Like London to a brick

“Malfoy? Blond wanker of epic proportions. Goes around with a sour look on his face all the time. Comes up to about yay high.” Ron held his hand a few inches above the top of Harry’s head. “Ring any bells?”Harry bent down to tighten the strap on his kneepad. “Still no idea what you’re on about.”“You…” An odd spluttering noise left Ron’s lips. “You’re taking the piss.”“Harry,” Ginny shouted from the changeroom door. “Why the fuck is Malfoy wearing your Quidditch jersey?”Ron made a face that very plainly said ‘there it is’.