"What's this?"
He was frowning. It was the frown he made when he wasn't impressed by something. The frown Harry had been so hoping to avoid.
"Well, it's that potion," Harry said, slowly. "The one the Apothecary has been advertising."
"The one that—" Draco faltered. "The one that will get rid of . . . it."
"Erm—yeah."
Draco nodded.
For what seemed like an age, he stared at the swirling green elixir, idly picking away at the glittering wrapping paper, fingering the cork before abandoning it once more. He was entranced—like a man under a spell.
Harry could barely stand it anymore.
"I mean, you don't have to use it right now if you—"
Suddenly, Draco hurled the vial at the wall, leaving the salve to splatter across the crown molding and strip the sapphire paint along with it. He then balled his fists and marched out of the room.
He uttered not a word.