"He's – he's ordered me to bring you to dinner tonight," he says with his face forced into careful blankness, and slides a piece of parchment over the desk to her, his fingers shaking a little. Hermione is suddenly shaking too now, breaking out into a sweat, frozen and heavy with sick terror. She plucks up the parchment numbly, unfolding it as he goes on. "Not a revel – thank Merlin for small mercies. It's a formal dinner to show off to some Dark Wizards from the Americas, whom the Dark Lord is...wooing. He'll acquire either their loyalty, or their heads," Draco finishes, hissing through his teeth with discomfort as he shifts in his seat, meeting Hermione's horrified gaze briefly, before she lowers it to scan the creased parchment.