I'm a Struggle Bus.
And with that, Harry was gone. Draco took a moment to finish his tea and wash the two mugs before he disapparated out of the kitchen. A startled shriek announced his apparition into Hermione’s living room, followed by a loud crash as Weasley fell off the couch. The overhead light flickered on and Hermione stumbled out of the bedroom.
“What in the name of Merlin is going on?” she snapped, pulling on her dressing robe.
“I’m angry,” Draco stated plainly and yanked Weasley to his feet. “And you’re well aware of what happens when I’m angry, aren’t you Weasley?”
“Bugger off, you git.” Weasley tried to yank his nightshirt from Draco’s grip.
“Pass this onto your sister, will you?” Draco asked before punching him dead on in the face.
“DRACO!”
With a wave of his hand, he blocked Hermione’s binding hex and turned to her. “Have you asked your fiancé why he’s an arse or did you just force them to get along?”
“Ron, don’t,” Hermione ordered, stopping the counterattack, and waved her wand, snapping Weasley’s nose back into place. He swore, but she ignored it. “Draco, kitchen. Ron, bedroom.”
Draco crossed his arms and didn’t move.