Barty laughed, not letting go of him. He wanted to hurt him. He felt that was part of the point he was making. "Your blood is pure. I'll say that much. Although that has never kept anyone from being a cowardly sycophant. Runs in the family just as the blood does."

Idly he wondered whether Draco even knew what sycophant meant. Maybe he'd have to ask his mommy later. There was an entertaining thought. "You've never had to fight for anything, have you?"

No wonder he was soft. Spoiled and useless, a coward filled with doubt. Easy enough to see. Barty let go of him at long last and then he smiled. "Do you think you are up for the fight, Malfoy?"