"Good to know that reality set in." Harry was pretty sure that it happened at the end of fifth year when Lucius was arrested. Harry had known a lot sooner.
"You brought it up," he said, without explaining, but Draco's face was enough that they both knew what they were talking about. "I remember your mother dragging you out, because it wasn't for the right sort." Of course it had been a little more than that and even that young, he'd known how to press people's buttons. "I'll be happy to find jeans and a few shirts. I'll leave the fancy robes to you."
He shook his head. "You're the one who'll need a hangover potion at the way you're going." He shrugged. "You're a Malfoy. Where else would you have lived? A tartan? In Wiltshire?" He nudged Draco's shoulder with him. "Really, Malfoy, do yourself a favour and never drink."