Atelophobia - A fear of Imperfection
Draco had always taken pride in his appearance. He was a Malfoy and to look anything less than perfect was unacceptable. "You are a Malfoy and a pureblood. Appearance is everything," his father would tell him.
New robes, the latest broom, flawless appearance, he had it all. It was important to him.
He spent two hours in the bathroom every morning, longer than anyone else. He would shower, then dry and perfect his hair, styling it in his trademark fashion. He would then check that his face was clear of that horrible acne. All it took was one spot to ruin his flawless appearance.
He pitied his peers - the Mud-Bloods and blood traitors who were inferior to him. He pitied the fact that they would never live up to his standards, that they would never be as perfect as he was. They were destined to be the scruffy lower-class men and women that they were.
His mind wandered to Potter who had scruffy black hair and that ugly mark on his forehead. He might forgive him if he didn't associate himself with the know-it-all frizzy haired Mud-Blood and the freckle-faced orange weasel. He made a vow to never lower himself to that, to never be as unkempt as they were.
His housemates called it vanity. He called it necessary.