druna things.

nighttime.

Imagine Draco wandering the halls of Hogwarts late night because he can't sleep and he'd damn well rather be walking than just laying there staring at a blank ceiling with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. And he runs into Astria, who doesn't even try to hide the fact that she's out of bed at night because no one ever really pays her any attention anyway. She's barefoot and in cute muggle pj's with candies on them and her hair is up in a messy bun with loose strands falling behind her ears. Anyway, Draco tries to wait behind a statue until she passes, but she stops right in front of the statue and stares at it. Doesn't say a word. Just admires the beauty etched in stone and the way the moonlight filters through the stained glass window in between puffs of clouds in the night sky to illuminate the figure in front of her. She'd probably take a good five or ten minutes, just staring in silence. Draco would feel his impatience growing but wouldn't move a muscle because really, who wants to talk to crazy buns staring at a fucking stone statue in the middle of the night? And he really has no room to talk because his ass is stuck behind said statue until she moves. But she doesn't move, that's the thing, and it's driving him fucking nuts waiting for her to walk away. Finally, she turns away, doesn't walk off, but says in a quiet and humble voice, "You'll never be able to sleep with all those wrackspurts in your ear, Draco. You should try warm tea." And walks off, leaving Draco irritated that despite his best efforts to hide, she knew he was there all along. He huffs off back to the dungeons and is so irritated he scoffs her off, but makes hot tea anyway because it's the middle of the night and he still can't sleep and now he's just pissed. But when he sits on common room sofa and drinks his tea, he starts to calm down, the sofa feels warmer and softer, and he scoots further down into it. He's so preoccupied with loony bits that he's momentarily forgotten why he was stressed out in the first place. He thinks of just how crazy she might be, and dozes off right in the lounge. When he wakes the next day the first thing he'd see was his empty tea cup, and he'd call it a coincidence but also entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, there was more to her than meets the eye. he'd silently thank the girl in his head for her advice.