Post by draco malfoy on Sept 15, 2009 17:17:42 GMT -5
Grey. the dreary flat color hung oppressively over the heads of the scattering of students who had decided to raise early and attend breakfast in the Great Hall, the cheerless sky indicating an equally cheerless day ahead for the school and its inhabitants. Perhaps it was the early hour, or perhaps it was the dreary weather looming outside, or perhaps it was the frightening recent chain of events indicating Voldermort's return, but something was putting a dampener on the typical hum of student voices. Conversations, typically tossed around so freely and noisily, were now conducted in lower, terse tones. Laughter was sparse, rarely lasting beyond two or three beats before being quietly extinguished. Tensions were raised as well. Just looking about many of the students, they exhibited the tightness to their posture and features that spoke of worry and stress.
Not the least of these was Draco Malfoy. The sixth-year Slytherin sat at his house's long table alone, slumped over a nearly-untouched plate of food. This was unusual for him. Draco, alone? Typically he would have at least one member of his entourage trailing along after him. While Draco has habitually an early riser, it had been habit up until now for him to wait in his house's common room for the others to rise before heading out into the Great Hall itself. Alone, slumped over the food like he was, the typically arrogant boy seemed somewhat... diminished.
Perhaps it was the dark circles that were becoming apparent under the student's eyes, or the fact that his usual tight expression was tighter than normal. He looked tired, as if he hadn't slept a bit the night before. He hadn't, truthfully. Sleep had been scarce to him over the summer, and scarcer now that he was in Hogwarts. With his father being captured and the blow to his status, could the boy be blamed?
At least, that's what everyone seemed to think and say. Truth be told, that was only a portion of the matter. The brand of a Death Eater still throbbed on Draco's arm, the mark kept neatly concealed beneath the heavy fabric of his school robes. How would the other students, he wondered idly to himself, grey eyes sweeping across the room, react if they knew that a real Death Eater was in their midst? After all, Hogwarts was supposed to be safe and secure against such things. And yet here he was, the first hurdle of the Dark Lord's mission overcome. He doubted anyone really suspected. Well, Potter. But Potter had been crying wolf after him for so long that people mostly stopped listening when the boy wonder accused him of such a thing.
He'd really have to thank Potter for that someday. believe it or not, it made his life that much easier.
And he needed all the slack he did. Between coursework and the tasks Lord Voldermort had bestowed upon him... and the punishment hovering over his head should he fail... it had all seemed so easy, when he imagined it. Everything was to go so smooth and perfect... of course,h e should know better than to think that reality would go off as easily as a dream. Not for the first time that morning, the lone Slytherin heaved a weary sigh, picking absentmindedly at his food. Had he gotten into something too far over his head this time...?
Not the least of these was Draco Malfoy. The sixth-year Slytherin sat at his house's long table alone, slumped over a nearly-untouched plate of food. This was unusual for him. Draco, alone? Typically he would have at least one member of his entourage trailing along after him. While Draco has habitually an early riser, it had been habit up until now for him to wait in his house's common room for the others to rise before heading out into the Great Hall itself. Alone, slumped over the food like he was, the typically arrogant boy seemed somewhat... diminished.
Perhaps it was the dark circles that were becoming apparent under the student's eyes, or the fact that his usual tight expression was tighter than normal. He looked tired, as if he hadn't slept a bit the night before. He hadn't, truthfully. Sleep had been scarce to him over the summer, and scarcer now that he was in Hogwarts. With his father being captured and the blow to his status, could the boy be blamed?
At least, that's what everyone seemed to think and say. Truth be told, that was only a portion of the matter. The brand of a Death Eater still throbbed on Draco's arm, the mark kept neatly concealed beneath the heavy fabric of his school robes. How would the other students, he wondered idly to himself, grey eyes sweeping across the room, react if they knew that a real Death Eater was in their midst? After all, Hogwarts was supposed to be safe and secure against such things. And yet here he was, the first hurdle of the Dark Lord's mission overcome. He doubted anyone really suspected. Well, Potter. But Potter had been crying wolf after him for so long that people mostly stopped listening when the boy wonder accused him of such a thing.
He'd really have to thank Potter for that someday. believe it or not, it made his life that much easier.
And he needed all the slack he did. Between coursework and the tasks Lord Voldermort had bestowed upon him... and the punishment hovering over his head should he fail... it had all seemed so easy, when he imagined it. Everything was to go so smooth and perfect... of course,h e should know better than to think that reality would go off as easily as a dream. Not for the first time that morning, the lone Slytherin heaved a weary sigh, picking absentmindedly at his food. Had he gotten into something too far over his head this time...?