"I don’t know, Hermione. But aren’t you supposed to talk about those sorts of things? Isn’t sharing your feelings supposed to help, instead of keeping them all bottled up inside? Facilitate the fucking healing process or some shit like that?" He sounded sarcastic, and he didn’t mean to, but it just came out that way. Arrogant and nasty. Shit, he hated talking about this sort of thing. Malfoys’ didn’t do feelings – at least not aloud and in the presence of others. And a lifelong habit was hard to break. Draco felt like a coiled spring, the blissful relaxation he had been luxuriating in just moments ago gone without a trace.