AN:I don't own Harry Potter...
Vanity
Chapter 1: I am a Malfoy
You're cynical and beautiful
You always make a scene
You're monochrome delirious
You're nothing that you seem
I'm drowning in your vanity
You're laugh is a disease
You're dirty and you're sweet
You know your everything I need
Dizzy' by Goo Goo Dolls
SMASH. The sound echoed throughout the small dorm as a heavy porcelain object was obliterated against the wall.
Draco Malfoy picked it another priceless trinket and tossed it up and down, wondering.
Why me? He flung the trinket against the wall, watching as it collided against the wall.
This Christmas he was to take up position destined for him. He was to take his place at Voldemort's right hand.
And he didn't want to do it!
Draco Malfoy wasn't scared... he wasn't suddenly afflicted with a conscience either... It was simply arrogance, and self-centeredness that was displayed by this act of insolence.
Draco Malfoy was his own boss.
After Potter and Weasley put his father in Azkaban during fifth year, he became head of the Malfoy Family, and he was in complete control of himself and his immense wealth. And now in his seventh year, he loved it. Nothing was going to make him second best. Not even Voldemort.
He wasn't changing sides, of course. He was not a muggle loving fool like Albus Dumbledore, and he certainly wasn't a hero like Potter.
He was a Malfoy, and the name deserves respect.
He just wouldn't come home at Christmas. Nothing could force him, too, so bloody hell! Let them try!
He walked down to dinner, and sat down between Crabbe and Goyle, and across from Pansy and Blaise.
Hey, Draco, Pansy said seductively.
She was trying to regain the relationship they had in fourth year. Before she slept with Derric Freyton, a Hufflepuff.
Pansy, why don't you understand? I don't want you back! We are through! he snarled.
She, however, was oblivious to his dislike of her.
Ohhh, Drakie-
Don't call me that! he glared and was about to yell some more, but Dumbledore stood up to address the school.
Dingbat, he thought snidely.
May I have your attention! his eyes swept across the room and settled looking at him and winking.
Did he just- he was about to question the wink, but he realized there was no one intelligent to talk to. He sighed.
I am pleased to inform you that there is a new nursing assistant to help out Madame Pomphrey in the Hospital Wing.
A door opened and in walked a girl about his age walked in. She had Dark red hair that flowed down to her waist, and the most pale flawless skin he had ever seen.
May I present Lyren Claire... Dumbledore's voice faded as he was entranced by her movements.
She wasn't wearing robes, he noticed. She was wearing non-wizarding clothes, muggle clothes.
Bloody hell, she looked good in muggle clothes.
She was wearing a black tank top with a black lace shirt over it. She wore tight black pants, which were slung low showing about two inches of skin between.
She was perfect.
She looked at the multitude of students and flashed a smile.
He studied her... yes she was perfect, and she knew it too.
He looked around the great hall to gage the approval of the new medi-assistant. All around the hall several mouths hung open, including Potter and Weasley.
He smirked as Granger smacked them both on the face to wake them up.
Soon enough, dinner was over, and he realized he needed sleep. Tomorrow was quidditch: Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw.
It was a perfect day for quidditch. The sky was a little overcast, but that would prevent the sun from getting in his eyes. It wasn't going to rain either he hoped, but no one could tell. The grass was green; the air cool, but not even the slightest bit cold. It was perfect.
Draco entered the field in good spirits. Slytherin would win, he could just feel it. He had told the team, as he was the new captain, to play fair. This was his final year and he wanted to win because of skill. Save the dirty tricks until the Gryffindor game.
Madame Hooch started the game and he launched in the air, enjoying the feeling of the air rushing around him.
He flew around looking around for the snitch. He observed from the corner of his eye, Slytherin chasers breaking the Ravenclaw formation. He smirked as he realized that if fouls were given they wouldn't be his team. He told them if you foul you are out.
And they were good the give the Malfoy name respect.
Slytherin scored, but he didn't notice as he was studying the sky for the snitch.
A glint of gold was spotted at the goal post closest the Ravenclaw seeker, so he dived in the opposite direction, distracting her long enough for the snitch to fly away unnoticed. and he pulled up from his dive, he heard Hooch call a foul. He glared mightily at the offender, Bulstrode, his newest beater.
He called timeout and the team flew to the ground to meet him.
Sorry, Draco, started Bulstrode.
He grabbed the bat from the hand that held it, and tossed it to the reserve beater. He stood up and Bulstrode sat down, looking dejected.
When I say no fouls, he threw a look around, I mean no fouls.
He got back on his broom and the game resumed.