Disclaimer: Potterverse belongs to JK Rowling, of course. I only own the plot.
of snakes and angels
The name on the pristine white envelope stood out bold, almost defiantly staring back at him. Listlessly picking it off the table, he couldn't resist rolling his eyes upon seeing his name. Draco Angelus Malfoy. Whatever were his parents thinking when they named him .. after a snake and angel? Granted they just took their ancestors' names just to give him something to call but the outcome was nothing short of making him sound like a walking paradox.
Draco flipped the letter between his fingers carelessly, though uninterested in knowing it's contents. He continued making his way into the house and up the sweeping staircase into his room. Upon reaching it, he promptly tossed the letter upon the floor and flung himself onto his bed, exhausted in more ways than one. The lean blond boy stared upwards at the heavily decorated ceiling, a mixture of feelings arising from within.
'I hate this place' he thought after glaring at the intricate designs longer than intended. His hatred however wasn't a new feeling. He'd always hated the way his life turned out. After all, living the way he did wasn't exactly anyone's idea of paradise. Sure, his parents were rich, feared and influential, which rubbed off on him. In school, he had the power to intimidate and the power of money to sail him through quite easily. Yet to this boy, there was always something wrong. Something he sorely yearned but will never admit to wanting it.
He wanted to be loved. Love that he had never gotten from his parents. His father, Lucius Malfoy had been a rampant supporter of Voldemort and a highly influential member of his malicious Death Eaters. This however, the authorities finally put a stop to him no thanks to a certain Harry Potter which explained why he was no longer living and breathing in the very house he raised his only son in. Narcissa Malfoy, wife of Lucius was equally disturbing. A beautiful, spoilt socialite, she spent her time attending high tea and dinner parties fraternising with other females such as herself. Now that Lucius was locked up in a high-security cell in Azkaban, it was a rare occasion if Draco as much as caught a whiff of her perfume at home. It would be quite a surprise if she ever came home one day and asked how her son's day went. She never did.
Draco sighed and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows, randomly wondering when all the hatred was going to end. It was bad enough he had to come home to an empty, cold, unwelcoming house that summer but knowing the fact that he would soon once again be going to school with people like Harry Potter was enough to make his blood boil. 'So what if he killed Voldemort? So what if he's the bloody boy-who-lived? He's just a whiny puny punk who doesn't deserve all that damned attention he gets.'
A shudder rippled through underneath his skin as he involuntarily remembered what happened before summer. Voldemort had gotten strong enough to finally assemble an army and construct an all-out war against Harry, Dumbledore and everything that stood in the way. Every single living Death Eater still loyal to him were broken out of Azkaban once again. It didn't help that even Muggles had noticed the alarming increase in riots, chaos, accidents and death. It seemed that the intoxicating power of evil emanating from the very core of Voldemort had seeped through to magical and non-magical folks alike, causing mass panic all over the world.
This would have been entertaining for Draco had it not been for the sudden change in him, though subtle. He couldn't explain what exactly made him refuse Voldemort's demand for him to join his father in the ranks of Death Eaters and true, he almost did become one. After seeing his father kill 30 people with one powerful curse there was without question being a Death Eater wasn't in his destiny. He may be cruel but murder was just something he would never do.
And so he ran to the very last person he would ever dream of seeking security: Dumbledore. Until now, he wasn't sure what made him do it but he was not complaining. After all, he's still alive, isn't he? Draco's heart contracted slightly at this thought. He might still be alive, but many of his so-called -'friends' weren't. Being Slytherins and having Death Eaters for parents had blinded them into thinking Voldemort was all-knowing, all-powerful and right. How wrong they were.
Sighing softly, Draco hoisted his slender yet slightly muscular frame off his bed and reached for the tossed letter on the floor. Grabbing a silver letter opener, engraved with his initials underneath a carving of two coiled snakes, he ripped open the letter and shook out it's contents. A chink of metal rolled out onto his bedsheets, the sunlight streaming through the window dancing merrily upon it's shiny surface. His eyebrows raised alarmingly high to the point of disappearing behind his long golden bangs.
He blinked, thinking it must've been a mistake.. but no. Head Boy. Him. Draco Malfoy. The new Head Boy. It shouldn'tve been such a shock to him since he'd been coveting the title of Head Boy ever since he was made a prefect in his fifth year. Now that he was entering his seventh and last year at Hogwarts, he should have known that badge was coming. But yet he had been too preoccupied with other matters on his mind, what with his father imprisoned in Azkaban and unwillingly witnessing the gruesome final battle between Harry and Voldemort in which the latter was finally banished into nothingness just a few weeks before summer began ... being titled Head Boy now just seemed so trivial.
A soft sigh escaped his lips as he stared at the badge in his fingers. It suddenly dawned on him that he didn't want to be Head Boy anymore. It all seemed so unimportant now. He realised that he didn't care for power now that Voldemort was dead and his father gone. What was the use? There was no one to control him now, no more Voldemort-controlled Lucius to make a hate puppet out of him anymore. Not quite knowing or even realising what this sudden change of heart would mean, he placed his badge and Hogwarts letter and booklist on his table. 'Tomorrow,' he thought, 'I just want to sleep right now. I wonder who the Head Girl is...'
And with that, he slipped into an uncomfortable sleep filled with confusing dreams he'd been having since the start of summer.