Potter - Malfoy

Draco

I strolled through the green light of the Slytherin common room. The chill from the lake slithered across my skin. Though winter had always been my favourite season, the icy temperatures they brought were not much comfort as the dark evenings drew on.

I wasn't alone, of course. The common room was filled with homework doers and conversations. I slumped myself down on one of the green stained leather sofas, groaning in discomfort as I pulled a small box from under my leg. I peered inside, hoping for something edible, only to find a cheap looking bracelet. Just as the idea of pocketing it crossed my mind, Millicent Bulstrode marched over to me and pulled it from my clasp.

"This," she snarled. "Is mine."

"And what is your point?" I responded, looking up at her, my face pulling its usual look of spite.

"You stole it!"

"Well, my dear. As much as I'd love to claim that I did, I didn't. I have no reason to steal off you nor do I wear bracelets myself."

"But you were holding it!"

"Well observed. Now piss off," I spat. I glared at her, my favourite expression. One of spite and distaste. With a huff of evident dislike, she turned on her heel and left me in somewhat peace.

I peered around the common room, eying up the faces that my housemates took on. I could be friends with any of these people. One could be my future wife, another my best man. But I didn't want to be friends with them. I didn't want to know what they do in their free time. I didn't care. I don't care.

The one person I wanted to be friends with was off pissing about with some Gryffindors. He was taking my plan too seriously. I just wanted inside information on what they got up to. That Weasley boy had his brothers on the quidditch team, meaning Harry might gain some inside knowledge which would help the Slytherin team. That wasn't the plan. It wasn't meant to last this long. He wasn't meant to prefer them to me. They are Gryffindors for Christ's sake. I'm his friend. He stayed at my home for Christmas. I am the one he should talk to about everything. Not those Gryffindors.

I ran my hand through my bleach blond hair, sighing and slipping further down into the sofa. I took another look at those faces. Those smiling faces. How could they be happy? Where did they find joy? This place is freezing, dark and alone. Nothing happens around here. At least, nothing that concerns me.