"My teeth are perfect," Draco insisted. "I like my sweets, but I also understand that there is a utensil called a toothbrush." He bit into a biscuit, noting the dark chocolate they used. The bitter combined with the sweet perfectly, perhaps a lot like his personality.
He was confused when Harry mentioned his aunt. He wasn't worried about the muggles around them as much. "In Slytherin, the word was that they were a bit nutters themselves. It was a little like being raised by ogres." He did know that they were exaggerated, made up out of the Slytherin need to hold themselves in high regard. "Did you like them?"
"How could anyone not insult Weasley? He's like a walking target." That was a little sharper than Draco meant it. He had moved past the 'Weasley is our King days'. He still didn't like the ginger. Molly, and now George, had moved up a few notches. He went back to the question. "Would you have helped me?"