"Ruin my fun, why don't you?" Morag said through a pout, smacking his arm once again. No matter, she thought as he kept talking, just because he had said no, didn't mean she would actually listen to him. Morag MacDougal didn't take orders from anyone, specially not anyone younger than her. And even if she didn't get Dean as her personal slave - and really, how horrid could that be? - she would get her fun in some other way.
"As for your hat, I suggest you hide it in your trunk and use your best locking charm to keep it from being shred into pieces." If there was something Morag was, besides heartless and a total annoyance, it was stubborn. The more Dean kept arguing about the bloody hat, the more she wanted to get rid of it and once she got her mind set on something - even if it was something as ridiculous as a hat - she wouldn't keep still until she accomplished it. "You do realise that ignoring someone who shares a room with you is impossible, right? And I don't care, really, if he knows it was you. You can hold your own against him and if he gets too whiny, you can simply sew his mouth shut."
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