"I'll bet you two hundred Galleons that I beat you by ten points," she said finally. Two hundred Galleons was little more the a few months of pocket money for her, as her family was just as old and wealthy as Draco's. Still, she would be without sweets and new shoes for a few months…
"No, no, that won't do. Gold means nothing to me, I have all I need," Draco sighed. When will people realize that money is no object to a Malfoy, he wondered. "I want something more substantial... something I'd get more joy out of."
"Well, what, then?"
"Indentured servitude?" he asked hopefully.
"Absolutely not!" Daphne retorted, her voice sounding utterly appalled.
"Oh, well for Merlin's sake, what could we possibly bet over?" Draco burst out exasperatedly. "As if either of us needs anything…"
"Other than amusement…" Daphne muttered. "Oh! I've got it! I'm bloody brilliant, I swear it."
"Out with it, then," Draco said, prodding her a bit with his finger.
"If I win, then you'll have to declare me the purest of blood, with the oldest, wealthiest family and the best lineage." She paused for effect, then continued casually, "Also, you'll have to befriend Potty, the Weasel and the Mudblood know-it-all." Daphne smiled cleverly at her idea.
"Same terms for you, then? If I win you have to declare me the all-'round best Slytherin and all that, and you have to befriend the dream team?" Draco asked.
"Its only fair," Daphne answered. As she was sure she'd win, she didn't even bat an eye.
"Right then. Shall we make a pact?" Draco inquired in a tone that suggested he certainly wouldn't agree otherwise.
"Let's," Daphne said, holding her hand out for his. They shook, both taking out their wands in the opposite hands.
"Adsensus Compactum!" they said in unison, and the pact was complete.
What have I gotten myself into? Draco thought.