A/N: This is a kind of intro, it should hopefully get more exciting! I hope u enjoy:)
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.
Draco Malfoy stood in the dark beside the Black Lake. He stared into its murky depths, absentmindedly wondering how his life had managed to stumble this far. He'd managed to get back into Hogwarts after the war to do a 7th year, despite his betrayal. A lot of that was down his mother's suicide. With Lucius in Azkaban for the foreseeable future, he'd really had nowhere else to go. Draco's heart clenched at the memory of his mother. He'd gone out, and come back to find her nowhere to be found, until finally he looked in her bathroom. She had looked so peaceful, lying in the bath with a small smile of her face. It would've been a happy picture had the bath water not been cloudy red from the gashes on her wrists, and the dagger still lightly grasped in her hand.
The grass Draco had been staring at started to blur, and he furiously blinking back tears, clenching his fists and digging his nails into his palms. Malfoy's do not cry, a voice in the back of his head whispered. He let out a breath he'd forgotten he was holding, watching the smoke fall out of his mouth and disappear into the sky. Closing his eyes, he lifted his hand and took a last drag of the smoldering cigarette. Draco enjoyed smoking. He knew of the dangers of it; the cancer, disease, blah blah. He knew that if he kept it up it would probably kill him. But he figured it didn't really matter when you had nothing to live for anyway. And either way, frankly, he couldn't bring himself to care.
Light had started to creep out from behind the clouds, and somewhere in the distance birds had started chirping. A small smile fell on the Malfoy's face, and he sat himself down on the grass to wait for the sunrise. It was only 6am, he still had another good two hours until he had to return to the castle and think about people, or classes, or the world.
Without thinking, Draco slipped a pale hand into his pocket and brought out his lighter, admiring it in the soft morning light. It was a solid silver Zippo, with a curling dragon on it's side. He stroked the dragon fondly, and it blinked sleepily at him, winding itself all the way around the lighter. From his other pocket he removed a yellow packet, and drew out another cigarette. The dragon curled tighter as he lit it and inhaled, feeling the smooth smoke roll over his tongue and linger deep in his lungs before letting it out. So far, today didn't seem too bad.
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Potions. The first lesson of the day, with the one and only Professor Snape. And of course, Harry was late, having overslept again. Just great. He half ran down the corridor, slowing to a walk and taking a few breaths before entering the classroom.
"Potter." Snape scowled. "You are ten minutes late to my lesson."
"Sorry Sir, I-" Harry started, cogs whirling to try and formulate some reason as to why he was late.
"I don't care for your excuses. You will have to take the last available seat, next to Mr Malfoy."
Harry groaned internally. Having to sit next to Malfoy for a whole year? Snape really did hate him. Grudgingly he pulled out the seat beside Malfoy's hunched figure and plonked himself down onto it, waiting for a sarcastic remark of some kind. He waited for a while, before realizing that there wasn't one coming. In fact, whilst Snape droned on and on about all sorts of herbs and the multiple uses of horn of bicorn, all Harry could focus on was how quiet Malfoy was. He'd completely lost his arrogant presence and his face was pale as ever, but he wore no Malfoy smirk. But the most prominent change in Malfoy was that the blonde absolutely reeked of a scent that Harry for years had associated only with his Uncle Vernon - cigarette smoke. His nose wrinkled. Did Malfoy smoke? He couldn't imagine Malfoy smoking. The idea of Malfoy practicing a mostly Muggle habit was just too strange. Harry decided he would confront him about it after class.
Harry was brought back to reality by Snape, but for once it was not him that was getting the wrath of the potions teacher.
"Mr Malfoy." Snape repeated for what looked like the 4th or 5th time, if the irritation on his face was anything to go by. "Mr Malfoy for the love of-"
"Huh?" Draco seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in. "Yes, Professor Snape?"
"So gad you could rejoin us," Snape snapped. "See me at the end of the lesson for that. Can you tell me what I'm referring to when I say taraxacum officinale?"
"Uhh.." Malfoy's face went blank. "Oh.. dandelion root?"
"Lucky guess. You can do better." The potions teacher sighed. "But yes, taraxacum officinale is dandelion root.." Harry zoned out again, this time wondering if Hermione would let him copy her notes for the third time this week.
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The bell signalling the end of potions finally went, and Draco quickly shoved his books into his bag, hoping to slip out before Snape realised he was gone, but he had no such luck.
"Don't even think about it, Draco." As the last student left, Snape shut the door promptly behind them.
"Now, please explain to me, why there is a pungent stench of fag smoke emanating from you."
Draco's hand fiddled with the cigarette packet in his pocket. He hadn't been able to resist the temptation of another one before heading to class, and now realised that he'd forgotten to cast the deodorizing spell. Idiot!
"Draco, you told me you had stopped."
"I have stopped," Draco muttered towards his godfather. "I just.. I just walked past a group of smokers."
"Ah, of course you did. Empty your pockets."
"What?" He slipped his sleeve over his precious cigarettes, pulling them under cover against his wrist.
"Pockets. On the table. Now."
Begrudgingly, Draco took out his Zippo, along with a packet of filters, and put them on the table. "That's everything."
"Oh really? Then what are you hiding up your sleeve?"
Scowling in defeat, the Malfoy slowly drew out the packet and placed it next to the lighter. "There. Are you happy now?"
Snape sighed. "Do I need to remind you of the health risks, Draco? This is so stupid, I really considered you more intelligent."
The Malfoy laughed hollowly. "Do I need to remind you that I don't care? You have my fags, that's what you wanted right? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to be late for Herbology."
Grabbing his bag, Draco turned and swung the door open and stormed out - only to crash straight into the one and only Harry flipping Potter.
"Potter, what the fuck? Were you eavesdropping?"
"Malfoy! No, I was going to.. Ah.. Well I did overhear.." Harry adjusted his glasses on his face. "I was waiting to talk to you about something, but it doesn't matter anymore."
Draco rolled his eyes. Potter had been sat next to him for the whole potions lesson, of course he would have smelt it.
"Yes, I smoke, Potter. Woop de do. Now sod off." And with that, Draco whirled around and stalked in the direction of Herbology.
Harry blinked, looking at Malfoy's disappearing figure. What had happened to that quiet Malfoy he'd seen in Potions? And now that he knew Malfoy definitely was a smoker, he was left to wonder why.