Harry didn´t change expression. "We signed up for this practice last week," he said flatly. "Go and check the book."

"Yes, I saw that," said Draco, lazily twirling his broomstick. If he´d had a moustache, Hermione was sure he would have twirled that too. "When Charlie handed me the book. See, Madam Hooch never would have trusted me to write in it myself, but your Weasley friend, well he just hasn´t been around that long, he doesn´t know. He didn´t even notice when I wrote right over your name. You know, you´ve got a very girly signature, Potter. You should work on that."

"You dishonest creep," said Elizabeth, her two pigtails trembling with rage.

"I´m a Slytherin," said Draco, giving her a smile that would have melted solid steel, although it didn´t have much effect on Elizabeth. "Itś in the job description."

"This trick won´t work more than once, Malfoy," said Harry, his green eyes narrowed. "Charlie won´t trust you again."

"It only needs to work once." Draco shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder about you, Potter. Where were you when they were handing out brains?"

"I don´t know," said Harry, his voice dripping acid. "I´m afraid I accidentally got in line for 'shred of moral decencyínstead."

"It must have been quite a long line," said Draco. "Apparently you were also too late for 'good looks´, 'fashion sense´, and 'witty repartee.´"

Ron started forward. Harry hauled him back by the collar of his robes. "I think you´ve been spending too much time in that dungeon, Malfoy," Ron spat, struggling to get free of Harryś grip. "The lack of natural light must have rotted your brain."

"Oh, right, because you lot live in a tower," said Draco, his voice filled with heavy sarcasm. "A great, big, pointy, thrusting tower. Just the right place for little boys who maybe feel a little….inadequate?