[ So, this somehow isn't Potter's fault after all. A part of him was really hoping it was. It would at least make throwing the blame easier for him. Having someone to direct his anger at usually helped when he was stressed, especially if that someone happened to be the boy he hates. Used to hate? He's still confused on his standing with Potter. The Dark Lord is gone, the Malfoys are disgraced, and Hogwarts doesn't have time to house some of it's old students after the war. Especially if they were Death Eaters. He doesn't have any reason to have it out for Potter anymore but he still doesn't exactly like him. Even the thought of them shaking hands and acting like they're pals makes his head spin. ]

Watch.

[ Draco looks over at the hippogriff before snatching away the fabric that was still in his beak. He drops the fabric onto the ground and pulls out his new wand, made of willow wood and the classic unicorn hair core. He casts a quick Wingardium Leviosa on the piece of fabric. Or, well, at least he would have liked to. Here he is, soaking wet and pointing a stick at a piece of fabric on the ground that isn't even moving. Great, now he probably looks like an idiot. His grip on his wand tightens slightly. ]

See? Nothing. Even a first year could run circles around me at this point.

[ He scoffs. ]

Merlin, I've really become a squib. Maybe I come like Filch and get a cat. [ He glances at the hippogriff who ruffles his wings, almost offended that Draco would dare choose anyone else as an accomplice. ] Oh, don't you start that.

[ He pauses, catching himself. ]

And I am now talking to a hippogriff. How the mighty have fallen.