"You're both arseholes," Draco said as he unlatched the door and threw it open.  He didn't know who he was expecting.  He hadn't ordered any takeaway, and he'd been so nasty to the last person who'd come by raising money for some do-gooder plan or other he suspected the doorman had taken to heading them off to avoid a repeat of the complaint the fellow had filed with the Ministry.  He knew he wasn't expecting Pansy Parkinson, resplendent as always in heels too high and lipstick too red, and he certainly wasn't expecting Hermione, who stood half behind Pansy with a scowl on her perfect face.