Welcome to the Shadowlands
Where the leaves rustle at the feet of the trees,
And the river has fled to the high vales.
A land of grays, and shadows.
Of brown cracked earth, and khaki leaves of grass.
You stand there, a blade unsheathed,
Bright and shining in the twilight.
Beneath your feet pools color bright
Heartsblood as it flows deep beneath
All your secrets this land will keep.
Walk wary else it keep you too.
In the land of shadows dwells nothing true.
Draco Malfoy was sulking. He was in his bed, the curtains down, and he was sulking.
Blaise knew this well, as he'd seen the boy sulk about Potter's Seeker position, and sulk about Granger's grades and even about Weasley's family (though he didn't outwardly complain about that last one.)
A well-done sulk did not end, not quickly at least. Blaise was content to let Draco sulk for the rest of the day, if he desired. He'd recover, it's not like sulking was a fatal disease.
All the news in the world could wait until after Draco Malfoy stopped pouting.
[a/n: Reviews welcome! This is Wednesday, Potions Day!]