"My, my. Worried for me; lovesick over Weasel and Brown; and mooning over McClaggen. You're certainly busy." Her brows creased in confusion. She hadn't known that he was paying such close attention to her, hadn't known that he had continued to care. She hadn't caught him even glancing her way once in since he had ended things in that dark classroom. Not that he was correct, of course. She wasn't lovesick over Ron. That ship had sailed years ago. She was, and it was rather hard for her to admit, even to herself, jealous. As vapid as Lavender was, at least Ronald had someone to share his nights with. And she most certainly wasn't "mooning" over Cormac, the pig. He had a very specific use, and it seems it was about to pay off. A jealous Draco was something she could work with. She made an effort to smooth her features, to keep herself from either laughing or bursting into tears at how ridiculous it all was.