Disclaimer: Are these really even necessary or is it just something people do and we keep doing without knowing why? I don't own Harry Potter.
Day 19: Victory
Downstairs, a door opens and a wave of laughter and triumphant voices carries up the stairs. It reaches the green and silver draped bedroom where a seventeen-year-old boy sits on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. He lifts his head at the sound, and tries to smile and share in the triumph, but the expression comes out twisted and he looks more like he's about to be sick. He knows what they are celebrating, what victory causes the glee he can almost feel pressing against his skin – and yet not filling him. They've just come back from torturing and killing some defenseless Muggles, no doubt.
Draco Malfoy tells himself he should be pleased as well. Muggles are worthless; they're filthy, disgusting pigs; the less of them there are the better. So why do the gloating voices make him feel ill? Why does the thought of what they've done make him want to scream?
Footsteps are coming up the stairs now. Draco looks over as there is a knock on his door. "Draco?" a voice calls.
Draco schools his face into a neutral expression, "Come in, Mother."
Narcissa Malfoy opens the door and steps inside, "Supper will be on the table in a moment, why don't you come on down?"
"Actually, Mother..." Draco pauses, "I'm feeling a bit under the weather tonight. I think I'll turn in early."
Narcissa studies her son with a look of concern on her face, "You do look very pale. I'll have some soup sent up for you. Is there anything else I can get you?"
Draco shakes his head, "Thank you, Mother."
Narcissa leaves and Draco breathes a sigh of relief. At least for tonight, he won't have to pretend to share in the victory celebration going on downstairs.
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