The rest of Draco's weekend was bliss, he didn't even get annoyed when his three least favourite Griffyndors took up his walking space in the corridor on his way to lunch on Sunday, the miserable Potter and Granger were in only pleased him more, inside he felt a strong sense of … accomplishment. 'It is so good being evil' he thought to himself 'Huh, ironic.'
Harry and Hermione however were finding it hard to look each other in the eyes and were trying hard to be normal. Unfortunately for them Ron saw through their act and sensed there were some things they hadn't resolved and decided to bring it up on Sunday afternoon, once again niether of them felt like going out despite the beautiful weather, both sat sulking at different ends if the common room.
"You guys have to sort this out!" Ron demanded "It's getting ridiculous!"
"How is it ridiculous?" Harry asked
"You have both sat in the common room all weekend you only came to meals when I dragged you there, and you've barely spoken to anyone let alone each other."
"We talked to you!" said Harry in his defence
"Harry, I could count on my fingers how many full sentences you have said to me and that's both of you put together!" he finished looking at Hermoine
"There's nothing to say." she said. Ron turned to her raised his eyebrows and gave her an 'Oh, is that so' kind of look, Hermione looked away, folded her arms over her chest and sunk into her arm chair. With that Ron left the common room, leaving Harry and Hermione to hopefully talk away their problems.
The next morning at breakfast Draco Malfoy received a letter. The envelope and the owl alike were completely black, all that is except the owls eye which were a piercing deep crimson. Draco carefully pulled out and unfolded the grey paper inside and recognized his own fathers perfect hand writing. A wave of uneasiness and maybe even a hint of fear came over him. It was very unusual for his father to send him mail and when he did … well.