- 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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𝕴t's lessons like Potions that Draco's grown to hate.
Not only because Slughorn is overly jolly and smothers Potter in praise like many, also because there's a lack of sunshine. His Sunshine to be precise. It's probably for the greater good, that Oonagh doesn't take potions, no one needs the classroom up in flames, but it doesn't make him miss her company any less.
He nearly considered bunking off to be with her, or atleast spending the time in the Room of Requirements now instead of later. With Potter's watchful eye in the lesson, he decided against it. Instead he'll endure the boredom driving him towards the cliff edge to the seas of death. And Slughorn essentially kissing the ground Potter walks on.
Spying the time on the clock, he narrowly manages to withstand his groan, rather ending up with a morose frown.
"What's with the frowny face, Malfoy? Your girlfriend not in this class?" Theo asks, teasingly prodding at the corner of his mouth with the end of a stirrer he grabbed from nearby.
A dark grunt breaks free from his chest, swatting Theo's hands away and shooting him a dangerous look. Because Pansy was close, close enough to hear the key word — title she's been chasing after for months.
She whips around in a flash, tuning out from Slughorn's lecture, eyes darting between him and Theo, "What's this?"
The corners of Theo's lips twisted upwards into a smirk, a smirk full of trouble making. Just as he's about to naturally put Draco on Pansy's radar too, the blonde beats him to it, hissing as he shoves his friend harshly in the ribs to shut him up,
"None of your business"
She arched a challenging brow at him, hands moving to her hips, a silent demand to Draco to confirm her theories based off Theo's previous words. Draco point blank ignores her, re-affirming in a different manner that it's none of their business what he's up to, just like with his task. Even if he did verify he's seeing someone, he's not going to reveal Oonagh's identity to them — no matter how deep their measures go to get him to let up.
Blaise, briefly pondering on all the signs that lead to the theory Draco's sneaking around with a girl, leans in to inquire thoughtfully,
"Aren't you to be betrothed soon?"
"Not if I have anything to do with it"
It's resentful, bitter and barely hearable, lingering in the air all the same, right from his sinful lips. To the three, it's detectable he spoke, but it's lost on them with the help of Slughorn's cheery tones in front. Draco rakes a hand through his fair locks, stamping out the heart-wrenching reminder of his future arranged marriage. One step at a time.
Pansy scoffs, refraining from being shy about her malicious plans when she discovers which girl is the one receiving her well-deserved 'Draco attention'. Draco physically has to clutch the pockets of his trousers, reminding himself he can't jab the pointy end of his wand to Pansy's throat, warning to never hurt a single hair on his girl's head. Or else she can kiss her luxurious life goodbye.
