He took a minute to center himself. He poured the long overdue glass of apple juice and slammed it back like it was something much stronger, lamenting briefly that it wasn't. Too damn bad he'd reached his one fucking drink limit at Nott's house (and double too damn bad that there wasn't any liquor in his house), as he sure could use a drink right about now. He shook off the tempting thoughts, and the even more tempting voice in his head that suggested he find a bed somewhere very far away from Astoria's room and leave Nott and Zabini to their own shitty company and made his way to the sitting room. Before stepping in, he stopped off in the nearest toilet to splash some water on his face. Staring at himself in the mirror, Draco watched his face as he brought his walls up. Not all the way, no. He wanted to be present for this conversation. He simply did not want to deal with the emotions that would surely result from it.