draco sprawled out on his bed, every comment leaving his lips with a teasing edge to it as he showed a lack of interest of going to sleep soon. despite his ‘concern’ uprising for his big quidditch match against gryffindor in the morning, the one that would decide if slytherin wins the house cup? yeah, that one

you were too much of a distraction, so he says. like he hadn’t been entertaining your relentless chatter and gossip all night. he’s too full of his own ego to admit that maybe, he actually enjoys listening to you talk. more so the frustration that overcomes you at the mere mention of umbridge and her evil schemes, or worse - a gryffindor student you disliked. it gave him a good excuse to admire.

“go to sleep?” he repeats after you insisted, like the idea was merely pathetic and a muggle concept. but you knew better, you would be the one on the receiving end of his bitching when the time comes, when he’s exhausted.

“i would go to sleep, if you stopped talking” he scoffed simply like he hadn’t just been engaging in your small talk. resting his arms up behind his head, the clench of his jaw didn’t go unnoticed at his pathetic attempt to hide that stupid smirk. he couldn’t resist, especially not that disapproving gaze on your face.