"The little Slytherin heir," Goldstein said. He stabbed a fork into the roast chicken that a silent servant had deposited on his place. She did the same. "What’s Draco up to these days? Still raising hell? I’m in his year, you know, and the things he got up to – why, a mere mortal like myself would’ve seen my arse booted out like that – but of course, Daddy was there to make it all better!" He bit down with slightly more viciousness than the task warranted.