Draco nodded. "Y-Y-Yes, milady," he said quietly. He was not presentable: dirty, with cuts and bruises covering his body, dressed in little more than old burlap sacks. His golden hair was matted, and longer than he normally kept it. "I am sorry about your parents, milady." He hesitantly looked up. "But why are you taking me at my word? I could be lying just to get sympathy. For all you know I may have merely been a beggar or a street urchin."