“Don’t have that,” Draco stated, knowing that he didn’t need to even check to see. He never kept milk around the house, his guests too infrequent for it to be worth it and never touching the stuff himself. Still, it filled him with a level of embarrassment, finding that he desperately wanted to be able to at least make Potter’s tea right, yet that was escaping him too.<br/>It felt embarrassing to be seen in such a way, feeling that it was making cracks in the veneer of the perfect image that his family had spent years to create. It wasn’t the first time he had been made to be uncomfortable with the weight of what people expected from his and his family and he had no doubt in his mind that it wouldn’t be the last either.<br/>Somehow, it was all worse by it being Potter though.<br/>With their shared history, it probably shouldn’t bother Draco<span style="font-style: italic">as</span>much, yet it made him sick to his stomach to have Potter see how he lived and get close to him like that. It was disgusting and Draco loathed it more than anything.