The day four weeks ago still stays on repeat in my head. I have sat in his room since surrounded by all his things. In the evenings I sit in the sitting room and replay our conversations by the fire. I have cried at the pain I feel all this time. My boy is gone, and I have no one to blame for him leaving but myself. I have not spoken to anyone since that day. I live in the memories of my son.

That day when Draco pushed me away after he found out the truth I had remained seated in my pride. I was hurt that he would speak to me, the woman who birthed him, in such a way. Normally, when he is hurt he runs to his tree to have some time to himself. I thought that he would go there to think and to get over what he had heard. As his ma I should have known that this time would be different. I had dismissed my lady maid as soon as Draco left the room so I could have time to think to myself.

For a few moments I felt guilty at what I had done. That feeling was however fleeting and I soon ro