A/N: (thanks for the review!)
Unfeeling and alone, Draco Malfoy strode down the platform, crowds parting, despite the lack of his usual cronies. His mind whirling at recent events, Draco paid them no mind, And turned abruptly to climb the steps onto the train. Slumping into an empty compartment, his face altered, contorting from the adult, indecipherable expression that he was used to, to that of a confused, lonely sixteen year old, whose life has been forever changed.
His whole life, he had been preached to about how almighty the Dark Lord was, and how he would someday rise again, stronger then ever. It was all too easy to say that when the great git was dead. Malfoy, personally, never really believed that the. thing would come back. As much as he hated to admit it, he actually had faith that stupid Potter would prevent that from happening, like he always did. Draco had never actually given a second thought to his future. Just like his father, he would inherit the family fortune, and be a huge, public figure that never really did anything. Not a whole lot to think about.
Now, everything was different. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned, and Draco was expected to go out, and kill. His father always taught him not to show emotions, or aversions to anything, but Draco never could stomach the screams that emanated from the sitting room when he was young. He used to curl up in his blanket until it stopped, and then pretend it didn't bother him. This hardened young man hated heartless shell that was his father, and that was why he had turned down his future. Refused to be a Death Eater.
*****
Hermione Granger sat in a listless silence, only barely listening to the banter between her two best friends. She hadn't slept well the night before, that was for sure. She had had a dream, but she couldn't remember what had been so clear when she woke up. It had been sad, but that was about all she could get out of it.
" Hermione, I'm afraid you've failed all of your exams." Harry stated in his most calm, professor-like voice. Immediately, Hermione was alert.
"Bloody Hell!" slipped from the mouth beneath her wide-open eyes. Looking around, she remembered where she was, and promptly clipped Harry on the shoulder with her fist. "Guys! Don't do that!"
"Well, you were pretty out of it," Ron responded, "It's the only thing that's worked before!"
"Well, just don't do that! I was only thinking. I can't remember the dream I had last night, and it's been bugging me." Understatement! She'd been out of it and depressed ever since she woke up! She knew it wasn't lack of sleep, because she had slept almost exactly nine hours, as she did every night. This dream simply didn't feel normal. She felt cold, somehow empty, and she couldn't remember one bit of why.
"Well, we're at school now, so shrug it off." Ron said, with his normal amount of tact and refinement.
"Thank you, Monsieur Weasely, we all appreciate your graceful conversation skills." She teased gently, trying to slip back into her normal self. Brushing her glossy curls away from her face, Hermione stood, gathering her slumbering cat onto her shoulder.
Making her way down the corridor, caught up in the stream of students, Hermione halted unexpectedly as a boy clad in swirling, stone grey robes slid out of the compartment in front of her. She met his cold, unfeeling eyes, and a shiver journeyed down her spine. Her mouth opened, about to ask him what was wrong, but her archenemy turned on his heel and stalked down the passage before her.
******
As Draco crept out of him compartment, he was unable to feel anything other then cold. Every part of his body and soul seemed to be encased in ice, shutting him off from the rest of humanity. Emerging into the flow of his peers, he caught momentary eye contact with the feminine representation of those he hated. He would never do anything for any of them, and expected the same courtesy in return. For some reason, though, in the half-second during which he peered into her eyes, he could find no malice. Only concern. Before he pondered on this subject too long, he turned to leave, reminding himself to close his heart, which had been unknowingly punctured by the warmth in Hermione Granger's eyes.
He looked up, as he disembarked the train, his eyes stinging as they made contact with the rainwater streaming over him. His long eyelashes dripping, he boarded a carriage occupied only by a giggling group of third years, sighed and resigned himself to a corner, lost in his own thoughts. The carriage jolted forward, carrying him to the school he had once loved. Now, he saw only pointless misery behind those great, stone, walls.
A/N: Review!!!! Because, when people review, I feel happy, and when I feel happy, I do happy things, like writing! Yay! I feel the need to continue writing . . . My friend's Ex is a poopy-head! Now I feel better! Again, review!
Unfeeling and alone, Draco Malfoy strode down the platform, crowds parting, despite the lack of his usual cronies. His mind whirling at recent events, Draco paid them no mind, And turned abruptly to climb the steps onto the train. Slumping into an empty compartment, his face altered, contorting from the adult, indecipherable expression that he was used to, to that of a confused, lonely sixteen year old, whose life has been forever changed.
His whole life, he had been preached to about how almighty the Dark Lord was, and how he would someday rise again, stronger then ever. It was all too easy to say that when the great git was dead. Malfoy, personally, never really believed that the. thing would come back. As much as he hated to admit it, he actually had faith that stupid Potter would prevent that from happening, like he always did. Draco had never actually given a second thought to his future. Just like his father, he would inherit the family fortune, and be a huge, public figure that never really did anything. Not a whole lot to think about.
Now, everything was different. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned, and Draco was expected to go out, and kill. His father always taught him not to show emotions, or aversions to anything, but Draco never could stomach the screams that emanated from the sitting room when he was young. He used to curl up in his blanket until it stopped, and then pretend it didn't bother him. This hardened young man hated heartless shell that was his father, and that was why he had turned down his future. Refused to be a Death Eater.
*****
Hermione Granger sat in a listless silence, only barely listening to the banter between her two best friends. She hadn't slept well the night before, that was for sure. She had had a dream, but she couldn't remember what had been so clear when she woke up. It had been sad, but that was about all she could get out of it.
" Hermione, I'm afraid you've failed all of your exams." Harry stated in his most calm, professor-like voice. Immediately, Hermione was alert.
"Bloody Hell!" slipped from the mouth beneath her wide-open eyes. Looking around, she remembered where she was, and promptly clipped Harry on the shoulder with her fist. "Guys! Don't do that!"
"Well, you were pretty out of it," Ron responded, "It's the only thing that's worked before!"
"Well, just don't do that! I was only thinking. I can't remember the dream I had last night, and it's been bugging me." Understatement! She'd been out of it and depressed ever since she woke up! She knew it wasn't lack of sleep, because she had slept almost exactly nine hours, as she did every night. This dream simply didn't feel normal. She felt cold, somehow empty, and she couldn't remember one bit of why.
"Well, we're at school now, so shrug it off." Ron said, with his normal amount of tact and refinement.
"Thank you, Monsieur Weasely, we all appreciate your graceful conversation skills." She teased gently, trying to slip back into her normal self. Brushing her glossy curls away from her face, Hermione stood, gathering her slumbering cat onto her shoulder.
Making her way down the corridor, caught up in the stream of students, Hermione halted unexpectedly as a boy clad in swirling, stone grey robes slid out of the compartment in front of her. She met his cold, unfeeling eyes, and a shiver journeyed down her spine. Her mouth opened, about to ask him what was wrong, but her archenemy turned on his heel and stalked down the passage before her.
******
As Draco crept out of him compartment, he was unable to feel anything other then cold. Every part of his body and soul seemed to be encased in ice, shutting him off from the rest of humanity. Emerging into the flow of his peers, he caught momentary eye contact with the feminine representation of those he hated. He would never do anything for any of them, and expected the same courtesy in return. For some reason, though, in the half-second during which he peered into her eyes, he could find no malice. Only concern. Before he pondered on this subject too long, he turned to leave, reminding himself to close his heart, which had been unknowingly punctured by the warmth in Hermione Granger's eyes.
He looked up, as he disembarked the train, his eyes stinging as they made contact with the rainwater streaming over him. His long eyelashes dripping, he boarded a carriage occupied only by a giggling group of third years, sighed and resigned himself to a corner, lost in his own thoughts. The carriage jolted forward, carrying him to the school he had once loved. Now, he saw only pointless misery behind those great, stone, walls.
A/N: Review!!!! Because, when people review, I feel happy, and when I feel happy, I do happy things, like writing! Yay! I feel the need to continue writing . . . My friend's Ex is a poopy-head! Now I feel better! Again, review!