For Dorrito’s Every Flavour Mood Beans. Drabble for 12/25. Almost caught up!

*****

Devious

It was his father who’d taught him the value of being underestimated, though he’d only now truly understood. He brought them over slowly, never speaking of it outright. Distrust was easily bred in in Slytherin house, only a careful word or skillful look required. Even Crabbe seemed oblivious, not that he’d expected more. If Draco suspected, he’d shown no signs, though he was hardly in his right mind these days. He didn’t seem to notice the barely-hidden sneers, or even the frequency with which he ate alone.

A small-minded man might have called it revenge, but Gregory served something higher.

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.