sol•stice n.
1.Either of two times of the year when the sun is at its greatest distance from the celestial equator. The summer solstice in the Northern Hemisphere occurs about June 21, when the sun is in the zenith at the tropic of Cancer; the winter solstice occurs about December 21, when the sun is over the tropic of Capricorn. The summer solstice is the longest day of the year and the winter solstice is the shortest.
2.A highest point or culmination.
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The warm summer breeze twined it's self around the blonde boy, carrying with it the smell of the sea and freshly churned earth. It was almost the end of school term and inpatients for the year to finally be completed were evident about the school, Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Draco Malfoy sat outside on a stone balcony, though not a true balcony; it was more of an outside niche that a single astronomy student could use from time to time. But no one would find him up there, and that he was glad of. Draco was thinking, many scattered thoughts came and left but only one pulsing problem stayed in the background, waiting, biding its time until the right moment to make its self presentable, unavoidable and he would be forced to think about it. Going home.
Many teenagers, children and parents alike were ecstatic about the up coming hols, but Draco was not. It's hard to explain why, really, even to himself, though analyzing his reasons hadn't brought him to any new conclusion: he hated the warmer seasons, midsummer just happened to be the worst.
His left hand reached into his robes to retrieve a cigarette, and then light it with a muggle lighter. Taking a drag he almost choked when laughing; if his father could see him now using something muggles used. As pathetic as it sounded he guessed he first started using them as a silent rebellion. No one knew it except him, but it was enough. He'd of course have to be rid of any of them by the time he was on the train, but that wouldn't be a problem because it wasn't really his. He'd nicked one from a mud blood in the study room.
As he sat there on a stone bench, hugging his thighs to his chest, head resting on his knees, Draco gazed out at the Dark Forrest. It was beautiful in his eyes; you could see all of the individual trees from up there, their colors vividly different with some trees than others, blending in and forming a mass of black or dark Slytherin green. Deeper into the woods was where everything was part of something else, trees bled into another almost like their tops were just one organism shading the ground where no sunlight had touched the ground in a literal century or more.
He could feel the wild magic pulsing from that place, the dark almost black patches of the forest. Draco was very perceptive. Every year when he came back to the school he'd be exceptionally more unpleasant with people because after two and a half months of his singular energy pattern he had to readjust to the literal force field of different powers and energies that fly around Hogwarts. It gave him head aches and the like, but mostly he ignored it, head aches didn't bother him that much any more.
Scattered on the grounds were Hogwarts students hauling luggage and chatting with friends, his eyes narrowed at the site. He hated this school, and hated the students even more. Except for a select few like Zabini and Montague, but every one else he couldn't stand.
That was the reason he said Blaise could stay over the summer break, because he knew he could stand him pretty well and if he couldn't Blaise would know enough to leave him alone. He hadn't asked his father but automatically said, "Go ahead and send a letter home telling them you can, Lucius won't care." Why? He didn't know. He just thought that things might be a little bit better if he had some one there with him. He wouldn't be so alone and maybe Lucius would hold back once and a while.
Finishing his cigarette and flicking it over the railing, Draco stood and walked inside. He had to check his packing, those stupid house elves never did anything right, then he had to find Blaise. He couldn't wait to get out of this place; away from Dumbledor, away from Potter, away from every one.
A/N: Yes this is the PREQUELL to The Collector. Set a year before (6th year). I'm only putting up the first chapter for now, I'm NOT updating anytime soon so don't even expect it. Sorry :o) I just felt like writing it out. My project i do want to work on is rewriting the last chapter on The Abyss then another chapter on it, THEN I'll think about this one. Review and i'll love you...and write more
-Dimi