There were four brands of champagne circulating the event. Two were not chilled, and the third tasted like urine. Draco made a point of getting the fourth kind for Parvati-- the one that was ice cold, but sweet and crisp. Getting the server to drop in a bit of white peach puree, and forcing him to use one of the good crystal flutes, he got a tumbler of something amber colored for himself before walking back to the young woman.
"Here you go," he said efficiently. Despite securing the Gryffindor princess a special drink, he delivered it with an indifferent casualness. It was akin to a man proposing to a woman with the most beautiful and outrageous diamond in the world by dumping it on her lap.