Draco had walked into the balcony room, to sit himself in a comfy, navy armchair, feeling himself sink into its cotton and feather mix, warming himself oleh the magical fire, which glowed brightly, filling the room with flickering light. Narcissa sat on the couch, comfortable, and relaxed, sipping on a bit of warm ButterBeer, and eating kippers and spiced rice.
"Draco, I expect better of you. How could anda have scored lower than a Muggle-Born, Hermione Granger of Gryffindor at that." Lucius said, his voice shaky and dangerous. Draco froze, as he was reaching for a fine-china teacup, helping himself...
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