He hadn't expected Eponine to find Howard at the same time he did, but it was brilliant luck on his part. He hadn't in a million years expected to be able to see the girl try and take him down. A bark of a laugh escaped from him, and Draco stumbled back a step or two, releasing Howard's wrist; there's nothing more he thinks he can do that could be helpful to the matter. He'd much rather just stand back and watch Eponine tear into him. Her friend.

It was hilarious, really. It served them both right. Her for spitting at him twice, for thinking something of him when she had no idea who he was; and him for thinking he was better than Draco. He wasn't, and he never had a chance of that.

He let Howard go for the knife that time, hoping that maybe they'd tear each other apart. Wouldn't that be something? Then Draco wouldn't have to deal with either of them, and he could go back to meandering about this horrid place by himself. With Katurian, more likely. With Atticus, maybe. He hadn't been so bad.

"How's that for you, Howard? Looks like your precious Eponine decided to show up for you after all," Draco sneered, stepping back against the wall, back into the deeper shadows.