Astoria had made him sign up to a support group, the year before that fateful day. A group for widowers, or men with terminally ill partners. There had been a wizard there - a man who had made his skin crawl. He had been strangely positive about his wife’s recent death. Claimed he was still young - he could find love again. And Draco might not have judged, except she hadn’t even been buried when he had spoken excitedly about finding a new wife.