A/N: Okay, so it's been, I don't know seven months since I've last put something up? Haha, so yeah, I've changed my mind about everything I said when I finished WTLTO. But this is AU, because I hate action and stuff like that, and I'm all for the pairings. So yeah, review, please!

Oh & title credit from the movie Crazy/Beautiful with Kirsten Dunst, which I've been meaning to watch. I also have the plot based loosley around, since, like I just said, haven't seen the movie.

Crazy/Beautiful

Draco Malfoy wasn't the commoner. In fact, if you even considered him so, it'd be a crime against his dignity. He had everything, and no matter what he did or what he pined for, he managed to get what he wanted. Perhaps, deep down, beneath the layers of countless ruthless memories, he'd been waiting for it to happen all along. He'd been waiting to lose it all.

Perfection and a high status could only get you so far. They could get you an important job, and they could get you women. Shouldn't it seem compulsory for it to also include a given happiness? The whole world could've been wrapped around his finger, if he truly pushed himself. If he cared anymore.

Despite all he had, he risked it all, day by day. He took it all for granted, not caring, not bothering, and knowing he would escape retribution. Draco Malfoy needn't to be told he was wasting his life. He had everything, and he couldn't seem to understand why he was miserable. No, even all the drugs, alcohol and women couldn't take away his ache for something unknown. The meaningless words of approval from teachers and parents, the lustful looks from females all around him, they didn't mean a thing.

-x-

He watched lazily and apathetically as the party around him was in full motion. With a glass of fire whiskey in one hand, he slumped in the deep emerald chair that sat before the glowing fire. A pair of thin hands laced around his empty palm. Draco's head barely lifted to see who they belonged to. Pansy Parkinson tugged a bit on his arm, giving him a smirk that clearly stated where they were going, and why.

"I'm not in the mood, Pansy," he muttered, wrenching his hand from her bony fingers.

She let out an exhausted sigh, and rolled her eyes. "Fine, get drunk first."

"Even if I was drunk, I wouldn't sleep with you."

Pansy sneered down at him as she began to turn away. And in a teasing, slightly slurring voice, she chuckled, "If I had a galleon for every time you've claimed that..."

They both knew she'd be a very wealthy woman if that was true. It wasn't that Pansy was his greatest desire, or his most lusted object; she was always ready for a quick one, and would never deny him. He felt nothing for her, a severe neutrality.

Draco finished off the drink in his hand before rising. He expertly weaved his way through the crowd, and left the Slytherin common room. Just as the stone passageway closed behind him, the silence enveloped him rather than the deafening music that some sixth year had set up. He hunched his shoulders as he dug his hands deep into his pants pockets. His footsteps were the only noise that met his ears as he traveled up from the Slytherin dungeon.

As he came near the great doors to the outside grounds, a group of Ravenclaw fifth years abruptly came around a corner, full of laughter and talk. Draco silently rolled his eyes towards their childishness, as he saw it to be. He carried on his way outdoors where the sun had almost vanished. The temperature had to be dropping even more, considering it was the raw month of January.

He hid himself behind the enormous tree that was on the other side of the lake. His pale hands searched through pockets and pockets until he came upon his lighter and a cigarette. It was his worst habit of all to name, he thought. But with a few spells, all the evidence could be vanished. Draco flicked the end of the lighter till the flame came up to light the cigarette. He took a deep breath, smelling the stench, feeling his anxiety melt just a bit.

Draco slanted his slim, muscular frame to balance on the wide trunk. A bitter wind whistled and cut its way through the air. Of the few regrets he would ever admit to, not bring a jacket on that very day was one of them. But as it calmed down, he could feel the heat of the cigarette in his hand once more. It was silent all around him, most students indoors, or had snuck into Hogsmeade on the harsh Friday night. He could hardly believe that his seventh year, his final year, could be this dreary. In fact, he could've blamed it on stupid Pothead if he wanted, really, finally killing Voldemort in the previous summer.

He couldn't help but to chuckle at his nickname for the wondrous and famous Harry Potter. Draco knew the boy was too innocent, too scared, to touch more than a glass or two of fire whiskey. Not only that, but he needn't be told that Potter was virgin, and he probably didn't do drugs. It was those reasons that the nickname "Pothead" brought an impious smirk to his face. Like many things, Draco would never admit he was jealous even in the most diminutive way possible of stupid Scarhead.

But in the back of his head, where the real human part of him resided, caged and ignored, he was envious. Harry Potter had nothing, and yet, people loved him. He was loved, and he knew how to love. Draco, on the other hand, pushed the cold-blooded memoirs of his childhood far away from himself. He couldn't be reminded of the little helpless boy and the insane, mangled look in his father's eyes. To date, it was the only thing that truly frightened Draco Malfoy. He closed his eyes, the cigarette now dangling from his mouth, and if he wanted to, he could've brought himself back to that memory. But he wouldn't, because a Malfoy didn't have fears or weaknesses. They learned from the few mistakes they were allowed, and immediately learned to never repeat it.

The sun was gone now, leaving him to see his way through the shadows. He stamped out the nearly gone cigarette before straightening his posture and his shirt. Draco scowled as he looked up at the looming castle ahead. He slid his hands in his pockets again before heading down to the Slytherin common room, sure to take Pansy Parkinson up on what she had cheaply offered before.