Draco stared into the mirror. He didn't pull a smile like normal people did, nor strike a pose or a vain flick of the hair; he simply stared. As per usual, there wasn't any expression; well, the normal smug frown seemed to have tattooed itself onto Malfoys image remained there. He looked hard at himself; somehow, he found his reflection haunting. Draco moved closer and closer to the glass, so his nose lightly touched the surface and his breath steamed up the reflection.
Draco was a monster and he knew it. Everything about him was betraying, deceitful, cruel, and dishonest. Every little detail about him portrayed that… including his image. Draco looked down at the floor, away from the mirror.
He was having another one of his bad days. Draco had his good days and his bad days; his good days were those of trouble and some sort of devious scheme going ahead (and preferably succeeding)
And his bad days… well, Draco could hardly explain them. They were complicated; they seemed to make an alarming amount of sense… yet they were against everything that
Draco stood for. He felt a solemn sort of confusion. He felt strangely alone, and wrong- and most of all; He Hated himself.
Draco could almost tell whether his day would be good or bad from the moment he rose from his sleep- his bad days he felt guilt and this solemn emptiness stinging him. And his good days… Draco felt nothing
Draco lashed his hand up from his side and slapped the mirror violently off the wall- it went roaring to the fall and shattered into thousands of pieces. Draco flicked a loose bit of ash blonde hair off his face and went storming out of the drawing room- a house elf creeping in silently to clean the shattered mirror.
Draco flung open the door of the study and walked over to the oak desk. Draco was at home- in the Malfoy Mansion if you must- alone. His parents had gone away for a couple of days and left Draco to inhabit the house alone. Draco hardly cared- he saw it as a weight off his shoulders more than anything. His father was tiresome and his mother he found irritating, so he was happier to be by himself. Draco pulled the draw open and rummaged underneath piles of papers until a silver case was clutched on his fist. He slammed it upon the desk and opened it and took out a cigarette. He lit it with a lighter from his trouser pocket and began to smoke. He stalked over to the grand window looking over to the grounds and stared blankly out of it. The grounds stretched for miles and they were all beautiful. Deep red leaved trees, emerald green grass and the cold British weather seemed to sting it with early morning dew making it glisten. Draco could feel himself falling into deep thought and for a change, he allowed himself into his own little escape…
He could see a her again; as perfect as the last day he saw her, her hair so perfectly curled into loose tendrils and her eyes blue, and lightly fluttering as she blinked and her lips so perfect with the most beautiful, soft English accent flowing from her mouth at every syllable. Her gentle smell of Lavender as she swept airlessly past him, without her even noticing him as she walked effortlessly with such grace and elegance it took his breath away. How he wished she had turned around and embraced him just like…
"D-d-draco… S-sir M-Malfoy sir, when shall we present you with your l-lunch?" stammered a House elf, awaking Malfoy from his daydream. Draco flung the finishing cigarette to the ground and stamped upon it in the most violent manner, and retorted
"I do not wish to have Lunch- I would have asked you if I wanted Lunch you meaningless thing you. Now get out of my site!" The House Elf jumped slightly, shrieked and scuffled off down the stairs back down to the Kitchen. Malfoy sighed heartily and impatiently and swept out of the Study.