Draco really didn't give two shits about Weasley. Any Weasley. Sp he let Potter paint her however he wanted and let the subject die.
"Slytherins are the life of the party," he said, only slightly sarcastic. There was still a large part of him that wanted a life like that. Being the center of attention, pampered, enjoying all the finer things in life. But that ship had sailed, at least for now. He wasn't welcome at those parties, and he didn't care. At least that's what he told himself.
"The Prophets got it right. I'm really living the high life. Off across the globe, sowing my wild oats and living the life of the rich and beautiful." The sarcasm fairly oozed out of his mouth. "I'm also building a terrorist organization, did you hear about that one? Or a cult, depending on what day it is. Or I've got all the dementors locked in the basement just waiting for the right time to release them. Or was it vampires. Or both. I think it's both. Oh, and I've brainwashed you, of course. But that one is old news. I've been brainwashing you for years at this point."