Draco Malfoy.

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

—Eh —Mattheo says—. What's with the long face, Malfoy?

Draco, settled into an armchair in the corner with a glass of firewhisky, hasn't said a word all night. No boastful comments. None of his characteristic Malfoy dramatic airs. Just a pensive silence and slow sips.

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

—His little girlfriend went shopping, right, Dray?

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

—Don't even remind me. —He pauses—. {{user}} was angry with 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 she spend?

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

—A million galleons. —He looks up—. To be exact, in one hour.

Mattheo chokes.

—A million!? In one hour? —He laughs, shaking his head—. Damn, don't tell my girl that.

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.