The Thaw

Blackness fell as a blanket over Southern England on a warm June night, covering all traces of life in the Wiltshire Estates. The horizon was tinted red, and the night was brightened only by the moon. Blue echoed through the night sky and caught on clouds wisping slowly, carelessly through the sky. The fragileness of the night was reflected in a pool of water in the grandest estate in England. The Manor, as it was known to all who feared and respected the old wizarding family who had occupied the house for several generations, was covered in ivy and darkness. The many dark secrets of the family were looming out of sight, and for the moment, there was peace.

Without the sight of day, the faint scars which dark magic had left on the estate were quite invisible. The gloom that encroached upon all at the manor was deadened, nullified; in its stead, the hidden darkness became comforting. And that false comfort, for the one who sought it most, could not begin to be found.

Draco Malfoy was fuming. He fought off his shirt and plunged into the dark still waters of his pool. He did not care when all of the buttons on his otherwise perfectly crafted shirt came with him. He would pay for that too, he supposed, and the bitter demeanor that he was guarding all night came spilling out. Of course it wouldn't have if he thought there was any chance of him watching, but he was with his whores and would be for a few more hours, so Draco didn't care. He screamed underwater, cursing his father. Bubbles broke free from his mouth and rose past him in a flurry. He yelled until he was out of breath and found that his muffled sounds which barely reached his ears didn't do justice to his anger. He broke the surface and settled on ranting. This always at least put him in a better mood. And it can't hurt to be honest in the dark.

"He thinks he has the bloody right to tell me that I am a disgrace. Well that's him. He damn well lied to me my whole life. Tells me to uphold the family honor, that we don't bow to anyone that we are above everyone, let alone mudbloods, and I find out that the 'Lord' he is worshiping is a half-breed? And what is more, I am expected to lower myself to bow to that? To serve that?!"

It was all he could do to keep from screaming. But he didn't want another skin boiling curse, Of course they were Lucius' favorite to use on him because they didn't leave marks, oh no, he didn't want that writhing pain again. That was what drove him here in the first place. The only way to make it stop without a wand was cold water, which was why Draco convinced his mother to buy him a pool. That and it was relaxing. Draco treaded water, thinking, turning over theories, and musing over his options. Then, he was more or less as settled as he ever let himself be. One thing he had learned from Lucius was to never let his guard down and never let emotions control actions, and he damn well never did either.

He floated on his back until he felt himself start to dip more under the surface. He tried to relax into himself, and when that didn't ease the burning anger, he flipped over and swam laps until he couldn't feel his body or mind, all the while thinking: if I make it through this summer I'm going to do something with my life and not turn out like him. I'll show him what real honor is. I'll show him that I am stronger than he ever will be.