Remus took his hand before the words had actually processed in Draco’s mind. He spent so little time, if any at all, thinking about his father. One reason was simple. Out of sight, out of mind. Lucius Malfoy was no longer a presence in his life, he wasn’t around. But mainly Draco tried not to think of his father because it churned something rotten in his stomach. Any happy memories they had shared in his early childhood had been negated by acts of violence, of terror, of punishment. Not only that, but Draco knew that even though his Lycanthropy was a direct result of his father’s actions, the man would regard him with distain, because he was now a half-breed, no longer pure.