- 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.
✧✧✧✧✧
𝕾he was scrapbooking.
Sticking down the polaroids from the past two months into her overflowing book, labelling and doodling across the pages to make them look colourful. Usually at the end of each month, she reaches for her tin underneath her bed, and keeps up to date. Oonagh had missed a month — and thought that she may as well catch up considering her bedraggled state.
For the entire day, it's been sweats, sweets and canary yellow curtains casted shut, blocking out daylight hours. When it's nearly bed time, hair of the dog to do the trick. She was scrapbooking when her curtains were ripped open, and a beam of light strikes at her evilly,
"No! Too bright, too bright, too bright, too bright—" She cries out, hurriedly dropping the next polaroid to cover her eyes, willing away the white and green dots in her vision — and the increased pain to her head,
"I'm truly sorry my angelic radiance is of an inconvenience to you"
Oonagh immediately peeps through a gap between her fingers, a warm smile gracing her lips at the sight. Draco's standing there, in his hand, a crumpled, brown paper bag full of goodness — she just knows it is. She's temporarily distracted by him being there, and the brown bag, that it takes an embarrassingly long time for her mind to catch up with the erratic beating of her heart. Draco's there. In the Hufflepuff dorms.
Draco smoothly steps to the side just in time for Oonagh to leap from her bed like a madwoman, blue-blue eyes comically wide. He's calmly collecting up the scrapbooking supplies and tidying up the disgracefully ruffled mess of the bed as she finally squawks out,
"How did you get in here?!"
"Through the front barrel door, darling" He answers nonchalantly, glaring at the sticky tape, sticking to his fingers.
He wiggles them, then shakes them, grumbling when it sticks to his other hand in the process of peeling it off. Atleast it's efficient. Oonagh whips her head around to the joined bathroom, realising that the water was running, and that one of her fellow Hufflepuff's was in the shower, and would probably go into heart failure if they came out to find the Prince of Slytherin in their dorm, while only wrapped in a towel.
"How did nobody see you?!" She asks frantically, now essentially bouncing up and down on her feet now, not helping her hangover whatsoever.
Draco continues, appearing just as cool as composed as ever, assorting her glittery pens into a nice rainbow order, waving off much to Oonagh's dismay,
"They did. I obliviated them all, otherwise I would have been here ten minutes earlier"
The Irish witch couldn't quite tell if that was a blatant lie with hints of sarcasm, or whether it was the blatant truth and there was ten or fifteen Hufflepuffs in the common room with altered memories of the past fifteen minutes. With Draco, it could be either way. Her heart flips when his silver eyes find hers, a mild smile on his lips, that tells her that he was only kidding. The Hufflepuffs have perfect memories. For now.
