"Nothing about me is princess like." His brow arched for effect, but he wasn't sure if Harry was right or not. Maybe he was a bit of a Princess when he was younger. He had lost that along the way, at least for the most part.
Quality Quidditch was the best place to buy any brooms. Draco was eying gloves when Harry spoke. His head turned sharply. What was he doing? "I'll take the same one," he said, trying to determine what the man was playing at. "Throw in a new set of gloves." His face changed into a smirk as he stepped closer. The attendant had left for the back to get the brooms. "We can't have my hands getting too rough."
He stepped back to view the brooms when the attendant returned. "Who ever thought he would be buying me something? It's a special day." He grinned at the attendant, with his wicked smirk. He was playing it up a little bit, but it still left him scratching his head. Getting something nice for any reason from someone other than his mother or Pansy, often left him wondering what was behind it.