Draco let his eyes close, breathing in slowly, letting each breath slip out as he shuddered. Even behind his eyeslids, he could still see the bag, could imagine them lifting her body into it. He had to go back to Paris tonight. He had to confirm this, and he had to somehow find the words to tell his daughter that she had no mother. He flinched at the thought, fingers tightening again as he started to shake.
Control. He needed control, needed to put this into a place in his mind and lock it away. It was hardly the first time he had wrapped up his emotions and slipped them into the dark corners of his mind, locked where no one could touch them. But he had learned during his sixth year how quickly those corners overflowed, despite his best efforts. And he could feel control slipping.
Eyes flickered open, and he looked across the way. All attention was on the site, and new arrivals who moved quietly through the crowds. His voice, when he spoke, was calm, and in the back of his mind Draco was pleased that he had done that much, hidden himself properly behind the walls.