Ron, turning to look at him curiously, jogged the side of the cauldron, splashing some of the liquid in it onto the floor.

"And now I´m just annoyed," said Draco. "Weasley, keep your oafish hands away from that potion. That´s my soul you´re messing about with, you know. It´s my life essence, it´s my being, it´s--"

"A fabulous new cleaning product!" announced Ron, looking down. Where the potion had fallen, it had eaten a hole right through the rug, and partway into the stone beneath. "I´ve never seen anything like it. It´s completely toxic."

They all stared curiously.

"I refuse to consider this as a reflection on my personality," said Draco, looked at the charred rug.

-chapter 3, Draco Sinister

"Then you'll know that I'm not lying when I tell that you look completely ridiculous," said Ron. "Leather trousers, Malfoy?"

"They are flame-retardant dragon hide and extremely useful," said Draco, aiming his nose into the air. "Besides, I look really hot in them."

"Nausea..." said Ron, weakly. "Building...inside me. Must...be sick in bucket."

"You have no taste," said Draco, to him, coldly, and turned to Harry. "You think I look hot, don't you?"

"There is absolutely no way for me to answer that that would not get at least one person angry at me," said Harry diplomatically.

Draco smiled smugly. "You fear your love for me," he said. "I understand."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I think I might need that bucket when you're done with it, Ron."

-chapter 4, Draco Sinister