Hermione was disappointed. Prince Draco was tall, muscled lithely rather than bulkily, his hair so blond that the sun flamed off it. His skin was pale enough that she would have bet money on it glowing in the dark. The ivory tone was in stark contrast to the unrelieved black of his fine-cut cloak, robes and boots. From here she couldn’t see his face, but the way he began to walk inside the castle suggested casual arrogance, a slinky high-handedness that would doubtless infuriate at some point down the line.