- ᴀ ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟғᴏʏ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ
Draco lifts his head up, shooting a glance towards his left to the witch staring shamelessly at him, his pale eyes settling on her, grunting irritably,
"Do you ever mind your own business?"
Oonagh pondered silently, tuc...
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𝕿here was something about the Hufflepuff common room, that Oonagh obsessively adored.
In fact, it wasn't just something, it was everything, absolutely all of it. From the predominant theme of circular objects and furniture, to the excessive numbers of plants, flowers and vines decorating the walls, ceiling and floors. Tasselled carpeted floors, sunny warm glows and barrels for doors.
There's an earthy, woody scent, mixed with buttery sugar cookies and vanilla creeping in from the kitchens down the corridor. There's many yellow blankets, throws and cushions left around for the next person to snuggle up in. They lived in badger burrows, an underground network, homely and safe with no stairs, or shadowy spaces. Similar with the dorm rooms.
There was nothing not to love about the place.
Over time when the Wizarding War commenced again, the common room had grown quieter and emptier especially after they lost one of their own, Cedric Diggory, in the Triwizard Tournament after being brutally murdered my Lord Voldemort. Still, the Hufflepuffs remained adamant that they needed to be friendly, affable and kind during these times.
Though, in Oonagh's fair opinion, she keeps her distance from Zacharias Smith, believing him to be a knob. There was no other way to say it.
She flips off the obnoxious blonde boy underneath her sleeve when she passes him on her way out of the common room, lugging the ridiculously large bag of rosy apple sweets along with her towards Sprout's office.
The plump professor smiles when she enters the plant filled room, then widening her eyes when she spies the sack of sweets Oonagh's now dragging across the floor once giving up of hauling them over her shoulder. It was red, achey and sore, and she wonders how on earth Father Christmas does it with the world's share of gifts on Christmas Eve night.
"Oh, Helga, O'Connor. What on earth prompted you to buy this?!" Sprout exclaims incredulously, using her wand to elevate the sweets onto one of the armchairs on the outskirts of her office, Oonagh pressing her palm to her chest, taking a moment to gather herself.
Once she'd gotten over the blood, sweat and tears from the strenuous effort she'd just gone though, she straightened up, wearing a bashful smile when she admits,
"I had some making up to do to someone. But I think I may have bought one too many..."
"Just one too many?" She repeated with amusement and bafflement, quirking a brow, eyeing the sweets again before chuckling fondly at her student, "You're definitely something, Oonagh"
"I do try, Professor" She murmurs, patting down the defiant frizz of her wavy hair, resorting to raking her fingers through, only half listening when her head of house begins to ramble on, unaware of what she was really talking about until she calls,
