For Dorrito’s Every Flavour Mood Beans. Drabble for 12/23.
*****
Depressed
It’s new, this thing. It’s new and it’s horrid. The days are nothing but long and empty, and it all seems pointless if he gives it much thought. There’s been far too much time for thought these days. He tries to conjure the familiar heat of anger, but it’s all dead now and there’s nothing for it. He looks to Potter for what he has lost, but even he is hollow now, his smile gone rotten around the edges.
The others have gone to dinner and Draco turns restlessly in the almost-dark, his mother’s letter unopened on the nightstand.
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