Broken Skulls

Chapter III: Brooding Thoughts

Draco had been taken back to the Parkinsons and told that he would not be picked up, that he would leave straight from the Parkinsons to the Hogwarts Express. This was all fine with Draco, since he never enjoyed the mansion. Malfoy Manor was giant, and all of it consisted of the same material: stone. Draco doubted that it was originally carved out of a stone mountain, but it certainly could be.

Draco spent the rest of the time with Pansy, much like he did before his birthday, much to his dismay. What a bore she was! Eventually, he took a trip to Diagon Alley to get some of the newer supplies that had been asked for.

The Hogwarts letters had come two weeks after Draco's birthday for both Pansy and Draco. Draco was unsurprised to see that that Mudblood Granger had managed to become prefect, seeing how much of a stuck-up know-it-all she was. What did surprise him was that he had become the Slytherin prefect. Who chose the new prefects, again? That's right, he thought, the Heads of House pick from their fifth year students, and, knowing that Snape was always treating him right because of Draco's close family, it was only common sense that had him in this position.

Draco went to get his supplies a few weeks after the letters, making his trip the first and second of August. He took up a room in the Leaky Cauldron for later in the night and set out down the cobble brick road. Pansy was staying at home with her father, thank goodness, he was starting to get a little bored of her.

Later in the day, he was unpleasantly surprised to see the infamous trio, Potter, Weasley, and... Granger? She had changed a little.

He shook himself and quickly formulated a plan to wind them up.

"Little Potty, how nice to see you...or maybe not!" Completely simple but it got their attention at least. This was almost too easy.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry said through his teeth.

"Why, I was merely going to ask how much fun it was to kill that prat Diggory in that last task. Everyone knows you did it, putting on the mask of innocence just isn't going to do it this time," Draco drawled, relishing in delight at how simple it was to rile them up.

"Shut up, Malfoy, before I smash your face in!" Weasley shouted. Draco snorted.

"What's so funny, Draco?" Hermione said, putting sarcastic emphasis on his name.

"Oh, just the fact that Weasley here couldn't bust his way out of a soggy paper bag. He wouldn't have a chance against me, magical or non-magical." He flashed his trademark smirk and waltzed away.

"I'll take you up on that offer!" Ron shouted at his receding back.

Draco casually flipped the finger and skipped off. Nothing to raise the spirits like a taunting session of the inseparable "three."

As soon as the waning joy retreated, the darkness in his mind rose to the surface again. A little more than a month ago, he had killed a man. It wasn't as if he cared at all for Karkaroff, it was just the fact that he had killed someone. That was the first time that he had killed anyone, or even seen someone die.

The disturbing part about it was that he had liked it. Sure, Voldemort thrusting his hand into the dead body was a little disgusting, but it felt good to let out the anger. The pain that had been pent up for so long because of Lucius' constant torture had finally found an outlet. He knew a word for this. Pain for happiness...

"Masochism," he muttered to himself.

A witch who was standing near him in the shop he had wandered aimlessly into gave him a wary look and quickly left in a preoccupied manner.

The rest of the two days went by in a blur. Shopping and brooding on his thoughts took up most of his time. He saw some familiar students who weren't familiar enough for him to waste his time talking to.

Nothing eventful happened all through this time, leaving Draco to dwell on his sick thoughts, every innocent object reminding him in one way or another of intestines or blood.