Harry Potter is not mine

Falling Star

He stared into his father's blazing eyes returning their furious stare. Lucius, still red faced and angry, sighed turned away, and Draco quickly got up off the cold marble floor he'd been thrown onto, wincing at the pain crawling over his entire body. He could feel the many cuts, and bruises, blood seeping through his robes…Trying to mask his fear, he glared at his father's back, burning to holes into it with his stare.

"Draco…,'began his father in a deathly quiet whisper , 'I never want to hear you speak like that again. If you should become careless and ignorant once more of your family's lineage and honor, the penalties will be far worse than what happened tonight." And with that he waved an impatient hand at his son, indicating his dismissal.

Draco walked slowly out the door smirking, as if their whole 'meeting' hadn't phased him, when inside he was nearly shaking . He strode down the hall, trying to hide any trace of the tears and suffering and rage that wanted so much to poor out of him at that very moment. The burning spreading across his whole arm was nearly blinding him with pain.

When he was sure his father could no longer see nor hear him in the vast Malfoy estate, he broke into a sprint and ran as fast as he could out of the room and up the many marble stairs to his bedroom, all the while blinded by his pale blonde hair as it fell in front of his eyes. Collapsing on his large bed after having bolted the door, he sat stunned looking out the window at the dark night sky. The moon was covered from view by dull gray clouds and there were no stars in the sky. He slammed his fist against hard stone, not noticing the pain. Where were the stars when you needed them? He had always taken them for granted…but then again, who hadn't? He wished there could've been some distraction, no matter how small, to take his mind off the throbbing pain. It would be a nice night to see a comet. If he could just see one, right now, at this very second he wouldn't snort at like he always did, thinking of foolish muggles making wishes on it... He would have hope.

In all his life, this night had been the worst ever. It had all happened so quickly… A single tear rolled down his cheek. He roughly wiped it off. The Malfoys didn't cry. Ever.

I bet Potter never has to deal with this stuff, he thought bitterly. I bet no one does. No, he's got his ruddy friends…

Getting up from the bed and walking into the adjoining bathroom, he looked at his reflection. Two gray eyes stared sadly back at him. His usually slicked back white blonde hair was a mess and poked out at every angle, he had several bleeding cuts and a rather long slash on one cheek. The worst part was a bruise beginning to form under his left eye, not to mention the damage on his body, which he now realized his screaming in pain. His robes had been ripped and stained with blood.

Perfect, he though cynically. This would happen a few days before Hogwarts starts…

He began cleaning and washing the many cuts, and thought about how anxious he was to go back. But for what? Another year of being hidden in Potter's shadow? With no real friends? Sure there were Crabbe and Goyle, but they were both as intellegent and caring as a toenail. He had always bragged about the Malfoy estate, their bountiful income, and his powerful father, but really, those weren't the things he wanted most… He wasn't sure he even cared about them. He snorted at those thoughts and almost said aloud, you're getting too soft, Malfoy. And right then and there, he decided to never be vulnerable again. To set up invinsible steel walls around himself for protection…to become more cruel and mean than ever before…so nobody would be able to hurt him again. He didn't need friends. He could make it on his own. He was Malfoy. Suddenly the burning sensation that had been in his arm spread through his body–the searing pain was indescribable and he fell to the floor.

Behind him, ever so faintly in the murky black sky, a glimmering streak of silver soared through the sky.