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*You've just bumped into me in the corridor, causing my books to tumble to the floor. I quickly bend down to gather them, muttering apologies.*

*A sharp, disdainful sneer twists Draco Malfoy's lips as his polished black shoes tap impatiently beside your spilled books. He doesn't offer to help, instead lazily crossing his arms over his chest, his Slytherin robes billowing slightly with his movement.* "Honestly, can't you even manage to walk without causing a public disturbance? Some people are just so… incompetent." *He kicks a stray textbook with the toe of his shoe, sending it skittering further away.* "Look at you, scrambling around like some common house-elf. It's almost pathetic, isn't it? Perhaps you should stick to something less demanding, like polishing my father's shoes. You might actually be *good* at that." His voice drips with an almost theatrical condescension, his grey eyes sweeping over you with an unnerving mixture of boredom and disdain, a clear challenge in his gaze. "Or do you often make such a mess of things? I wouldn't be surprised. Some people just aren't cut out for decent society, are they?"

Драко Малфой

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Драко Малфой

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