Author's Note - Whoops. I posted this before I was quite ready to. Sorry to you who have read it without this note!
a bit of a warning, I suppose... this is my first go at a fanfic since the 7th grade. I'm going to try really hard to make it worth reading. Feel free to comment, criticize, or whatever else you can think of. I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with this yet, but I have a vague idea. I also don't know how frequently updated it will be, given that I have a lot to painting to do in the next month, and then I'm headed back to school.
also. I apologize, because I know this is a very short chapter. Consider this a test run ;)
Draco Malfoy let his fair head fall against the rough bark of the tree, not bothering to wince at the dull twinge that shot down his spine upon impact. The dampness of the grass underneath him quickly soaked through his robes, and seemed to penetrate into his very soul. He clenched the muscles of his jaw, willing his teeth to quit their chattering. Despite his listless mood, he had to admit that the lake was very beautiful. Underneath the moonlight, the water and everything surrounding it adopted a cool grey hue, deepened by the blue velvet of the sky. This was just as well – he doubted he would have been able to stand the warm, brilliant colors of a typical summer evening. Not tonight. Tonight he needed a storm.
He took a slow, labored breath, feeling his lungs and ribcage expand with the effort. As he exhaled, his eyelids slowly lowered themselves, and he tried to rid his mind of excess thoughts. The first few weeks of the term had drifted by in a haze. He remembered very little of what had happened, and he really didn't care to. Everything was different now. 7th year was supposed to be a celebration; a coming of age. It was supposed to be his year. Instead, he felt more empty than ever before. He cared nothing about his grades, he barely associated with his "friends", and he held little regard for his future. He had plenty of gold to get him through what he expected to be a very short and miserable existence. Why put forth an effort? He didn't want to try. He didn't want to feel. Feeling had caused him more pain than good.
He scrunched lower down, shifting uncomfortably as his robes bunched into a tangle directly under the small of his back. As the sharp point of a tree root cut into his palm, he jerked back up into sitting position and cursed angrily. Wiping the small smear of blood onto his knee, he focused upon the surface of the water, which rippled toward him and broke softly against the sandy shore. A low sigh escaped his lips, carrying across the night air into the stillness. His sigh was echoed in the wind, which suddenly whistled through the trees and caused the tall grass to ripple across the hills in inconsistent waves. The hard planes of his face seemed to be chiseled out of stone, and he sat as still as a statue, observing everything around him, yet appearing to absorb none of it. There was something about his pose, however, that betrayed his guise of strength. The curve of the back that spoke of weariness, the hardness around the eyes that hinted of pain, the tightly balled fists that screamed for relief.
In short, Draco Malfoy was lost.
(A/N - the last line isn't literal, just in case you missed that. He's still at Hogwarts. Also, I'm having some major difficulties with the layout and indenting and such. apparently tab doesn't work in the editing thingy? Any pointers would be appreciated.)