Draco slammed his quill onto the table, spots of ink splattering across the scroll in front of him. The small unicorn that had been sniffing around some sugar cubes Draco had managed to get him from the kitchen, jumped a mile, galloping behind some books. He emerged sometime later, his mane frazzled, snorting unhappily.
Draco ignored the creature, burying his head in the palm of his hands and groaning. The stupid, prissy Gryffindor was getting on his nerves and he could swear she was doing it on purpose. Why else would she spend time with him, make like they were friends, even give him a present and then proceed to ignore him completely?
The Golden trio seemed to be pallier than ever though, wandering round the corridors, their three heads pressed together, in their own little private conversations that excluded the rest of the wizarding world who were apparently far lesser beings. He curled his hand into a fist and hit the table, sending his inkpot into the air. It landed with a crash, a little puddle of blue liquid spreading across the wood and sinking into the grain. He took one look it then covered his eyes, heaving another heavy sigh. The unicorn whinnied happily, splashing about in the spilt liquid seeming, for once, to thoroughly enjoy himself.
Draco had noticed that the present Hermione had given to him was pretty similar to her in more than just it's moods, that had a habit of changing like the weather (usually pivoting around a central theme of anger and annoyance), it also seemed to have an over-zealous love for ink, quills and all things related to books. It was far more at home in the library that it was outside, a fact he'd found out when he'd mistakenly taken it outside for a little fresh air and the little guy had spent the entire time attempting to burrow deeper into Malfoy's pocket.
Draco grit his teeth, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling of the common room. He didn't want to be bothered. He'd given admonished himself several times on the matter, only to find that it did absolutely nothing. He'd see her in the corridor, or stare at her during meal times and nothing changed. He wasn't suddenly cured of his obsession or infatuation, and the anger he felt at being ignored, at being pushed to the side, burned ever brighter.
"She's burned her bridges now," Draco said matter-of-factly, glancing down at his small companion whose legs were turning a brilliant shade of blue as he splashed about in the ink some more, "Won't be any coming back after this." The unicorn had stopped and was pinning him with a stare that told him exactly what he feared; he wasn't fooling anyone, least of all a unicorn the size of a snitch, who wasn't even supposed to understand what he was saying.
"Salazar, I need help," Draco groaned, once again covering his face with both his hands. If he spoke to her, what would he say? He couldn't tell her that he hated how much time she was spending with Scarface and Weasel, the world's crappiest hero and his just as unfortunate sidekick. He couldn't tell her that he missed her, and that her not wanting to see him, to talk to him, actually hurt. He couldn't say any of that, because...well because pride, and dignity, and because if anyone knew he thought or felt like that, he'd be a laughingstock. He realised he'd been over the same thoughts before and had always come to the same startling conclusions. He leant forward in his chair picking up his quill and dangling the end of it in front of the unicorn, smiling as it pulled a face, sneezing violently when the feather tickled the end of its nose. It took a bite out of the quill in retribution, chewing on it happily as Draco swore and tried to yank it away.
"By Salazar that is the cutest thing I've ever seen." Draco winced as Pansy screeched, bustling across the common room. With a grin she pressed her face as close as she could to the unicorn that was desperately trying to hide behind Draco's arm, burrowing his face into the material of his shirt.
"Can you go be you, somewhere else?" He gestured wearily with his hand that Pansy should move along, but the brunette ignored him, scooping the unicorn into her hands and holding the petrified animal close to her face, screeching when the hoofed demon bit the end of her nose. Draco watched in mild amusement as the unicorn whinnied in panic, trying to wiggle free of the brown-haired witch's grasp.
"Where did you get this little guy?" She grinned happily, rubbing the small creature against her cheek.
"That would be filed under, none of your business Parkinson, now would you put him down?" Pansy glared at him but, begrudgingly placed it back on the desk. With a snort, it clopped its way across the table, huddling down behind of pile of books, poking it head round periodically to check that the strange squealing witch wasn't going to descend again.
"What's his name?" Pansy asked, leaning back against the table.
"He doesn't have one."
'What?! But he's got to have one. He's too cute not to." Draco rolled his eyes.
"And I care why?"
"Because, he's cute and I'm telling you that you have to. Now how about Speckles?"
"Please tell me you are attempting to be witty, I would hate to think that was all you could come up with."
"Oh, har de har, aren't you the joker," Pansy scowled down at him, pushing herself off the desk and stalking over to the fire, "I thought it would be a good name, you know, because of all the ink on his legs."
Draco looked at the pile of books, grinning as he caught the unicorn chancing a nervous look. When thoroughly convinced the threat had moved on elsewhere, he wandered out from behind the books and dipped on hoof tentatively into the ink. Draco had to admit that, while it wasn't the most imaginative of names it did seem the most appropriate.
"So, what you think?" Draco muttered, leaning on his arms so his face was closer to the animal. While he'd given into talking to him, he didn't particularly want anyone else to know, "Speckles a good name?" The unicorn looked affronted, his head pulled back in utter disgust and disbelief. Draco couldn't help but laugh, a wide grin spreading across his face as the unicorn moodily showed his backside.
"I don't think he likes that name, Pans."
"Who doesn't like what name?" Blaise asked. The tall boy wandered over to Draco's desk, looking dishevelled.
"Draco's got a unicorn," Pansy pointed out from her seat by the fire, ignoring the look Draco was cutting her.
"You've got a what?" Blaise spluttered, his eyes finally landing on the animal in question, who was flicking his tail lazily and appraising Blaise in a rather bored manner.
"Wow," He muttered, creeping forward slowly, frightened he would spook it. "Where did you get that?"
"Why is everyone so concerned with my business recently?" Draco snapped.
"Whatever, keep your hair on," he shrugged, standing up to his full height and dumping his bag on the floor. "You named it yet?"
"No, no I haven't, now if there isn't anything else, would you kindly, bugger off," Draco bit out. Blaise stepped back, raising his arms in surrender, backing off towards the fireplace where Pansy was sat.
"What did you do?" Blaise muttered as he made himself comfortable in a chair across from her, looking back over his shoulder to check that Draco couldn't hear them. The blonde didn't move, and Blaise figured he was safe.
"I didn't do anything," Pansy scoffed, looking rather affronted, "He was laughing a moment ago."
In spite of what his friends thought, he could hear them perfectly well, Pansy had never been one for keeping her voice down and Blaise's deep voice cut through most noise. He didn't mean to snap at them, though he would never admit it. Their questions skirted dangerously close to Granger territory and he would rather any type of terrible, horrendous torture over having that conversation with them. He could imagine the looks on all their faces, then the general disbelief, possible hexing, the usual Slytherin shenanigans. He remembered one Halloween when a sixth year had admitted to getting all too close and personal with someone of the heroic lion persuasion, the uproar in the common room had been of grand proportions and Draco was in no doubt that, by the end of the proceedings, the sixth year was in no mood to go within 10ft of a Gryffindor.
"I don't think he's sleeping properly you know?" Pansy speculated, leaning closer to Blaise conspiratorially, "would account for his mood being so erratic."
"Figures, Crabbe and Goyle aren't known for being quiet sleepers." Pansy nodded to herself as if Blaise's words had confirmed her suspicions. He had been out of sorts the past few weeks, seeming more on edge and irritable than ever before. Pansy figured it was something to do with his mystery girl, but all investigation into her identity had been met with a brick wall, or Theo and Blaise shaking their heads and telling her to back off. The two idiots had been anything but helpful, but she had not given up. There was a girl, she knew it, could feel it in her bones. She also figured that the small unicorn had something to do with her as well.
"What in Merlin's name is that?" Pansy was brought out of her thoughts by Theo's excited voice, he was leaning over Draco's table a smile plastered on his face. Draco mumbled something inaudible under his breath.
"Has he got a name?" Pansy winced, as she watched Draco's handshake.
"What is it with you idiots and names? Yes, he does have a name, it's called Keep-you-nose-out-of-my-business Malfoy. You happy?" The smile dropped from Theo's face, as he glanced across the room in panic, looking for help from his two friends. Pansy shook her head at him and gestured that he should back away.
Theo walked towards her, his eyes wide in shock, "Sooooo, what or who annoyed the ferret?" He pointed over his shoulder and flopped down onto the sofa, looking at Blaise and Pansy in turn, both of them shrugged.
"Pansy seems to think it's lack of sleep," Blaise muttered, staring into the fire.
"What are you, his mother? And I'm sorry, the albino sleeps like the dead, I should know, I'm the one who has the particularly nasty business of waking him up every morning. I've got scars."
"You know, I can hear you." Draco gave his friends a dark look, rolling his eyes when they turned to him innocently and shifted closer to one another, mumbling the rest of their conversation under their breath.
With a huff he rose from his chair, taking the small unicorn in his hands and tucking him in the front pocket of his shirt. He made his way towards the door, hoping that they wouldn't notice him retreating.
"Oh Drake, mate, Vinny and Greg are looking for you, they were blabbering on about a talking bug," the Slytherin said with a shrug, "one too many screws loose, me thinks."
Draco for once, allowed himself a small grin, knowing exactly who was waiting to meet him. One thing that always made him feel better was exacting revenge on the person he hated the most, stupid Scarface. With a nod, he left the common room.
Pansy turned to Theo, shaking her head. "You do realise who that is don't you?"
"Who's what?" Theo asked, his eyes already closing and head resting against the back of the couch, hands groping blindly for the stuffed snake cushion.
"Oh, never mind," She uttered, stretching out her legs and balancing them on Blaise's lap. He gave them a look, before turning back to the fire.
They were silent for quite some time and soon Theo was snoring lightly.
"Sorrel," Blaise suddenly muttered, his eyes not leaving the embers of the fire.
"What?" Pansy frowned, leaning forward in her chair to catch what her fellow Slytherin was saying.
"Sorrel, that's what Draco should call his unicorn, Sorrel Darling Mane." Pansy simply stared at him, her mouth opening and closing.
"Is that what you've been thinking about, all this time?" Blaise cringed slightly.
"A little bit, yeah."
"You're actually an idiot."
"Oh contraire, Parkinson, I think he's a genius." Both of them turned to a grinning Theo, "Came up with that all on your own?"
"Hmm, thought the little bugger needed something mournful sounding."
"I see your point, he does belong to Malfoy."
"You two are morons," Pansy sniffed dismissively.
"You speak, but alas, all I hear is jealousy," Theo uttered dramatically making Blaise chuckle. Pansy dug her heel into the boy's leg, grinning as he winced.
"Footrest privileges can be taken away, Parkinson," Blaise muttered darkly watching as Pansy smiled back at him sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes.
"Horny Horsington; Small in stature, big in everything else, if you know what I mean." Theo wiggled his eyebrows suggestively
"Urgh, you are disgusting. How can you make something so sweet and cute sound so – so-" Pansy's nose wrinkled as the common room filled with laughter.
"You have to admit, it's a little bit funny Pans." Blaise wiped a tear from the corner of his eyes, shoulders shaking.
"Who do you suppose gave it him?" she whispered, moving across to sit next to Theo, tucking her feet beneath her and leaning her head on the arm of the chair. She smiled softly when, after a few moments, Blaise began to run his fingers through the strands of hair that fell between the gap of the chairs. There were always these little displays of sweetness when he knew that there was no chance of anyone catching him.
"I don't know, who says anyone did?" Blaise shrugged. He glanced at Pansy then quickly glanced away, too embarrassed to hold her gaze.
"Well, he got pretty defensive when I asked him about it."
"Urschel Hoof," Theo suggested, suddenly.
"I'm being serious," Pansy spluttered.
"So am I, Urschel is a fantastic name."
"I don't know, I think you outdid yourself with Horny Horsington," Blaise added.
"I did, didn't I?"
"Will you two take something seriously for once in your miserable, pea-brained lives?" Theo and Blaise cast each other amused glances before turning back to Pansy.
"We are taking this seriously, very seriously. In fact, I think this is the most I've thought about anything all day."
"Same," Blaise muttered, sounding thoroughly pleased with himself.
"I'm not on about the unicorn, I'm on about…"
"Draco," Blaise finished for her, "'we know. That's all you seem to bang on about these days. No offence Pans, but conversations with you are starting to feel a bit like Deja vu."
"That rhymed," Theo pointed out with a grin, "which makes it even more true." Pansy silently fumed, her lips pressed into a thin line. Silence filled the room, broken suddenly by Pansy rising moodily to her feet.
"Well, I at least want to know what business he had with Skeeter." She lifted her nose into the air and stormed out of the room, not bothering to look back.
"Did she just say, Skeeter?" Blaise asked, watching her go. "Isn't she a journalist?" Theo shrugged, not bothering to open his eyes.
"Who knows. What about Lewi Longhorn?' Blaise considered it for a minute, then shook his head.
"Nah mate, you had with Horny Horsington."
"I did, didn't I?" He said, grinning happily to himself.