DracoxY/n Imagines

The Muggle

A/N: thank you for 2k views!! (Again)
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((Y/N)'s POV)

I'm wandering far into the darkness. It's late, probably around two in the morning- the trees dance to the petite amount of wind, leaves smacking together as I pass them. The night sky is brightened up by countless stars, the moon a slim crescent sitting upon a fading cloud. It's silent other than the thumping of my heart and the hooting of owls perching upon hidden branches. I feel quite dizzy, unaware where I am, oblivious to where I'm going and unconscious from where I came from. I'm in a dull state of mind- I think I consumed a little too much beer.

I see a figure with a torch standing at the far end of the thicket of trees. At first, I fear it's someone there to harm me, so I almost stumble backwards before the drunk part of me gets the best of me and forces me to approach the figure. 

"Ghost!" I slur, reaching out for the person. When I get closer, I realise that the wand is not a wand, but something else. It's a long, wooden stick with the front tip glowing white. 

"Huh?!" I spit, my saliva flying onto the person's face. I catch the expression of disgust on his grimacing face before I pass out into his arms.

(Draco's POV)

I was on a casual walk under the moonlight when I had bumped into an obviously drunk woman slurring words at me. She called me a ghost, which had me wanting to Avada Kedavra her ass, but she was just a Muggle who over drank some beer. She saw my wand before she passed out- on instinct, I had caught her. If my reflexes weren't quick enough, I would've let her fall.

I considered leaving her behind, sitting against a tree, putting her in a place someone would've seen and helped her, but something in my dark, miserable heart gave me a hanker to help her. So I carried her back to my muggle cottage deep into the woods- it was a mile walk back, mind you.

So here I am, attending to a Muggle stranger I just met in the woods. She's sweating extensively, and the cloth I had reserved for her seems to be slowly making its way to the rubbish bin.

Grimacing, I place the folded cloth against her forehead, wiping it dry. Past the 'no magic in her blood', she's beautiful. I haven't caught a glance into her eyes but outside, in the moonlight, all I saw was the playful twinkle in her eyes- under the light, I can determine the colour of her hair. It's a stunning y/h/c, a colour my perfect girl type has.

When I start getting drowsy, I decide to sleep. I get a random thin blanket, throw it over the girl, and make my way to my room, praying that in the morning, I'll wake to find her gone.

The irritation of doing good gets to me. No wonder I never helped someone before.

It left some weird satisfaction that I can never explain.
 
((Y/N)'s POV)

I jerk upwards when bright light hits my face. My eyes sting from the sudden shine. I expect myself to be lying against a tree, or sitting upon the hard, grey concrete of the roads but I'm on a comfortable, fresh couch inside a cozy cottage. The main theme is a dark green and black, and I can't deny that the owner of this place has a sense of fashion. Everything is very.. aesthetically pleasing. 

Instantaneously, I gag. I throw the blanket off me, feel the cold, wooden floorboard beneath my bare feet as I sprint to find the bathroom. It takes all of my strength to keep the vomit in until I find the right room- and when I finally do, I reach for the sink and let it all out. I tuck my hair behind me, feeling another impulse to gag. When I think I'm finally done puking, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and pull the sink strainer, using the running water to wash the rims of the sink— I almost puke again at the sight of my vomit slipping down the drain.