Draco leaned back into the tree. Normally, he detested dirt, but the fresh air reminded him he was alive and okay. He spent years cooped up in his small country side cottage back home because he felt exposed when outdoors. He hadn't admitted it, but he was starting to feel the same way here. He wasn't the same person anymore and maybe he needed to admit that to himself.
Draco quirked an eyebrow at Salazar's remark, but didn't ask if he referred to age eleven or age eighteen. Either answer would hurt and Draco learned not to dig for information he was better off not knowing. His healer's voice rang in his head. Focus and breathe. You can't control anyone's opinion of you. Right. He could do that here just as well as in his other world. Never mind that anyone in this little out of the way magical town connected somehow and there was no escape. Breathe. Right.
He was glad for the distraction of Godric. The history was laid out, of course, but books were known to stretch, even the so-called texts, so Draco tried to refrain from asking too many questions on that front. However, the fact Godric, in the flesh, said some things gave him pause. He didn't want Salazar to suffer. "I hope the good makes the bad worth it." He was careful not to phrase it as a question in case he came off as prodding. He knew good and bad were part of life, but some people lived through far more negative than positive. "I know quite a bit, yes." His life was good. He got a taste of that at home. But did it matter when he was trapped here? When they all were? "We've both been here nearly a year. Did you realise?"