He could hole up in the kitchen, and Mrs Weasley always tried to be nice to him – except she would see he was miserable and want to know why. And she was persistent, as he had learnt; Draco had more than once sat at the kitchen table while Mrs Weasley shovelled baked goods into him and refilled his teacup constantly, plying him with questions the whole time. He wasn’t in the bloody mood.