"Maybe. Maybe they did drive him mad. Maybe it's not his fault, and he's not responsible for what he's done. Maybe they did make him into this – this bastard that I would kill given half a chance. But there comes a point, mother, when you cut your losses. Father is gone. We will never be a happy fucking family again. Even if he gets better as you so prettily put it, like he's ill instead of a raving, sadistic madman." Draco's breath came jaggedly as he spat the words out, grey eyes icy on his mother's face, and she stared at him like she didn't know him. Hermione bit her tongue, stomach twisted up and sick. She wished she'd burnt the damned letters.