They had fallen into something of a routine of Percy bringing up tea for Draco around teatime every day. Percy didn't really mind much. He made tea for himself every day at that time, and so it wasn't any effort to make extra, and pour it into another cup. And he enjoyed the company. Well, parts of it at least, when Draco wasn't going out of his way to be unpleasant.
He had just brewed a pot of tea and was putting together a tray. The pot, of course, with two mugs, and a small bowl of sugar and one of milk. He found some cinnamon biscuits and added them to the tray as well, before he picked it up and left the kitchen.
He carefully walked through the Sanctuary, climbing up the stairs and then walking down the hall to Draco's room. His hands were full, but he had encountered that problem several times before, and angled himself so that he could bump his elbow against the door in something of a knock, and then waited.