Stained Glass

It isn’t as if I don’t enjoy the simple things in life. The way the sun reflects off of the lake outside my window. The way the birds sing in the morning, awaking the day. Even the way that mother’s perfume smells like fresh flowers. But I enjoy the larger, better things in life more. I am supposed to, for I am a Malfoy.

By my father’s definition, money and fame are the most important things, the best things. I grew up knowing that I could have anything I wanted, anything my heart desired. So when that girl walked into my life, I knew that I had to have her. But for the first time in my life, something would be harder to get then simply snapping my fingers.

*~*

Placing a hand on the immense pile of books strapped to the trunk in front of him, Draco sighed. School was finally over with. The past year of his life had been the hardest he had ever faced. But now it was done, and he could smile again.

He planned to move out of the house as soon as he could. He wasn’t entitled to a pound of the family fortune until his father died, and he couldn’t wait around any longer. Bless his father for all he had done for the family, but Draco still hated the man.

Speak of the devil. Draco smiled weakly at his parents, dropping the handle of his trunk. As he embraced his mother, a servant whisked the trunk off to the waiting car. Turning to face his father, they shook hands quickly. It wasn’t right for two Malfoy males to hug in public.

“Full marks Father,” Draco said, his voice full of false pride. He wouldn’t have failed a class if he tried. His father had made sure of that. There was only one person in the whole school who had gotten higher marks. Hermione Granger.

Hermione and himself had been at each other’s throats the whole last year. She had been Head Girl, himself Head Boy. Prefects since he could remember. Highest marks that Hogwarts had ever seen; though she earned hers.

“Top in your classes, eh?” Lucius said, elbowing his son in the stomach. Draco ignored it and stared down at his feet.

“No sir. Her… Granger beat me,” he said slowly, tracing the pavement with the tip of his foot. Looking up at his father, he winced from the look he received. It was more painful for Draco because of the fact that she was Muggle born, a mixed blood, and his father knew it.

“A Mudblood got higher marks then you?” his father asked, his voice rising with anger. Draco stood there; shaking slightly from a cool breeze that blew past him, but even more from the fear he felt. He knew what his father was capable of. Unconsciously, he rubbed his arm where it was littered in bruises. He flinched as his mother put her arm around him, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s enough talk about school. Draco is tired from his last day. Let’s just go home,” Narcissa said. His father nodded and turned away with out another word, but Draco still watched him in fear. Digging his hands into his pockets, he let his mother steer him to the car, his eyes closed.

*~*

Draco let his eyes wander over the familiar space of his room, letting them rest on the window. It was open, the curtains rippling from a slight breeze. He walked over to it, feeling a cool wind rush over his face. As he sat, peering outside, he saw the lake; its blue waters lapping against the sand.

He recalled a time when his mother had brought him down to that beach, gone swimming with him in the warm waters. It was one of the few times that she had had time to play with him as a child. Often, she had been too busy for him during the day, but he still remembered the stories that she told.

After the moon had risen over the lake, he would always climb into his bed and ring a bell. After a few minutes, his mother would come up to his room, kiss the top of his forehead and tell him a story of Morgana le Fay, his great great great grandmother. She had been a great witch of the Dark Arts, greatly adored by Narcissa.

It had been years since those stories had ended, but Draco still knew in his heart that his mother loved him more then anyone knew. She appeared cruel and cold on the outside, but really she was a warm and bubbly person. He clung to those memories. They were what had gotten him through his school years. He had also found a book on Morgana, which he had smuggled out of school, now, buried in his trunk underneath his clothing

A knock at the door brought his attention back to the room. Standing in the door way was his father, a belt in his hands. Draco heard in crack as his father snapped it, taking a step toward him. He felt like running away, but he couldn’t. Malfoy’s stood up to their fears. Turning his back would result in…

He felt the sting of the belt hitting his face, felt the pain that it caused, but his heart didn’t respond. He stood there as his father lashed his face, he could feel the bruises forming tenderly over past bruises. His body ached as the belt smacked his arms and his chest, his lungs feeling as if they would collapse. He felt blood running down his face in streams, mixing with the salt of his tears, but he stood strong.

“Teach you to loose to a Mudblood!” his father screamed, lashing harder. His body felt limp, felt as if it would collapse at any time. Draco stopped thinking about it, picturing his mother’s face instead. The way her hair fell over her shoulders. The way her eyes glittered like diamonds.

It took a few moments for him to realize that he no longer felt the snap of the belt. Opening his eyes and wiping the tears away on his sleeve, he saw that his father had left the room. Stumbling over to the bed, he buried his face in the feather pillow and wept, his blood mingling in with the salty tears.

*~*

He hadn’t bothered to unpack his trunk, and he grabbed it on the way out the door, throwing in a few things that he would need. He had it all planned out in his head. First he would go to the vault and take enough to last him awhile. He would stay at the Leaky Cauldron until he found a place of his own, preferably out in the country, away from everything. He would stay there until word of his father’s death reached him.

But performing his plan would prove to be harder. As he crept past his parent’s master bedroom, he felt his face, the bruises forming on his forehead. Pulling out his wand and muttering a few words, he felt the bruises go away, but his face still stung.

He didn’t’ bother hiding the bruises littering his body. He would wear long sleeved shirts when with other people, avoid the public’s eye. He would no longer be a Malfoy, for fear of his father finding him. If he found that he had run away, and then tracked him down, he would be beaten by harder things then belts.

On his way to the vault, he encountered a few of the house elves that worked around the Malfoy mansion. They would bow their heads and avert their eyes from his. He ignored them, letting them go back to work. His father would hunt him down faster if he let any of the house elves go, though the thought was tempting. He had been in an uproar when Harry Potter had freed Dobby.

Shoveling handfuls of money into a bag, he closed his eyes and thought about leaving his mother a note. She would worry about him. He had no qualms with her, no need to run from her, but he decided that she wouldn’t be safe from his father if she knew where he was. No one was safe.

*~*

As he sat in the shade of the low hanging roof of Wally’s Wonderful Witchings, a shop holding foods of all varieties, his eyes darted up and down the street nervously. He still expected to have his father jump out behind him at any turn. It had been a whole week since he had left, but he still didn’t sleep from fright.

Yet his careful watching paid off for him. There was quite a variety of people walking about at this hour, most of them highly entertaining. Three hags, two of which had very crooked backs, hobbled past in a group, throwing menacing glances at anyone who looked at them. Then came a leprechaun, his green coat standing brilliantly out against the dull grays of the city. And then…

His eyes fell on the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. A girl, her long, deep brown hair tied into a braid, was struggling along with her packages. Just the way she walked incited him, though her face was covered. Getting to his feet, he walked over to her, a rare smile lighting his face.

“Hello miss, do you need some help?” Draco asked, grabbing one of the packages off of the top that threatened to topple off. She shifted the stack to look at him, blinking her eyes in surprise. They were a greenish brown and there was something else about them that simply pulled him in.

“Sure, take these,” she said, handing him the entire stack. He could feel his knees buckle under the weight of them all. What did she have in here, gold bricks? “My name is Robin Taylor. Yours is…”

“Draco Granger,” he said, wishing that he hadn’t. He had said the first thing that came to mind. Why had hers been first?

“Charmed, I’m sure. Help me get these to my car,” she said, walking forward. “Then you can buy me a drink.”

He watched her walk away with his mouth open wide, then quickly shook his head and raced ahead after her, a grin on his face. She was so cocky, so forward, so… his type of girl.

“You have a car?” he asked, catching up to her. She looked at him sideways, a small smile on her face. Flicking a strand of hair behind her ear, she dug through the pocket of her jeans, searching for something. After a moment, she pulled out a tube of lip gloss, applying it slowly.

“I’m not the contemporary witch,” she said, shrugging her shoulders slightly.

“Yea…” he mumbled, shifting the packages from one arm to the other. He didn’t care that his arms were going numb from the weight. Hearing her angel-like voice made it all worth wild.

*~*