- 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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✧✧✧✧✧
𝕺onagh hugs her sweater tighter to her chest, recovering from the bitter cold.
Outside of the window, flurries of snow swirled in gusts of wind, beautifully wintry but awfully cold. Even inside of the empty train compartment she had claimed for herself it wasn't the warmest. The train had yet to roll from Hogsmeade station, perhaps then it will start heating up with the engine.
For now, she blows air into her hands, snuggling herself up into the corner, dreaming of the little blue door she'll be in front of in a matter of hours. Back home, back to where half of her heart is, back to her beloved Irish roots. Her eyes close, lips upturning, just imagining — imagining she's already there, where the land is green for miles and luck grows underneath your feet.
Helga, she couldn't wait.
The steam train hooted, and finally began chugging, departing from Hagrid and Fang at the platform, the half-giant giving a friendly wave to those visible in the windows.
Many students were happy to be going home, especially if their families weren't magical, they needed more protection in these dark and difficult times, holding their loved ones close, who knows when it might be the last time they do so. There was no textbook answer, no story book ending that anyone could already predict, there was only hope to be held that you awake when the sun does.
The Hufflepuff loosened herself up, now feeling a little warmer with the heat underneath the velvety, forest green seats. A soft sigh escapes her, burrowing her hand into her pocket, jiggling some Wizarding coins for when the trolley lady arrives. She'd missed breakfast this morning, finishing up her last minute packing and bidding her goodbyes and Christmas wishes to Luna, Neville and her Hufflepuff friends.
She'd have liked to have atleast seen Draco before leaving, it soon became apparent after searching, the Slytherin boy didn't want to be found. Oonagh knew not to dwell on it, his odd disappearances weren't uncommon and after the unexpected events of previous night she wasn't greatly surprised he was distanced from the world.
Snape had antagonised him immensely. Their broken, disgruntled whispers had played through Oonagh's mind since, trying to make sense of their secrets. He'd mentioned a 'her', tipping Draco over the edge he was slipping from. And well Oonagh had thought maybe 'her' —
The sharp noise of the compartment door being opened, crashing against the frame snatched her from her thoughts, her heart giving a forceful thump. Nobody was there. No giggling first years in the corridors hiding after playing a trick on her. Just empty space. And the compartment door closed once more.
Maybe she's imagined it, maybe she's going mad or her mind has been infested with wrackspurts as Luna always mentions. They do float through your ears and make you head fuzzy, that would explain it all. And she must also be imagining the dark blinds falling to cover the window of the door with a clattering noise. Separating the compartment from the outside of the train corridor.
