"I’ve been writing to him," she said reluctantly, as if she expected him to explode; he imagined that Lucius had. Lucius hadn’t been the same since his stint in Azkaban. Draco had complicated feelings about Lucius, but he had to admit he had always been a loving husband to his mother, doting on her at every opportunity and always quick to capitulate in her favour. The outbursts of furious shouting were relatively new. He would probably have benefitted from a mind healer, but Draco doubted there were any in Britain that would take him as a patient. Not that he blamed them.