As he made his way down to the kitchen, he heard the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. Those bitches better not be destroying his house. "Oy! If you idiots keep breaking shit I'm going to start making you pay rent." Picking up his pace to ensure the wankers didn't break anything else, he slipped down the stairs and turned the corner into the kitchen, pausing at the threshold to take in the scene in front of him. Though a tentative peace had been achieved, he still found it necessary to gauge the mood in any room the three of them would be in before wading into the fray. The tosser who must have thrown the glass against the wall of cabinets hard enough to imbed shards into the wood was standing with his back to the island, head in his hands. The other tosser (because they were definitely both tossers) was standing on the other side of the island, staring blankly at a piece of folded paper lying on the cool marble. He took a full step into the room, pasting a sneer on his face and adopting his poshest tone. "Potter. Weasley. What the fuck?" Two heads snapped in his direction and Draco froze, a dull sense of dread filling his stomach as he noted Ron's bloodshot eyes and the devastated look on Harry's face. Neither spoke - just stood in their respective positions, staring at him, mouths agape.