"Tonight, or in a general sense for the time we have left to live?" Draco asked, and it was bitter but - odd for him - self-depreciating. He didn't like not being good at things, particularly spells. Wand work was his forte, and why not, he was bred to it?
"Does it have to be a happy memory?" And he didn't like being so transparent about the particular problem he was having, but there it was.