Draco was freaking the F out. He and Hermione had stoically made a plan for how to carry out their fake (yet, not so fake?) public engagement the night before. He’d spoken to Snape and discovered exactly NOTHING useful from the snide man regarding his mother’s condition. Afterwards, he’d stomped to Hermione’s room and had the excruciatingly brief conversation, without her even opening the door fully. They’d decided to get it over with the following morning at breakfast, and then they could go on with their lives, publicly engaged, and privately not speaking.