I don\'t need them.

Of couse he had a habit of having the last word. It was another Malfoy thing. Always right, and if not, then he atleast gets the last word.

After laying out on the bleachers for a while and watching first year\'s flying lessons, he packed up and left for dinner.

Setting down, he muses about one\'s skills, Ravenclaw if he was correct, reminded him much of himelf that first year, really.

Sighing, waiting for the food to appear, he places some potatoes and steak on his plate, not really hungry. Mixing his peas with his mashed potatoes until it was a big mess of green goop. He was tired of leaving early, so he tuned in on Blaise\' conversation with a fifth year girl. Something about wooing her to a room that he knew of.

Rolling his eyes, he chose to stop listening, knowing perfectly well of Zabini\'s antics of getting females into his bed.

Right. If he ever managed to steal one\'s glance from Draco.


After Hermione all-but-did his transfiguration essay (he suspected out of pity), Harry and the rest headed down to the Great Hall for supper.

Again, Harry found himself sitting there quietly, pushing the food around on his plate idly. Why, all of a sudden, were meal so boring, and why did he never have an appitite? Well, Harry knew the answer to that, but he was doing his best to forget the night at the Ministry...

Damn, he was trying to not think about that night.

He glanced over at the Slytherin table. Draco had his back to him, but he could tell that the pale blonde was doing pretty much the same as him, not eating or talking. Harry couldn\'t help but feel bad for the boy. He had lost his father, even if Harry loathed him, and though he was still alive, Harry knew what it was like to lose a family member. He wanted to walk over and give the boy a big hug, among other things...


Waiting untill most of the students were gone off to bed or the library or something, Draco pushes his untouched plate away and stands up, stalking off silently to the doors and to the Slytherin common room to get his atronomy book and bag. After a quick change of clothes, he heads out to the silent grounds, hanging around by the lake, watching the tentacles of the Giant lake swarm up and bat at the sky for a while, confused by the freshly forming stars.

Sighing and raking a hand through his hair, he hears the Eleven o\'clock warning signal for curfew. He heads up to the Astronomy tower for the class, getting yet another detention for someone\'s Telescope going wacky and getting the blame for it.

Once one rolls around, the class is dismissed and Draco packs away his telescope and makes his way down to the Slytherin Common room in silence, spending another night infront of the fire, not going to bed until anothe student tells him to.

The next morning, he walked down to breakfast before anyone else was there, sitting and listening to Blaise talk about that Fifth year he had gotten into his bed before Astronomy. Rolling his eyes and poking at his toast, he doesn\'t pay too much attention.


After a while, the large room began to fill with students and teachers, and the owl post came in.

A small white letter landed infront of Draco and his brows came together. No one had sent him post in a while, and he couldn\'t recognise the writing. Opening it slowly, he pulled out a small stationary parhment.

Draco,

It\'s Bellatrix. I wish I weren\'t the one to tell you this. And I pray that you shall not be hurt badly, but Narcissa has been murdered. Pick up today\'s Daily Prophet and glance at the obituary if you do not believe me. I am greiving the loss of my sister, and I will always be here for you to send a letter to. With your father in Azkaban, and your mother gone, you now have the Malfoy fortune to your name. Enclosed is the key to the Gringotts vault.

That was it.

Draco dropped the letter, shaking as he grabbed a nearby person\'s morning paper and flipped to the obituaries. Right there was his mother\'s name.

His chest tightened and he reached into the envelope and lifted out a small silver key. \"...No..\" He murmers, his eyes tearing up slightly. Biting down on his lower lip, he grabs the letter and key, standing up and racing from the Great Hall and outside. He wasn\'t about to let anyone see him cry.

Racing out to the grounds he drops to his knees and and presses his face to his arms, tears streaking down his face. There was no way this was happening. Shaking, he feels a hand on his shoulder and glanced up to see Blaise. \"Dray...\" He murmers softly, leaning down to rub Draco\'s lower back. \"What\'s the matter?\" He asks gently.

Draco wrapped his arms around Blaise and sobbed into his chest. \"She\'s gone Blaise... gone...\"

\"Who?\"

\"My mum!\" His heart broke to admit to it and he was so overcome with tremers that he didn\'t speak again, merely sobbing into Blaise\'s chest as the other male rubbed his back in slow circles, shushing him gently.


Nearly the whole table watched the scene unfold, or the whole school teachers and all, really. When Harry heard what he thought he heard, he snatched the paper from Hermione\'s hands and skimmed the obituaries for the name Malfoy, Narcissa. It was there.

Harry had never wanted so badly to run up and comfort the boy; to be in Blaise\'s shoes right now, rubbing his back and soothing him, understanding what it was like to have a parent murdered.

Instead all he could do was watch Draco fall to peices from a far.


Draco tried to compose himself twice, only to fall to peices the second he had rubbed his face clean of tears.

Finally managing to stand properly without his legs giving out, he tells Blaise to go to class, tell the teacher that he wouldn\'t be there today, he\'s taking the day off of classes due to personal issues.

Blaise walked Draco over to a tree and let him sit down with a worried look, but left after a minute, not wanting to be late and get a detention.

Draco slid down the tree and pulled the letter back out, rereading it again and again, unstoppable tears slipping down his pale cheeks, his perfect chin dimpling as he tried to fight it. This wasn\'t happening. It can\'t be happening.

But it is. Isn\'t it?

_____________________

Short Chapter. But it\'s filled with drama, so... yeah. I\'ll update later on, though.