Disclaimer: All to J.K Rowling, My Hero

This is where I say I've had enough
And no one should ever feel the way that I feel now.
A walking open wound, a trophy display of bruises
And I don't believe that I'm getting any better.

Excerpts from "Saints and Sailors"- Dashboard Confessional


Draco Malfoy smirked. It was a expression he had learned to so since birth, smirk and arrogance were in his blood. He was standing near his mother, who was busy talking to the confused looking muggle at the reception desk. This was his mother's fault. She had dragged Draco with her to Coppingham. She had totally destroyed his summer by walking into his room one day, just a day before his summer vacation really started, and startling him by announcing that she needed a break from Wiltshire and that she had reserved a two suites at the grandest hotel in a muggle town.

Draco had done everything in his power to stop his mother, arguing that the small town was going to be filled with disgusting muggles, but his mother didn't listen to him, and argued with her son that they would do the best they could to ignore such vermin and soak up all the town had to offer. But Draco wasn't stupid; he knew why his mother wanted to escape the manor.

Lucius Malfoy had been incarcerated for almost a year, and his mother was suffering. Narcissa's Malfoy's reputation among the pureblood society had been wavering. She no longer had the gleam of a socialite, and she feared that her son would be frowned upon. She did the only thing she could think of, escape for a summer and ignore the rumors and gossip around the wizadring community.

Draco thought she was merely a coward. He didn't care what other people thought of him.

"Draco!" his mother called, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yes Mother?" he asked in an annoyed tone.

"Everything is ready, we can go up now to our rooms, you may go, I think I'll have a drink before I go up."

Draco snorted. He was used to his mother's pre dinner drink. The whole had stared ever since his father had gone to jail. Old habits die hard he mused to himself. He lugged his leather luggage to his suite and took in the room. The room was decorated in a deep navy blue, with a breathtaking view of the ocean. Draco stared at the strange appliance. He had heard about it, something that the muggles called a "tele" or referred as a television. Draco set down his luggage and flopped on the bed.

He was frustrated and tired. The last thing he had wanted to do was to spend his last summer before graduating at Hogwarts was spending it in a dinky muggle hotel. He had gone through a lot during his sixth year. Things that he didn't even want to remember again.

Everything inside of him just broke down inside of him. He portrayed a tough exterior, but when it came to his feelings, he tried his best to hide it and puff out his ego. But the wall of arrogance he had built all this year was slowly decaying, and his emotions wanted to break lose. Draco was in a depression, and his mother never even noticed. As long as he smiled and responded, his mother acted as if he were some kind of pet and praised him when he did something good.

He was sick of being treated as a basket case. His Slytherin mates had almost treated him with pity and sympathy after hearing about his father. Draco had brushed it off and refused to take pity from anyone. Draco shifted his weight on his bed and stared up at the white ceiling. Only a few days ago, had he reached for an old silver knife he hid in his pillowcase at home. Draco had locked his room and curled up in a ball, contemplating whether to do it or not. Without any thought, Draco had taken the gleaming knife to his vein on his pale arm and sliced the knife on his skin.

A trickle of crimson blood had fallen on his white bedspread, and Draco savored the pain he felt out of cutting. Part of him panicked shortly after, and he had rushed to his bathroom to bandage his arm before he lost any significant amount of blood. His mother had never even noticed the bandage, even when he would lounge around the manor with a wife beater on. Draco continued the practice the next two days, and winced whenever he felt the pain, but part of him felt alive. It made him forget everything, it made him forget about Hogwarts, his father, You-Know-Who and all the mounds of depression that had gathered in his thoughts. It was the first time in a long time that Draco had let the depression over come him, he would always push it out of his mind and keep himself occupied in other things.

But know that he had pretty much taken up the role as a outcast in Hogwarts, there weren't many things to keep his mind off things now. All of the old Draco had nearly faded away. A more dark and angsty boy had taken his place. It's not that Draco wanted to become a outsider, but he felt as if all the people at Hogwarts were so fucking fake. Especially the fucking Golden Trio. Draco had never encountered such nauseating people. Everyone loved Pothead and Weasel, and they both adored their bushy haired companion, Hermione Granger.

It disgusted him to see the three prance around Hogwarts like the owned the bloody place. Ron and Harry would nearly bite his head off if he ever said anything in front of the damn mud blood. Sometimes, she would protest and would snap at the other two boys and proclaim that she could bloody well protect herself. Draco absolutely loved pushing Granger's buttons. It excited him to see her turn red and mutter obscenities at him under her breath.

Dracp sighed and leaned against the headboard. Outside, he could hear the faint sound of the waves crashing, and a few kids squealing with
delight as they played in the ocean. He might as well go and explore the bloody sea. There wasn't much to do, and he was almost hesitant t turn on that weird box thing. Draco changed into more decent clothes. He replaced his elegant clothes (forced to by his mother, to appear "normal to the muggle society" into a gray windbreaker and his faded jeans. Draco almost didn't like sandals, but his mother had bought him soft leather Italian flip-flops, and they had been his favorite pair for numerous years.

Draco took the elevator (asking a woman next to him what was he to do with all the numbers) to the main floor and walked out. He stood still for a couple of seconds and let the soft breeze blow a couple of strands of hair into his face. He had grown his hair into a almost layered shag, letting it cover his eyes. He no longer used that hard gel that he had grown accustomed to using, and let his soft blonder hair dry.

Draco rolled the bottom of his pants up to his knee and walked to the edge, feeling the sand squish around as he walked. Draco set down the towel he had brought with him and placed far from the throng of tourists. He sat down and looked beyond the sea. He stayed for what had seemed like hours. The sun was coming down, and the sky was streaked with a faint glow of orange.

He laid down for a second, and turned his right. On his side, not far from him he could make out a girl. Draco studied her and rolled on the right to capture a glimpse of her. She was lying down and seemed to be asleep. The last few rays of light caught her. She had long lean legs, and seemed to be very tan. She was wearing a red shirt with a blue jean shorts, and had long curly brown hair that splayed out into waves around her. Draco raised himself up and quietly walked over to the girl.

Her face was heart shaped, and she had the cutest button nose. He had never been so intrigued. Just when he was to inch a bit closer, the girl's eyes popped open and her mouth and arched an eyebrow.

"Malfoy?" she shrieked?

Draco backed down and cursed.

It was Hermione Granger.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. I'm trying to broaden my horizons on writing. I do hope all of you enjoyed this chapter. Please feed a hungry author and feed me with reviews