You're telling everyone how different that you really are
But it's been said before, so maybe you're not special after all
If you put the same amount of effort into letting go
Just act yourself and you might like it, you never know
'Cause everything you want, everything you do
You try so hard to be everyone but you
Everywhere you turn, you just gotta learn
It's easier if you don't try so hard
And it's people like you that me sick
I'm surrounded by you everywhere I look
Is there somewhere I can go to get away
Where there's truth and people mean just what they say
You try too hard
You just try too hard
You try too hard
Draco sat in a chair behind his father's desk. He looked straight ahead, at the empty chair in front of the massive desk, and knew that he would never be like his father in many ways. He remembered always sitting in the chair in front of him when he was in trouble, his father smiling as he spoke to him, no doubt in Draco's mind that the old man was already thinking of how he was going to torment him. He would never get how his father worked and he really didn't want to ever try. With a sigh he pulled open a drawer and pulled out stacks upon stacks of paper. His father, it seemed, kept ever slip of paper that could ever be saved.
"Young master?" he heard as he shifted through the third pile of papers.
"What, Daster?" he asked without looking up from his work.
"Young master, visitor." Was all the elf said before a pop was heard.
Draco looked up to see who had entered the room. His eye's met with Dumbledore's.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, none to kindly.
"I've come to see if you need any assistance, Mr. Malfoy." The older man explained, tipping his head towards the stacks of paper still waiting to be looked through.
"No, thank you, I've everything under control." He answered his back stiff.
"Mr. Malfoy, this is a feat an accountant could barely handle on his own, much less a 17 year old young man." He countered.
"Professor Dumbledore, while I thank you for your kindness, I am sure I will be fine." Draco snapped at the man, closing his eyes in a grimace when the words left his mouth.
That would make the old man even more determined to help. Draco was, unfortunately, right about this. Dumbledore pulled the chair closer to the desk and moved all of the papers that Draco hadn't shifted though to the middle of the desk, going though them immediately. They worked in silence, Draco in confusion and slight anger, Dumbledore in, no doubt, pleasure.
"It seems, Mr. Malfoy, that your father had everything in order before his imprisonment." The grey haired wizard said after three hours of going though paper work. "I'll take care of it from here."
"What are you talking about?" the pale blond teenager asked, curious to say the least.
"School is in session, Mr. Malfoy. You should be at Hogwarts with your peers, not in this manor, surrounded by memories best left for another time." The headmaster said with a smile on his face.
Draco looked at the desk; know home to three small, neat piles of papers. He looked at the top paper of each and flinched when he saw the last pile. Dark arts, spells and curses, no doubt. He stared at the other piles and saw one was for transfers of money and stuff like that, the other looked to be bills to places, all paid for probably.
"I'll handle it." Draco said, not wanting any more help.
"Mr. Malfoy, I assure you, it is no problem." Dumbledore answered kindly while his picked the papers up and put them in one pile, making sure they were in the right order before standing, the papers still in his hands. "Now, Mr. Malfoy, if there is nothing else you have to deal with, I think we best be going."
Draco didn't trust the man with the papers but it seemed he had no choice in the matter. Thinking about what all he had to do he sighed. There were rooms in this manor that hadn't seen light in years, decades even. There were 'rewards' from the sorry excuse for a wizard in the trophy room. His mother had had a wing to herself; Draco was never aloud there so heaven only knew what was held there. He'd cleaned out his room before leaving for Hogwarts, planning on never returning to the manor. His father had another study, a den and a billiard room. God only knew why though, his father only used this room. Draco was dreading going into the other rooms but also knew it was something he would have to do alone.
"Mr. Malfoy, if you would please follow me." He heard from far off.
He turned to find Dumbledore looking at him, a twinkle in his eye. He'd forgotten that the man was here for a moment.
"What?" he asked, looking around him to make sure he was still in the manor, standing in front of the now closed study doors.
"If you would follow me, Mr. Malfoy. I would like to get you back to school as soon as possible." The headmaster answered, looking around, trying to find what had caught Draco's interest.
"How are we getting there?" he asked, knowing it was a stupid question, his father had the floo hooked up to the school.
"We will be traveling by Hogwarts Express, of course." The older man answered, surprised by the question.
"Well, my father had the floo hooked to Hogwarts, I just assumed…" Draco said, knowing that Dumbledore had to have known already.
"No, my dear boy, your father was in Hogwarts when he flooed into your common room." Dumbledore, smiling slightly.
"What do you mean? Why would he be in Hogwarts?" Draco asked, truly confused.
"Your father was there on a meeting, both times. I'm sorry I couldn't help the last time he visited." He answered, stroking his bead softly. "It shouldn't have happened; I will make sure it doesn't again." He added, making sure to give Draco eye contact, something the teenager avoided like the plague.
"Alright." Draco answered, more than slightly uncomfortable. "Let's go." He mumbled, feeling like an idiot thinking his father clever enough to hook up a floo.
Granger was in the common room when he walked through the portrait door. She was asleep; it seemed, with a book held loosely in her hands. She looked… lazy lying there like that.
"Get up, Granger." He snapped at her, going to the couch and pushing her legs off of one end to sit down.
"What time is it?" she answered, sounding like she was still asleep.
"Seven thirty." He answered after glancing at the clock that sat on the mantle.
"What? No it can't be that late! I still have Muggle studies homework." She yelled the book she held dropping to the floor as she stood up and ran to her room.
He looked after her in disgust. She was a Muggle, why would she need to study them? She made no sense, none at all. He sat there for a couple minutes before he got up and walked to his room. Looking around he saw the bathroom door was opened and he went to close it, he didn't want to hear her tonight if she went in there. He sighed and walked over to his bed and laid down, closing his eyes in exhaustion. His father was more trouble than he was worth. The kiss was scheduled for sometime this week or next week, he really didn't care. He didn't plan to go watch it, he trusted the dementors to do their jobs. When he finally fell asleep he was unaware of his bathroom door opening and a girl walking into his room, up to his bed. He didn't feel her reach out with a shaking hand to smooth his hair back from his face; he also didn't feel the soft kiss she placed on his forehead before withdrawing and walking back to the bathroom. The door closed and Draco smiled slightly in his sleep before turning into his pillow and falling into a peaceful night's sleep.