"Don't be so childish, Draco," was the swift rebuke. "You chose to leave your home, you chose to try and earn a wage, but you are severely underestimating me if you think I believe for one moment that you would serious contemplate chosing not to be a Malfoy." Narcissa wasn't going to be intimidated by temper tantrums, not from her own son. Even if he rarely dared glare at her like that.
"There is plenty for you to do, Draco. Stop acting as though I've grounded you in your room. It's better for me to handle this problem, and then you can hold all the parties and balls and festivities you like. But if you actually want to pick this family's name out of the mud, you'll be in the Ministry. You'll be finding out where the power is, not who has the best ballroom."
Lucius had always understood this, and Narcissa was certain her son couldn't be completely blind to it. But he was having to take his first steps into the world after terrible events, and without his father's guiding hand. Narcissa was more than willing to give her son every benefit of the doubt, and wish that Lucius was there to advise him and help him. It shouldn't have been this hard for Draco - they'd always wanted to make it easy.