Chapter 4: The Bed
"Drakey," a flirtatious feminine voice called between knocks. "Are you in there?"
Draco sighed. He was foolish to think he could escape the world by merely hiding out in his dormitory, especially after the stunt he had pulled earlier in the Great Hall. No doubt one of the many Slytherin beauties had come to "congratulate" him on such a daring act, in front of all the teachers and the headmaster no less. 'They just can't get enough of me,' he thought to himself smirking as he slid off his four-poster bed and made for the door.
He ran a quick hand through his platnum blonde hair before reaching for the silver snake-encrusted doorknob and pulling the door open with a creak. Before him stood one of the most sultry and prominent Slytherin 6th years, Victoria Shumway, eying him like he was the last lollypop in the entire candy store and she was a child having been deprived of such luxeries for too long.
Her bright green eyes surveyed him unabashedly and she tossed her long raven black hair before prancing past him to enter his room as if Draco had already given her permission. Draco shook is head, smiling at her forwardness and closed the door behind her. Victoria had already perched herself on the corner of his bed and was stroking the emerald sheets with her fingertips before Draco even turned around.
"You haven't come to see me in a long time Drakey, I've missed you," she cooed, tilting her head to the side and pouting her bottom lip as if she was going to tear up at any minute, though Draco doubted she had that kind of emotion within her. That would be unbecoming of a daughter of such a wealthy family and a Slytherin for that matter.
"My time has been engaged elsewhere," Draco answered cooly, taking a few slow steps forward. Victoria was trying to tease him, that was obvious, but Draco rarely took the bait. In fact, it had been several months since their last "meeting," as Draco's mind had been too consumed with thoughts for a certain red-head. Though it hadn't stopped Victoria from trying.
"Elsewhere? Or with someone else?" She asked raising an eyebrow, her tone not in the least bit angry, for it was common knowledge Draco Malfoy had a large female following, even from the other houses. Even with such a reputation, he was still sought after and Draco accredited it towards his belief that every woman had desire to walk on the wild side at one point or another. He just happened to show up whenever they felt that sudden surge to rebel. Being at the right place at the right time, a Malfoy's duty.
"You know along with everyone else in this castle, I have never been a one woman man," Draco replied simply. "No girl is worth that kind of sacrifice." For a second his mind drifted towards Ginny Weasley, the sweet, innocent, easily provoked, foolish girl. His jaw became stiff and his fists clenched as anticipation swelled within him at the thought of making her his, of ripping her out of the clutches of Potter and laughing smuggly in his disgusting face.
He shook his head to escape the trance Ginny had seemed to put over him once again, and realized Victoria was looking at him curiously.
"No girl? Is that so?" She flirted, taunting him by leaning back dangerously on his massive bed, her black locks falling gracefully onto the bedspread.
Draco gazed at the elegant bed draped with silver curtains and covered in Slytherin green silk sheets. It had been one of his birthday presents from his father when he turned 15 years old-- a coming of age present as his father told him. Lucius Malfoy was so certain he knew his son, that he could anticipate his feelings, that he was just a younger version of himself. Hence, the present. Any other normal teenage wizard might have been confused when Lucius said, "We Malfoy men need our room to maneuver." But Draco understood. He had lost his innocense long ago. Sometimes he questioned whether or not he ever had it for that matter. He blamed his parents.
However, Draco couldn't deny that this sturdy cherry-framed bed had been useful. In fact, it had been the place where much time was enjoyed since his 15th birthday. This, however, only added fuel to the fire, for his Father had been right. Draco hated being indebted to him, or to even acknowledge something he had done had turned out useful to his son.
But his father was right. Slowly but surely, Lucius Malfoy had turned his son into something Draco had despised all his life; his father. Draco recognized who he had become at such a young age. The world knew. The students at Hogwarts knew. There was no escaping the destiny laid out before him. Draco sighed inwardly, gazing at the exotic girl lying invitingly on his bed. The Malfoy-men token.
"Like Father, like son," he muttered to himself before walking forward, giving into his fate once again.