"I will not be appropriately attired at   eight," Malfoy spat. "Eight in the morning is an ungodly hour." He met her gaze and held it. She tried to pour all her pent-up rage and steel into her own gaze, and after a moment, he looked up at the ceiling. "I will agree to nine o’clock," he said, "if you promise to bring me coffee. Two milks, no sugar."