Longbotttom had just won ten points for Gryffindor. They had won. The House Cup. Every House except Slytherin cheered. Draco could see Potter elbow Weasley and point in his direction, no doubt gloating with that bloody pretentious look on his face. He felt the people around him begin to sulk and shift uncomfortably in their seats. They hated losing just as much as he did.
He'd have to up Potter next year. He'd get on the Quidditch team and equip everyone on it with the latest broom so that he didn't have to suffer the embarrassment of someone flying on an ancient Cleansweep One. He would not lose again to Potter , not with Luna in Slytherin next year. The two of them would rule the school.