"Good." Draco frowned, wondering how he'd drunk so much champagne. It had only been a glass, hadn't it? Oh, but wait--Pansy had refilled his glass! Was she trying to get him drunk, knowing that whenever he had champagne in him, he was easily manipulated?
"And you wouldn't be causing me trouble. The damn Gryffindors do plenty of that," he muttered tiredly, toying with his glass lazily. "But...Italy was supposed...supposed to be ours," murmured Draco stubbornly, giving Pansy a glare in the process. Never mind the fact that Italy clearly wasn't Paris.