Draco didn't know Jackson very well, but he was watching closely for any reaction, and he might not have spotted the depths of that fear, but he certainly caught the glimpse. And his explanation of 'an accident' and that being the only side effect...plausible, but Draco's instincts were telling him there was more here than he could see on the surface.

He tipped his head back and stared at the dragon skeleton that still hung from the ceiling of the Dark Arts classroom, it had been there when he'd been eleven and it had made it through everything from Lockhart's pixies to the Second Wizarding War, it would probably be there forever at this point, no matter how many times it was damaged. But it didn't have any answers for him, and with a sigh he turned his attention back to Jackson.

"You know I haven't told anyone about what happened that day," he said. "I don't plan to. Do you know why? Because," he continued before Jackson could even draw breath to answer him, "you were terrified out of your wits, and I know it wasn't because of me. I'm not that frightening. You weren't in your right mind, and I should have sent you straight to Madam Pomfrey. I should do that now, but somehow I think the idea of missing classes and falling behind, even a little bit..." He trailed off, at last, to watch for this reaction.