"In the cellar. She's spent most of the day waiting for you in your room; I didn't think you'd mind, and the poor dear seemed rather insistent and I didn't like to argue, you know, after everything." But everything after in the cellar was lost to Draco as he bolted for the trapdoor, half running down the steps with his pulse racing and his brain cringing and shying away from what fit. It all fit. But Draco refused to put the pieces together himself; his mind was huddled in a corner of his skull with its eyes shut and hands clapped over its ears.