DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter
YEAR 4
The small, silver serpent decorated timepiece that sat in the silent Slytherin common room chimed 4 delicate bells. The outsized, spacious dungeon was cut off from all light, save for what the couple dozen silver tennis ball sized floating orbs gave off. The conjured nightlights slowly moved their way around the deserted room, until movement was sensed. As if brought forth by this presence, the orbs lowered themselves in two lines to form a path setting forth from the first step of the dormitory stairs. Bare, pale feet padded soundlessly down these stairs, stepping without hesitation onto the lit path. Once Draco started walking down the trail the lights adjusted themselves, swaying and swerving on the ground to lead him to where he desired; the Slytherin boy's lavatory.
He pushed past the heavy wooden door that swung reluctantly with a groan, revealing the large, dull silver tiles of the bathroom floor. Draco's upper body suddenly went rigid as he made his way across the freezing floor. His loose forest green pajamas seemed to do nothing against the chill. It didn't matter anyway as the showers came into view. With nimble fingers he quickly had his shirt unbuttoned and slipped it off, draping it on the metal towel rack on the side of the end shower stall. He took a moment, letting his eyelids fall closed and embracing the feel of the chilled air wrapping its invisible arms around his waist and lightly kissing his slightly muscular stomach. He exhaled a small meaningless sigh and tugged at one of the cream colored strings of his pants. The neatly tied bow unraveled and he watched the fabric slide to the ground. He stared down at the contrast of the green against the silver, losing himself in the colors as they grew fuzzy. It took a minute before he shook his head and brought himself out of the trance. With a scowl he bent over and snatched his pants from the floor and tossed them on the metal bar with his shirt. A quick shiver ran up and down his spine where goosebumps followed as he stood naked before the small, dark green tiles of the shower stall.
He pulled open the frosted glass door and stepped through, letting it close on its own. When it sealed with a click, water began to spurt through the shiny, flat silver showerhead. Ice cold drops of liquid speckled Draco's shoulders causing him to shiver involuntarily. In no time at all the water was flowing freely from above in heavy streams. Tiny puffs of steam rose as the wonderfully scorching wetness pelted his face and shoulders. Draco closed his eyes and moaned contentedly in his throat, lifting his chin to allow the heavenly heated fluid engulf the rest of his body. The temperature of the water running over his cold contrasting skin scalded him in a strangely pleasant way.
Once his whole body was graced with the elixir's warmth he dropped his head to stare at the glistening green tiles before him. The water soaked his platinum blonde head and ran down his smirking face. The smile began to flicker away, however, when he saw his own reflection in the tightly grouped squares. He tried looking past it, but only saw the unhappiness lurking behind him. His stare turned into a glare, hating the distorted faint lines of the boy hating him back. The harder he looked, the more the face changed until suddenly it wasn't his face anymore. Blankly he saw dull grey eyes turn to the color of the shower wall in front of him. The face that didn't belong to him twisted into a grin and gazed back behind circular frames…
"NO!" he shouted as he punched the face away with his palm, his tone hot and furious. The sound of the impact echoed within the four walls.
No. Fuck Potter. Fuck him. Fuck!
He gritted his teeth and tightly shut his eyes, pressing his forehead to the still cool tiles trying to exterminate the thoughts he couldn't control.
Shithead Potter. He gets everything. Everything!
A sudden sob took him by surprise and escaped through his clenched teeth. He shook his head slowly against the smooth shower wall. Another hiccup of misery bubbled up as his throat tightened. He stood up straight, letting his back hit one of the side walls and sliding down until he reached the floor. The shower's warm embrace was out of reach now. His head fell against the corner of the wall and he watched the water shine against the floor tiles and disappear down the drain.
Draco lost himself in the crystal clear streams, succumbing to the overbearing confusion he felt. He was so tired. He hadn't slept well at all since returning to Hogwarts and things just kept getting worse and worse; first with the Golden Boy being chosen as the 4th TriWizard Tournament Champion, then with his lucky success at the first task. It was all too ridiculous. Why did everything always work out for him?
A hot burning sensation began building, pressing behind the Slytherin's eyes. He clenched his fists and silently cursed Potter for living. Everything about him made him angry; his face, his eyes, his fake smile, the sound of his voice, his pansy personality, but more than anything, he hated the way the pit of his stomach twisted every time their gazes crossed.
The sudden creaking and groaning of the bathroom door brought Draco back from his thoughts. He sighed in annoyance, running his fingers through his hair to push back the bothersome dripping strands. A dark, fuzzy figure passed by Draco's shower door. He watched the male figure pause, then back up and stand before the translucent glass.
"Drake?" the voice whispered hoarsely. Draco's annoyance shifted to anger.
"What, Blaise?" he growled. He didn't have the patience for him right now.
"You weren't in bed. Just wondered where you skulked off to."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm here in the shower. You found me. Congratulations. This does happen to be a private affair, however, so maybe you should leave me the fuck alone."
He could see the silhouette shake its head. "Ah, come now, Draco. I don't want to have to force myself into your head. You know it would be easier for the both of us if you just told me what's bothering you."
"It's a shame I've never been one for the easy route."
"Draco," Blaise said sternly, "I can't sleep not knowing where you are or what you could be doing at such a ridiculous hour-"
"Blaise, I'm warning you."
"I can't help that I think you might be doing something self-destructive!"
Draco's eyebrows pulled together, a little taken by surprise.
That I could never do…
Blaise took the silence differently.
"You're…you're not, right?" he said quietly, panic clear in his voice. Draco just sat and said nothing.
What would it prove?
"…Draco?"
There is no gain in death. What would be the point?
"Drake?"
Blaise suddenly grabbed the shower door's silver handle and wrenched it open. Wide, shocked silver eyes shot up at him.
"BLAISE!"
Almost as quickly as he had stepped in, he was forcefully shoved back out through the glass door by Draco. Blaise fell back a few steps then regained his balance. He stared at the frosted pale figure that kept the foggy door tightly in its place.
"Um…"
"Out." Draco ordered sharply. Blaise's face dropped sadly, but he nodded and turned away.
Draco sighed heavily through his nose, standing with his forehead against the glass.
This was not going to be a good year.