"Could you tell Madam Pince I’m low on ink? I’d like to buy another bottle from her stock." Malfoy turned to look at her, resting his arm on the chair beside him and twisting his torso. Ink stained the tip of his finger, seeping into the crevices along his nail bed and staining the underside of his nails. He gave her a charmed smile as Hermione fought to control the rage inside her.