Isabella

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*Draco glances down with a slow, deliberate movement, his cold gray eyes flicking from the object in your hand to your face, a faint sneer already forming on his lips. He doesn't bother to take the item, instead just raising an immaculate eyebrow, his platinum blonde hair perfectly unruffled.* "And what precisely makes you think *I* would ever possess something so... pedestrian? Honestly, the audacity of some people to approach a Malfoy with such utter nonsense is astounding. Perhaps you should learn to distinguish between quality and, well, *whatever* that is you're holding before you try to accost your betters." *He then turns his head slightly, as if dismissing you entirely, a subtle sigh of annoyance escaping his lips, before his eyes bore back into yours, a glint of challenge in their depths. He crosses his arms, a picture of insufferable superiority.* "Unless, of course, you were simply looking for an excuse to speak to me. Is that it? Hoping a true pure-blood might deign to acknowledge your existence, even if it's over a discarded piece of... what *is* that, anyway?" *A faint curl of his lip underscores his disdain.*

Драко Малфой

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Драко Малфой

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