Draco's lips were a thin, tight line for a moment as he considered that. Could she help? He was almost certain there was no help for it, even from her, and talking most certainly wouldn't change anything.
When he opened his mouth, though, he heard himself begin anyway. "Last year, Potter and I had a duel, almost had a duel, in one of the toilets. The girl's lav that's haunted by that whinging ghost with the pigtails?"