The day was unusual; utterly stunning to the point that it earned more than a casual "oh, isn't it lovely out?" from nannies in the park, but rather made grown men want to belt out the chorus from "Zip-a-dee-doo-dah". Anything could happen on this bright winter's day. Today held a promise-a promise that boded well for all who enjoyed the clear blue skies and merrily tweeting birds. Or so it would seem.
Indeed, it not appear so to a young man with platinum blonde hair and steel grey eyes. He was a looker, no question. Armed with a strong jaw line, and a perpetual smirk, he was a deadly weapon against the females of the world. A huddled group of gossiping girls become silent as he strode past, nursing their wounded pride as he walked away without giving them so much as a passing glace.
Foolish muggles, Malfoy thought to himself, rolling his eyes, knowing full well that their chorus of sighs was targeted at him. As if.
The pure-blood supremacist made his way back home to his manor as the holiday season was drawing to a close. Letting the massive double doors close with a great slam as he made his way up the great stair case, he proceeded to his room.
After exerting just enough care and strength to close the door, he collapsed on the massive bed and let his thoughts wash over him.
"Ugh, another one of mother and father's ever-so-important parties tonight," He said aloud. He didn't worry about anyone hearing him. His parents were too involved in their own lives, which centered on keeping up their appearances; they couldn't be bothered to check in on their own son, unless it was to see if he was dressed and ready to come down so they could parade him around to ministry officials.
"If I have to tell anyone how much 'I just love Hogwarts' I'm going to cruciatas myself…" Draco didn't need another reminder that school was where he'd rather be. Having to talk about Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts at a social dinner was rubbing his face in the fact that he was so close, yet so far to the place he truly wanted to be. "Just a few more days until this bloody break is over."
And with that he rolled over, and willed himself to sleep, clothes on and all.
Several hours, and many hard knocks on his bedroom door later, Draco woke up. To both his satisfaction and displeasure, he found he had a throbbing headache. "Ow!" he said, massaging his temples, but maybe I won't have to attend that god forsaken party…
The rasps on the door continued, now accompanied with an incessant "Draco, Draco!" from his mother.
"Come in!" he shouted, falling back onto his bed.
The door opened and in sauntered Narcissa Malfoy. Her usually grim features were not aided by a solid line of mouth from finding her son frittering time away in bed, instead of being a perfectly dressed, ready-to-impress heir.
"Draco!" she nearly shrieked, "The party's in less than an hour! Why in Merlin's name aren't you ready? Get up!"
"Mother would you quit squawking at me?" Draco snapped. "I have a headache!" He rolled over onto his stomach, hoping that if he buried his face from his tormentors of light and a fretful mum, they would in fact cease to exist.
Next thing he knew, his pillow flew out from under his face, and across the room.
An "urf" of pain escaped his throat as his forehead hit the hard oak headboard. "Honestly mum, you won't knock a headache out of me. At least not without replacing it with a genuine bruise." After a moment he added, "And what a good show for company that'd make."
His mother withdrew a long wand again from her dark robes. A quick mutter and flick of her wrist later, all pain from Draco's head was gone.
"Thanks," he mumbled.
"Now do get dressed and ready. We can't have you miss another party. Need I remind you the embarrassment your father and I suffered last time when you snuck out?"
"That won't be necessary," he said perfunctorily, rolling off the bed. When he stood up, he was noticeably taller than his mother, but that didn't stop her, or his father from making him feel barely an inch off the ground. "Are we through?" he shot over his shoulder as he moved towards the wardrobe.
"Just be down in half an hour," Narcissa replied. It was remarkably similar to the snarl of a hungry wolf.
With an exasperated sigh, Draco pulled some nice clothes out of his wardrobe and laid them on his bed. He went into his bathroom, peeled off his day clothes, and stepped into the shower. He turned the faucet on at random, not caring whether the water scalded or froze him as he let the water pour over him. His head resting against the cold, tiled wall, he nearly wished himself to be washed down the drain too. He was absolutely beat.
Dressed, and as mentally geared up as he could get himself, Draco headed downstairs. He stopped to peer over the banister and survey the battlefield he was about to enter.
Death eaters mostly, Draco observed. His smirk lost some of its smugness. But enough ministry minions and other people of high society not in the Dark Lord's inner circle that they all have to behave. The youngest Malfoy feigned some swag to put back into his step as he came down the rest of the steps to join the frivolities of the evening. He was barely off the bottom step when some ministry man he might've recognized if he cocked his head to the side and squinted gave him a thunderous slap on the back.
"Draco m'boy! My have you grown! You were little more than egg the last time I saw you!" Chummy ministry man, laughed heartily at his own joke. Draco's mouth turned up in the right corner to hint at a smile, but his eyes screamed what he was thinking, Get this madman away from me and the punch!
"So then," the man continued, oblivious to the fact that his attentions were completely unwanted, "how's school going?"
Merlin's beard! I can't escape the bloody question for five minutes. "Oh, just great. Can't wait to get back," the cornered prey responded dryly as he searched frantically for a way out.
"Ah, studious are you? Good to hear. Don't be too serious 'bout your school work though. Got to get your social in too. Handsome lad like you, I bet there are a few witches about who have their eye on you. Ah, I remember the trail of witches I left in my wake…" Draco rolled his eyes and tried to keep from scoffing as the man prattled on. "But balance, m'dear boy. Balance is key! It's all about balance. Can't do anything without balance. If you didn't have balance, you'd be stuck smack on the floor, wouldn't you?"
If Draco hadn't already been certain the man was drunk, the copious number of times he had just said the word "balance" confirmed it.
Seeing his need, Aunt Bellatrix swooped in. "Ah, Menthross, it's been ages. Have you tried the cheese straws?" She asked, leading him away from the tall blonde, thanking her desperately with his eyes.
One minute of this party and I'm already dead sick of it. Eyeing the rest of the attendees with contempt, he snuck out to the courtyard with the silence and stealth of a shadow.
The party carried on, no one ever batting an eyelash at the crack off in the distance.