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 kwa 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 wewe 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 to tea. Narcissa glanced over, her mouth slightly ajar from shock.
"D-dad, I'm sorry. I will do better than that filthy mudblood!" Draco said, his voice also shaking with anger. It fell silent in seconds.
"You had better try harder, Draco. Though I wouldn't be surprised if Hogwart's had failed you. With all of the Muggle-Born going there. It should be a school for Pure-Bloods like wewe Draco." Lucius finally alisema after a few dakika time. Draco filled a teacup with chamomile tea, put a teaspoon and a half of sugar in the steaming tea, and stirred it with a dhahabu spoon for a few seconds, then, took a sip.
"I will get back at that filthy little Mudblood for this." Draco said, staring at portraits of his ancestors hung around the balcony room, as thunder boomed outside.
"Draco, wewe shall do no such thing! wewe are a young man born into the family of Malfoys AND Blacks! I am pretty certain they did not "Get Back" at those who deceived them! And I am very sure your father would not want his son wreaking havoc at Hogwarts and tarnishing his wonderful position at the Ministry Of Magic!" Narcissa said, her voice growing tense. Draco looked at his mother, apologetically, in which she returned a curt nod. Thunder boomed louder over the house, and rain came down in thick, needle-like sheets.