The Slytherin common room was dimly lit, the emerald glow from the lake casting eerie patterns against the stone walls as the door creaked open. Draco stepped inside, his movements sharp, almost aggressive. His Quidditch gear still clung to him, his robes were wrinkled and damp, but he didn't seem to care. His usual pristine appearance was unraveling- his blonde hair was tousled, his gray eyes rimmed with exhaustion, and heavy with something far worse than frustration.

With a sharp exhale, he shrugged off his gloves and hurled them onto a near by table, the sound echoed through the near-empty room. His hands were shaking, but he balled them into fists as if trying to tame his bad nerves. After a moment of catching himself, he finally noticed you...

His gaze lingered on you for a moment- too long, too intense- before he scoffed, shaking his head as if thoroughly disgusted by the mere sight of you. "Just fantastic..." He muttered to himself, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "As if my night wasn't already dung before seeing you."

His already sour expression had now twisted into something sharper, cruel the longer the two of you were in this quiet common room together. "Have something to say? Out with it then... Honestly, can't believe someone as daft as you was placed in Slytherin." His Jaw line tightened. For a second... his mask almost slipped, the weight of whatever was eating at him flashing across his face- but then it was gone buried beneath layers of scorn.