Sitting at the table and glaring at the food was not helping his mood at all.
He had tried assigning detentions, tormenting at first-years, and even shut four of them in the broom closet just because he felt like it.
These things, which would have usually put a spring in his step, and an edge to his remarkably witty comebacks (well there was no use denying it, he was incredibly intelligent) seemed to have no effect on him whatsoever except put him in a possibly worse mood.
He stormed down the hallways to lessons, and even the teachers tried to stay out of his way.
Sitting at the back of every class, he'd survey his classmates sulkily, wishing them a painful death.
Last night, he had gotten a letter from Lucius. Here's the ring, Draco' it had said, 'Make sure to propose to Parkinson by the end of this week.'
He had done it the very next morning. How's that for enthusiasm?
In truth, it was not as it seemed. He had not proposed because he was eager, as everyone thought. No, he had proposed as soon as he could because he couldn't take it anymore!
Not that Pansy was a bad sort to marry or anything. She came from one of the best pureblood families, they'd known each other for a long time- almost friends, and she knew exactly what was required of her. It was an extremely beneficial marriage that would bind two of London's most powerful wizarding families together.
No, she wasn't the problem. The problem consisted of fuzzy hair, brown eyes, and an extremely annoying person by the name of Hermione Granger.
Oh how he wished he was in third year again, seething mad after she had slapped him. How he wished that he could look in those eyes and see mud, look at her and see filth. How he wished that day in the library had never happened.
Now he saw chocolate in those eyes. He'd seen her bleed, and her blood was as red as his. He had nothing to go on now, nothing to hate her by. And now, he was avoiding the library, and had to ask to borrow books so he could finish homework assignments. That pissed him off to no end.
It was winter vacation and practically no one was around for the holidays. Everyone had gone off to visit some relative or the other, even the Weasel. Besides a couple of Ravenclaw first years, the only other people at the school besides him were Potter and Granger.
Or, as he liked to think of them, The-Boy-Who-Lived-to-be-a-Pain-In-The-Arse and the Mudblood.
Dumbledore must have had a grudge against him or something, because he left only one table in the Great Hall, where the teacher and the students sat together. The table wasn't even as long as usual, so even though Draco sat as far away as he could from the two Gryffindors, it still wasn't far enough.
Usually at this time of the year, Draco would be off in France, enjoying a luxurious and well- earned break. But no, his father had to insist he stay at Hogwarts while he and Narcissa went off gallivanting to Scotland, apparently settling investment matters.
xxxxxx
The memory of this unjustness brought a growl from Draco even today, earning him several weird looks from the Slytherins sitting around him. Shooting them a glare, he went back to his rudely interrupted memory.
xxxxxx
Of course, Potty had stayed there every single holiday, because his family didn't want him. Draco sneered. He couldn't blame them. Granger was usually gone though, and the Weasel would be in her place. That fellow was just too easy to rile up.
For lack of nothing to do, Draco had wandered around until his feet brought him to the library.
His lips curled in delight as he saw Granger sitting one of the tables, her bushy hair obscuring her face. Without any of her lackeys to jump to her defense, he'd be able to torment her as much as he wanted. He hadn't had the opportunity to properly bully her since third year, and he looked forward to doing so now.
Sauntering over to the table, he dropped down onto the seat opposite her loudly. Startled, she looked up.
"Mudblood." He drawled, by way of greeting.
"Pureblood." She replied, her condescending tone matching his exactly, before returning to the book she was reading.
For a moment, he was taken aback. How dare she talk to him like that?
"Did mummy and daddy finally realize what a freak you are and left you here for the holidays?" he taunted.
Her eyes were expressionless as she looked up at him.
"Did yours?"
What was up with this? He just had to say 'weasel' for the other two to get infuriated, and here she was acting like she didn't care what he was saying.
"My parents had important business to attend to, mudblood. Unlike those sniveling sods of filth you call parents," He sneered
"Ah, yes. So they're away on Important Business." She replied sarcastically, flipping the page. "But don't you have that big, enormous manor of yours? Aw, can poor little Drakie not stay home alone? Is he scared of the big, bad mansion at night?"
Draco scowled. "A tenth of my house would seem like a mansion compared to what you, Potty, and Weasel King stay at put together. And at least my family knows what 'important business' is, and it's not knitting things that look like wooly bladders." He smirked.
"They're hats." She responded testily, snapping the book shut, and moving onto another volume. He grinned, seeing that he had finally struck a nerve.
"Ah yes. For that little club of yours, right? Puke, was it called? Vomit?"
"It's S.P.E.W." she breathed, lips drawing in a thin line and glaring at him. "And it's not a little club. It's a membership of those who want to protect elfish welfare." The book now lay to the side of her, completely forgotten. "Of course, they'd have to actually have those rights in order for us to protect them, wouldn't they-"
"Granger," I interrupted, "Have you actually tried asking the elves whether they want to be free or not? Because if you did, then you'd realize that they're happy working for us."
"That's because they're brainwashed by slave-drivers like you" she spat. "Look at Dobby! He's absolutely ecstatic about being free!"
I rolled my eyes.
"There's always the freak in the bunch. He's the one out of a billion that would actually be happier getting paid for work."
"I didn't expect you to understand." She sneered, and started scribbling away on a roll of parchment.
'What a nutcase.' I thought. 'She's willing to fight tooth and nail against pretty much the entire Wizarding population to make sure that the rest of the elves get the same rights as one insane one. The 'freak' in the bunch. That kind of reminds me of-
"Oh."
She looked up from her assignment and raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
The beginnings of a smirk were forming upon my face.
"Oh nothing." I said. I tried flashing her an innocent look, but my facial muscles couldn't quite pull it off to the extent I wanted. Undeterred, I went on. "It's just that I finally realized why PUKE is so important to you."
She shot me an absolutely livid look, but it was a mark of curiosity that she let the comment pass and waited for me to go on.
I leaned forward on the desk and clasped my hands together, arranging what I hoped was an earnest look. Yes, a glimmer of something that looked like hope flashed in her eyes, but it was gone not a second after I spoke. I told her, with a completely serious expression on my face,
"I think you have an inferiority complex."