Draco was bored. They’d gone to the Ministry because father was going to take him to the Department of Magical Games and Sports so he could have a behind-the-scenes peek at the plans for the upcoming World Cup. But Cornelius Fudge had spotted them on their way in and whisked father off for “just a quick word, my boy, just wait here–shan’t be long!” It had been twenty minutes already and the “word” wasn’t over yet. Draco wished that he’d brought along a book; even with the promised look at the arrangements for the World Cup still to come, he was bored.
While he’d seen lots of familiar faces as he sat in the lobby waiting for father to reappear, he hadn’t expected to see anyone his own age–anyone potentially interesting. The sight of a fellow student of Hogwarts was as welcome as it was unexpected; maybe they weren’t friends, but at least she was someone to talk to.
“What are you doing here, then?” Draco asked without preamble, spreading his hands in curiosity–a gesture sure to catch the young witch’s eye even if she somehow hadn’t already noticed him sitting there.