He's hated by most, and envied by many. And who can blame them? He seems
perfect, in a Slytherin way. He's intelligent for a sixteen-year-old, yet
he still manages to remain fairly street smart. He loves to degrade people,
yet remains rather good-looking when he does it. He's sly and cunning;
constantly doing things that most people would be able to get away with,
yet he does. You know him. You love him. You hate him. Simple as that.
Draco Lucifer Malfoy
The clocks in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had just struck nine. Draco Malfoy, who was spread out oh-so-dramatically across one of the many plush green couches of the Slytherin Common Room, yawned in a rather bored fashion as his gray orbs stared blankly at the ceiling. Nothing. No emotion showing, no expression, no nothing. Of course, you couldn't exactly blame him. There wasn't much to be emotional about. The Common Room was surprisingly empty, and only the soft murmur of Adrian Pucey discussing something with Jesse Bole could be heard over the soft fire that they had set going in the rarely used fire place.
Winter had finally come. Draco's favorite season. He, however, didn't enjoy it for the normal reasons. He didn't like the flakes that tickled your nose, or seeing the annoyingly cheery people with pink cheeks and noses. No. He enjoyed winter because of its coldness and its dark. He liked how plain winter was. He liked actually being able to hear himself think as he crunched softly through the snow, his breath coming out in little white puffs in front of him. It was quite an improvement from the spring, where girls could be heard giggling just about everywhere. Or summer, where the splashing and yelling from the lake was almost unbearable. Fall was all right, but not as quiet as the winter. People would often crunch nosily through the bright leaves, gossiping loudly as they went along. Ugh.
Merely thinking about it made Draco yearn to feel the bitter cold closing in about him, the powdery white substance that became slightly icy at night crunching underneath his petite body. The epitome of perfection. He sighed quietly, blinking once before standing up in one graceful movement from the couch. He grabbed his cloak and Slytherin scarf without a word and exited the Slytherin Common Room with a smirk on his face. Draco Malfoy did what he wanted, when he wanted, and right now, Draco wanted to be outside. He wrapped his cloak around him and fastened it, then draped his scarf around his neck as he made his way through the corridors. Draco smirked slightly as he reached the great oak doors and gently pushed one open with one elegant, pale hand. Seeing as it was Saturday, the students didn't have to be out of the corridors or off the grounds by eleven. That didn't really matter to Draco, anyway. He would've gone outside even if it had been past curfew.
A rush that could be only described as happiness went through Draco's veins as he stepped outside. Perfect. Nobody dared go out in the harsh winter weather, so he was the only one out. The lights that were on the castle didn't stretch through all of the darkness, but they did go a good way, and were causing the snow to sparkle and look amazingly white. The sky was a navy blue blanket, dotted occasionally with silver sequins. The moon shone behind a thin wisp of cloud. And the cold was just as Draco liked it.Freshly cold, was the only way he could think of to describe it. It hurt to take a deep breath through your nose, and his hands were cold, seeing as he had forgotten his gloves. It was positively perfect.
He quickly descended the steps from the castle almost silently, white-blond hair flopping over his brow as he did so. The Slytherin boy grimaced as his foot broke through the slightly icy snow and caused a crunch. That one step seemed to shatter everything; the perfection of the night as well as his slightly somber mood. His face, once again, became blank as he began his nine fifteen stroll across the grounds of Hogwarts.
Draco Lucifer Malfoy
The clocks in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had just struck nine. Draco Malfoy, who was spread out oh-so-dramatically across one of the many plush green couches of the Slytherin Common Room, yawned in a rather bored fashion as his gray orbs stared blankly at the ceiling. Nothing. No emotion showing, no expression, no nothing. Of course, you couldn't exactly blame him. There wasn't much to be emotional about. The Common Room was surprisingly empty, and only the soft murmur of Adrian Pucey discussing something with Jesse Bole could be heard over the soft fire that they had set going in the rarely used fire place.
Winter had finally come. Draco's favorite season. He, however, didn't enjoy it for the normal reasons. He didn't like the flakes that tickled your nose, or seeing the annoyingly cheery people with pink cheeks and noses. No. He enjoyed winter because of its coldness and its dark. He liked how plain winter was. He liked actually being able to hear himself think as he crunched softly through the snow, his breath coming out in little white puffs in front of him. It was quite an improvement from the spring, where girls could be heard giggling just about everywhere. Or summer, where the splashing and yelling from the lake was almost unbearable. Fall was all right, but not as quiet as the winter. People would often crunch nosily through the bright leaves, gossiping loudly as they went along. Ugh.
Merely thinking about it made Draco yearn to feel the bitter cold closing in about him, the powdery white substance that became slightly icy at night crunching underneath his petite body. The epitome of perfection. He sighed quietly, blinking once before standing up in one graceful movement from the couch. He grabbed his cloak and Slytherin scarf without a word and exited the Slytherin Common Room with a smirk on his face. Draco Malfoy did what he wanted, when he wanted, and right now, Draco wanted to be outside. He wrapped his cloak around him and fastened it, then draped his scarf around his neck as he made his way through the corridors. Draco smirked slightly as he reached the great oak doors and gently pushed one open with one elegant, pale hand. Seeing as it was Saturday, the students didn't have to be out of the corridors or off the grounds by eleven. That didn't really matter to Draco, anyway. He would've gone outside even if it had been past curfew.
A rush that could be only described as happiness went through Draco's veins as he stepped outside. Perfect. Nobody dared go out in the harsh winter weather, so he was the only one out. The lights that were on the castle didn't stretch through all of the darkness, but they did go a good way, and were causing the snow to sparkle and look amazingly white. The sky was a navy blue blanket, dotted occasionally with silver sequins. The moon shone behind a thin wisp of cloud. And the cold was just as Draco liked it.Freshly cold, was the only way he could think of to describe it. It hurt to take a deep breath through your nose, and his hands were cold, seeing as he had forgotten his gloves. It was positively perfect.
He quickly descended the steps from the castle almost silently, white-blond hair flopping over his brow as he did so. The Slytherin boy grimaced as his foot broke through the slightly icy snow and caused a crunch. That one step seemed to shatter everything; the perfection of the night as well as his slightly somber mood. His face, once again, became blank as he began his nine fifteen stroll across the grounds of Hogwarts.