Constantine received the notice that his father was coming to visit earlier that morning and had been preening ever since. He expected nothing less than the praise he so fully believed he deserved and made it clear to those around him that, as he had recently come to coin, good behaviour is rewarded. Even though the scowl on the faces of many seemed quite apparent, there were still others who completely believed and held Constantine to a high esteem for taking necessary action against those who would attempt to defy the Dark Lord.
Constantine's own personal reasons for using such Dark Magic on Draco were still tucked tightly away from those who might wish to pry further. Constantine understood that using an Unforgivable for any other reason that the Dark Lord's work would have been grounds for expulsion, if not worse, even given who Constantine was, however, under the guise and safety of Ministry and his parents, Constantine was quite safe. A month of detention was nothing compared to the thrill he felt upon casting such a dark curse.
The reverberation of the Cruciatus Curse into Constantine's own wrist left its mark though, and despite Madam Pomfrey's well executed remedy, he still felt an ache deep within the bones of his hand and wrist. Constantine's consolation - that Draco received the full brunt of the curse and was, still in the hospital wing.
The cocky heir made his way from the Slytherin Common Room and towards the Great Hall where he was to meet his father. For such an occasion, Constantine made sure to don his best Slytherin robes and he refilled his hip flask with the finest whiskey. His stature was strong, confident and cocky as his eyes scanned the area and fixed upon his father's wave. He strutted towards his father and a wide grin stretched out along his face. "Hullo, Father. I'm so glad you were able to visit." He chimed, his voice as innocent as it was when the young man was five.