Draco raised his eyebrow at Ron's comment, though it remained in place at the barb. Inside, Draco seethed. Bringing up the events during the war was low, and not something he could deny occurred. Ron had spent time in the Malfoy dungeon. It hadn't been his choice, but that hardly mattered. He was still, would always be, held accountable for the choices of his father and aunt.
Before he could answer, however, Granger arrived. Secretly, he was grateful for the interruption, despite the additional headache she would provide. He had come here attempting to avoid awkwardness and irritability. Had he wanted to deal with a potential fight, he would have remained home where he could run into his father.
Turning briefly to note, if only with his eyes the intrusion, he rethought his strategy. He'd been the bully, but this was Potter's mate, which meant he might know more of the barbs that would truly wound.
"Yes, we're having it redecorated into a guest room for runaway Aurors who can't quite pass their exams. I'm certain you'll be first to volunteer the next time the Ministry decides to visit. You'll have to tell me how you like the changes. I'm certain you'll find the Manor quite different under my ownership."
His smile was feral, and his eyes cold as he stared at Ron. Then his eyes lit just slightly, a possible tell, but no one at the table would know that.
"Miss Granger, Miss Weasley," he said with overly stated formality. "Please, do not let me keep you from your obviously over-anxious date."
Please get him out of my sight. I do wish to enjoy my tea.
It was only then, with a very curt nod, that he turned, dismissing the lot of them as he shifted to face his tea and opened his newspaper with more flourish than was strictly necessary.