Draco nodded into his mother's shoulder, trying to ignore the dread he felt about leaving his mother. Her hair smelled of honey and vanilla. Like home. His father had never hugged him, so he had no clue what he smelled like. He didn't particularly care to know any way. He imagined his father smelling like metal and alcohol. Disconnected. Overbearing and off putting. Entirely unappealing. Bitter.