❝ talk to him, strike up a conversation like i do ❞
❝ i can't, jackie! i know nothing about quidditch ❞
❝ well here in lies the problem, dria ❞
━━━━ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐒 | dria lockaby had all the booksmarts i...
booksmarts and broomsticks act iii , turning tables chapter thirty-eight, study dates and jaffa cakes
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➖PENNY CLEARWATER ➖ september 1993
"I THOUGHT I MADE IT clear to him, you see? I told the class they were very easily offended."
It had been a fairly quiet during the morning Dria had spent volunteering in the Hospital Wing. There hadn't been much disturbance other than a few teary-eyed first years that had complained of being homesick. She's sent them back to their classes with a few words of advice (and, of course, a chocolate frog from Madam Pomfrey's supply) and thought herself rather accomplished.
At least, that was the case until Hagrid had barged through the doors with a bloodied Draco Malfoy in his arms causing Dria to ditch her Witch Weekly magazine and jump to attention in guiding them to a nearby bed.
"Though I can't imagine anything I say will matter much once his father hears of what's happened." The new Professor let out a large sigh once the Slytherin boy had been placed on the bed.
"It's alright, Hagrid." Dria told him with a tight-lipped smile as she tried to ignore the squirming of her new patient. "We'll fix him up in no time."
The blonde could see Hagrid begin to nod along with her words as she readjusted the pillow to support the Malfoy boy's head.
"Alright." Hagrid stated before making a hasty exit from the Hospital Wing, his worried breaths echoing away down the corridor as he went.
"It's killing me! It's killing me!"
Dria had to use all her might in order to suppress the frustrated groan threatening to leave her lips at the boy's complaint as he writhed on the bed, clutching his arm.
