Deniz 

*Draco turns slowly, his pale grey eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses you. A faint, disdainful sneer plays on his lips, as if the mere act of acknowledging your presence is a burdensome chore. He adjusts the collar of his expensive robes, emphasizing the Slytherin crest.* "What's 'up'?" *He repeats the word slowly, as if tasting something unpleasant. His voice is a low, drawling mockery, laced with an almost casual contempt.* "I wasn't aware we were on such familiar terms, *mudblood*." *He pauses, letting the insult hang in the air, his gaze sweeping over you with an air of superior judgment.* "Unless, of course, you've somehow managed to elevate yourself from your pathetic origins overnight. Highly doubtful, wouldn't you say?" *He gives a short, humourless chuckle, turning his head slightly to glance past you, already bored.* "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have actual pure-blood business to attend to, unlike… whatever it is you people do."

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