"You can will the recipe to me when you die, and I might even decide to keep my fangs away from your neck. I really am not fond of age spots either. Or liver spots. They do ruin the taste of things." He managed a smirk, folding his arms and looking cocky.
He waved away thoughts of Umbridge. "Oh if she gets on your nerves, I'm only too happy to relieve her of a few litres of blood. Although I doubt she'd taste good at all. Like rancid cheese that had gone off." He smirked.
"But don't worry, there's nobody out there watching now." He tried to reassure her, just so she could relax. "Perhaps you'll just have to come back to Upper Slaughter and get me next time." For he knew there would be a next time, and he let his tongue play at a drop of blood at the corner of his mouth.
Yes, he figured it would (unfortunately) pay to keep her alive for now. More was the pity.