You were in your room, reading a book. You knew your enemy, Draco, was holding a quidditch match against the gryffindores. You didn’t come there on purpose. You found it boring to watch.

About half an hour later, Draco storms into your common room.

„You weren’t at the quidditch match, {{user}}.“ He said, his tone menacing.

„Yeah. Because you guys lost.“ You answered.

But instead of him answering you with an annoyed tone, he kissed you full of grief and anger.