It was a particularly nice day and carrying a bunch of book wasn't Malfoy's idea of fun. He trudged on through diagon alley on his way to work. Catching the edge of one of the cobblestones he stumbled over, his book strewn about the street right in front of that joke shop he hate.<br/>"Curse you Potter. You did all this. Why couldn't you have just died?" He mumbled out loud, but to himself.