"Dearest Father," the note had begun, in what Lucius identified as Draco's most formal handwriting, used only when he had something to hide.
"Some of my classmates have been playing tricks on me. I can't tell whether they are just being friendly or whether I should tell a professor to put a stop to it. I don't want to be a tattle-tale but some of the tricks are pretty nasty. What do I do?"
A younger voice-something serious enough to hide from the Wizengamot.
Students at Hogwarts plotting something? It could be dangerous or it could be harmless. If a professor was involved, though, and likely the defense professor judging from Draco's earlier letters... It could be a credible threat to his Lord. The Potters were descendants of the Peverells, the secrets of death might not be beyond their grasp.
Still, to fuss over nothing would bring him torture.
For the Dark Lord to fall... it might not be too bad for house Malfoy. A subtlety Draco might soon be old enough to appreciate.
"Dearest Son,
It is easier to underestimate one's peers than to get along with them.
Try talking to them, and go to the professor if that doesn't work out. Also, I hear you are spending more time with the Carrow twins. I hope you enjoy yourself, but I don't want my little boy growing up too fast and spending all his time with girls.
Best,
Lucius"
If anyone thought it odd the next day when Draco Malfoy sat next to Tracey Davis and studied with Zacharias Smith, they knew better than to mention it.