Draco received a letter the next day at breakfast. It was red.
A howler.
Draco dashed down the steps toward the Slytherin common rooms and tore it open before dropping it into a crack in the floor.
The voices were somewhat muffled, but he could still hear very clearly....
His father's voice....
"HOW DARE YOU AGREE TO THAT MUDBLOOD...."
Draco winced and turned his head away from the howler.
"YOU WILL SPEAK TO ME VIA FLOO POWDER AFTER YOUR LESSONS TODAY....PROFESSOR SNAPE HAS TOLD ME EVERYTHING SINCE CHRISTMAS...."
Wasting no more time, Draco dropped the howler into the flaming fire in the grate, and the voice subsided immediately. Draco buried his head in his hands. He skipped his lessons that day, dreading the time when he would have to talk to his father....
At last, at twelve in the night, when all the other Slytherins had gone to bed, Draco threw the green powder into the fire and stuck his head through the flames.
"Ah, Draco," Narcissa Malfoy said when she saw him. "Wait here, dear boy."
The argument lasted until two in the morning, and with much shouting, and a small bit sobbing, though Draco could not admit it.
Finally, Lucius became too tired to yell anymore, and retreated up the steps to his bedroom. Narcissa gave a frightened and angry glare towards Draco before leaving as well.
Draco pulled his head through the emerald-green flames and collapsed on a straight-backed chair by the slowly-dying fire.
"Mudbloods are scum?" he heard a tentative girl's voice say through the stone door. It swung open.
Hermione Granger walked through it.
"Draco! I didn't think you would be up so late! I mean....Yes, of course I thought you would, otherwise why would I even be here...."
Draco stood up and kissed her briefly. Hermione's eyes widened.
"I heard shouting," she croaked feebly. "Was it you?"
Draco closed his eyes. They were still very red from crying. He nodded. Hermione sat down opposite him.
"Why were you shouting? I mean, the whole school must have heard it, I was all the way up in the Gryffindor common rooms and I heard it, it was still very clear...."
Hermione's words weren't tangled as she spoke this time. She must have not been nervous, thought Draco. Hermione had never been this carefree around him before. And he had never enjoyed her company more.
"...so I thought, 'why would he be shouting and crying?' and then I thought-"
Draco raised a finger. Hermione stopped abruptly. "I don't feel like talking to you," he said. His voice was hoarse and painful from shouting so much. And it was hard for him to say this, because it was definitely not true.
But Hermione seemed to believe him. Looking hurt, she said back, "Fine. I was just trying to help you. But if you don't want that, I guess I will be leaving."
Without so much as a backwards glance, Hermione spun on her toe and left the room.