"Tch, is that even a question? It's already bad you talk to hardly anyone but Hermione, but you're in Gryffindor? The worst house apart from Hufflepuff." He said, snickering softly under his breath, gorgeous blue eyes rolling. "I'm shocked it took you so long to figure that out, Cinthy. I mean, you're supposed to be somewhat smart, right? Guess I was wrong." He said in a snobbish tone, the rich boy attitude clear. His bleach blonde hair had small strands that were loose and falling onto his forehead.
Livi's brown irises beamed, her neatly done eyebrows furrowing and introducing themselves to her eyelids, hands shaking as she checked her mind for the words to string together a reply, only finding mumbles and words that make no sense. Who did he think he was? Why did he hate her so much? She should have known not to ask, but someone she decided too. Why did she even want to talk to this guy? The only thing Draco Malfoy ever wanted to do was give her dirty looks in the hallway, stare at her like she was a stray dog, treat her like utter shit. "Oh.. I'm sorry.." She wished now more than anything that Hermione and the others would come to whisk her away.
Draco stared down at her, bright blue eyes boring down at her brown eyes. "You should really put up a fight. What if I were to tug at your pretty ginger hair as if you were a Weasley. You'd probably just apologize." He said, before letting out a soft sigh, and looking almost... sympathetic.
"Ugh, I have to go. Honestly, such a bore." He moved a hand up to his hair to fix it.
Oliviana, still trying to wrap her head around the situation, flinched at all of his movements. Did he compliment her hair? And take it back? Well, in his own way, of course, due to the fact that Malfoy considered Weasley an insult. "I uh-," she mumbled, watching as his pale arms graced his face, the veins from his wrist blueish and exposed. She blushed bright red, competing graciously with hair. "Okay..bye?" She squeaked.
The blonde male gave the other a soft glance, a brow raising. He seemed amused. "You're face is actually redder than your hair. What? Does little Cinthy have a crush on me? Wouldn't be surprised." He chuckled, voice slightly sensual. "I am the hottest boy in Slytherin. If not, the whole school." He looked down at her, clearly teasing the ginger. He winked, snickering.
Although the girl had way too many thoughts in her head, many opinions she couldn't or rather didn't want to express, she stepped back from him and bit her lip nervously, pearly white teeth exposing themselves only for a moment for them to be covered. She finally allowed her tongue to tweak and exclaim at least one of the many things going through her head.
"Don't... call me Cinthy." She demanded, wondering once again where her friends had gone. They knew she couldn't stand up to him, or even talk to him without someone holding her hand, keeping her from falling apart. She needed to escape this habit. She most likely would have brought up a bigger issue, had she the gut, like for instance his dreadful arrogance. But she couldn't.
Draco raised a brow, a grin arising to his lips. "What's this? Little Cinthy speaking up for herself? Hmm.. Alright. To celebrate you actually being able to talk... I think I'll stop calling you Cinthy. Maybe." He snickered, chuckling deeply. He reached out and placed a cool hand underneath her chin, looking at her smugly. "I'll see you around, Oliviana." He said with snobbish tone, letting her chin before he waltzed off, joining some of his classmates.
Something about the grip on her chin made Livi melt underneath his touch, her hands started to shake more, eyes glimmering as he said her name. The way he pronounced it, he seemed to be skilled in the art of talking as well as well as...everything else. The way her name rolled off his tongue. She felt like falling. Watching as he left, she tensed, turning around to see her friends finally arriving to her "rescue."
Hermione was finally jogging down to the other, her arms full of books. "Sorry, Oliviana! Harry and Ron kept me in the library." She said, her brown hair practically a mess. "You're face is really red. Are you sick?" She asked, about to check before Professor McGonagall called the students to class.