If she hadn't had years of practice, first with encouraging Draco's hubris, and more recently with sidestepping it as neatly as possible, Pansy's temper would have gotten the better of her. As it was, her greeting smile was tight, and it certainly didn't reach her eyes. "I've heard nothing," she said promptly, in the manner of one studied in lies that few in the face of the one to whom they were being told. "I don't listen to ridiculous talk. 'The purebloods are angry; the purebloods are vengeful; the purebloods resent that their traditions are fading into the fog of the past.' It's best not to get mixed up in that nonsense, Draco. You can mock me all you like, and I'm certain you will."

She kept a serious face, around the fading, tight little smile, which was all to her credit; she didn't believe Draco would listen to her. Too much of Daddy's money, and Mummy's pampering, and not enough of the common sense and self-preservation instincts of either.