- 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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𝕺onagh went to visit Neville in the Hospital Wing.
A knee-reversal hex, switching the front of his knees for the back, preventing him from walking very far in the castle. She'd felt terribly guilty about the entire thing, especially when Neville apologised profusely for pretending to be her boyfriend, insisting he knows they're just friends. He hadn't wanted her to get hurt, instead he ended up getting hurt.
Apparently he was hexed from behind, just like Su Li and Morag Macdougal had been before Christmas. A mystery. Oonagh knew better.
She hadn't talked to Draco since the incident in the hallways or had seen him enough to be able to talk to him. She expected he locked himself up working on the task he's briefly mentioned. Unless he's avoiding her, which miffed her off because she hadn't done anything wrong. And even if she played along with it, Neville was only doing it to protect her, he had her best interests at heart, he didn't know the truth.
She skirts through the busy corridors, humming to one of her favourite songs Follow You, Follow Me to herself, aimlessly wandering as she does. Her nose crinkles up and she fights a disgusted noise at the sight of Lavender smothering Ron with affection in one of the window seats.
Clasped in her hand is a rather flashy and soppy chain around Ron's neck, reading 'My Sweetheart'. Apparently it was a Christmas present the Weasley siblings and Harry immensely enjoyed teasing him for. Ron didn't look entirely thrilled, or like he necessarily wanted to be there. Oonagh had thought they would have broken up by now, especially if he's only with Lavender to ignite jealousy in Hermione. And he was successful.
She shakes her head, telling herself it wasn't her place to get involved. Being nosy was okay and acceptable only from a distance, and with the help of Draco's eyes and ears all around — something she also hadn't had in quite a few days, only relying on Susan and the portraits for gossip updates.
Once drifting her gaze from the couple, she scoots between a group of younger students, suddenly coming to a halt in the middle, their protests and objections falling deaf to her ears.
The answer was there as clear as day, now. He wasn't locking himself away, he was just avoiding her. Miffed off didn't cut it anymore, pissed was more like it. Her friends weren't the ones insulting him, he hadn't been called a foul, churlish slur for something he couldn't control, for something as foolish as blood status.
Draco had yet to notice her, head bowed, giving Oonagh the short opportunity to soak him up the godly sight of him before spinning on her heels. Black. Perpetually and eternally in black. No other boy at Hogwarts dressed like him, so sexy and so sinful. God, it made her delirious, because whilst she was pissed at him, she's still overly attracted to him.
He had her in a spellbind, too entranced to have realised he had also now sensed her presence, staring right back at her. Grey to blue. Oonagh huffed, coming to her senses shortly, swinging her leg around and heading back the way she came, speeding up quicker when footsteps from behind followed her.
