As much as Draco simply wanted to scream at himself, and keep screaming, until he was blasted hoarse and everything felt better, somehow, because then his throat would feel nearly as badly as his head did, he harshly curbed that side of himself.
Instead, he started running. Now, it wasn't just anyone who could run through Hogwarts like a bat out of Hell (Snape never ran, he strode), but Draco Malfoy had long ago learned the dusty, forgotten ways. And so when he spilled out onto the top of the Astronomy Tower, blinking in the bright light, the sight that greeted the picnicking couple was remarkable. Unforgettable. Astonishing.
Draco Malfoy, clad in sweat, his hair dripping with it, his face nearly pink* with exertion. Dashing past them, he ran to the railing, and let out a yawp, letting it echo over the entire land.
Turning backward, still holding the railing, he looked at the couple, tucked together - and inexplicably paused. Or perhaps not so hard to understand. They looked quite frightened, really.
"Do you mind?" Draco hissed, and they fled, leaving the picnic basket behind. Draco strolled over, looking at the basket, before picking up the bottle of red and pouring a sniff into one of the glasses.
"Delightful," Draco's voice purred, and he poured another, downing the entire glass. There was something about a bit of a buzz that inspired feats of ingenuity. And Draco knew he was going to need every ounce of determination to get this right.
*he's still pale, guys. he doesn't even blush right. sorry.
[a/n: Nope, he's not going on a bender. 13, guys. Entirely too young for that, at least without getting horsewhipped by Snape for doing it in Public.]