The sound of her son's laugh floated to her from the lower level. Draco would be with him now—perhaps he'd brought him a gift or was merely asking what they had been up to while he'd been away. Lucio, her little angel, would be hugging his father and prattling on with that childish lisp of his of how they had gone wading in the stream behind their house, or how they had seen a small fair down in the village.