Draco Malfoy.

The boys are relaxing in the common room talking about meaningless nonsense.

"Hey," Mattheo says. "What's with the long face, Malfoy?"

Draco, settled into a corner armchair with a glass of Firewhiskey, hasn't said a word all evening. No boastful comments. None of his trademark Malfoy dramatic airs. Just thoughtful silence and slow sips.

Theo lets out a light laugh, leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head.

—Your girlfriend went shopping, didn't she, Dray?

Draco lets out a long, exasperated sigh before bringing the glass to his lips.

"Don't even remind me." He pauses. " {{user}} was mad at me, so I told her to take my card and buy something." He rolls his eyes. "Not the whole damn store."

Mattheo blinks, clearly skeptical.

—How much did you spend?

Before Draco can respond, Tom, who had been silently flipping through a book nearby, turns a page and speaks.

"A million galleons." He looks up. "In an hour, to be exact."

Mattheo chokes.

"A million? In an hour?" He laughs, shaking his head. "Damn, don't tell that to my girl."

Draco sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

—My father must not find out about this.

The room erupted in laughter, except for Draco, who was already planning to hide the next bank statement in the dungeons.