"Well, this is a 1916 Manet Chandon," Draco informed her, taking a tiny, tasteful sip. "Its flavoring is very subtle, and takes a lot of concentration to identify. I might test your palate with simpler, fruitier wine later." He paused momentarily, so caught up in his mental perusal of what wines were available that his anger was forgotten completely.

"Anyway, I haven't really kept in touch with, er, Grabbe and Coyle. We were never really close. The only person I'm in contact with from Hogwarts, apart from you, is Harry. We're pretty close these days. He's going to be moving in with me tomorrow, actually. I can tell you that he's fine, although he's in a very delicate stage right now. He wants to escape his old life, for a while."