Draco opened his mouth to make a scathing retort. Hardly. If I ever want a catch a few dozen spiders in my hair I'll let you know.
Then he closed it again. "No," he said, after a moment's hesitation. He looked around at the shelves and shelves and piles and piles of wooden boxes, and his expression changed to one of miserable longing. "No, I suppose not." Where even was his wand? In his trunk somewhere, probably. Anyway it had never worked for him as well ever since Potter had disarmed him, all that time ago. Under normal circumstances he might have been looking for a new one by now.
He turned to leave, but he could feel her gaze on him, making the hair on the back of his neck prickle. Looking back, he reflected that while she might be the weirdest person he'd ever met, she was at least marginally more bearable than some of the others. She was at least polite. And he'd met some people he'd much, much less prefer to be around. "Thank you," he choked out, barely able to make his tongue form the words. "That is... for... you know."