"The prisoners escaped as well." Narcissa mentioned, her voice a perfect soupçon of disgust and resignation. Draco didn't understand why the display was necessary, as they were still very much alone in his private chambers. However, he knew (had learned from experience) that appearances in and around the Manor, were everything. He adopted his own sneer, heading for the bedroom door as he did so, "I don't imagine they'll be free for long. Not with the might of the Dark Lord set on destroying them all." The words tasting acid, burned like fire, but were necessary, particularly as Draco opened his door, revealing Scabior's pocked face just on the other side. The man was smiling, something Draco couldn't fathom as he was punished almost as harshly as he and Narcissa had been. Taking a deep breath, ensuring his Occlumency walls were once again firmly in place, Draco stepped into the halls of the Manor, as ready as he could be to continue pretending for as long as he needed to. Anything to stay alive, to see the end of this war, to see her, happy and healthy, again.