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Good night

Life.. Such a tender thing to wrestle with. One slip and you've had it. Death.. Like life, apart from the part where it's the exact opposite.
A pale hand ran over a blade of metal. Darkness engulfing it's owner. Fingers danced softly over it, the male above examining it with great detail. A candle flickered as a silent breeze passed through an open window. Only the moon illuminated this act of force. A blonde male, cold, icy blue eyes glancing over the object before him. He cast a shifty glance skyward, outside the stars seemed to sneer at him. Draco Malfoy sat in the Slytherin boys dormatories, so quiet. So alone. It'd be so easy. No-one would ever have to know...
He lifted the sleeve on his dark green, silk bathrobe and smiled. Examining his pale skin, blue vain pulsating softly as his hand drifted over it. Eyes shifted to the dagger before him. It had a metal snake coiling around it's handle, the blade seemed pure silver, so sharp..
Outside rain started to fall, Draco tilted his head back and closed his eyes, landing on his bed with a soft flump. What was he thinking? He pulled his sleeve down and emitted a quiet huff. A smirk seemed to dance across his face as he lie back, green bed sheets caressed his light figure.
"Perhaps tomorrow Draco. Perhaps tomorrow.." He whispered to himself, sitting back up and taking the dagger, placing it under his pillow and nodding. He stood up and walked over to the shower room.
Silk glided off of his soft, pale skin as he hung his bathrobe up on the inside of the door, eyes glancing to the shower, then to the marble jacussi. He paced to the shower, fingers running through his silver-blonde hair vainly and turned the shower on. Then the jacuzzi. Slytherins were to live in luxury, so why not tonight? He heaved a great sigh and stepped into the shower, warm water pouring down onto his naked form, he caressed himself and leant against a tiled wall, heaving another sigh.
Draco Malfoy was a Slytherin in his sixth year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and lately life had undergone a turn for the worst. Draco closed his eyes and dropped his head as he thought to himself. Harry Potter, such an annoying brat. Why pay attention to him when it was Draco who held true talent, and true sexiness, of course. His father had recently undergone a dire mood change, that was why he was staying at Hogwarts this Christmas, even if it did mean that he had to put up with that Potter. He smirked to himself and reminised the events of the previous day. This resulted in a slight burst of laughter from Draco's drenched form.
"I hate you Malfoy.." Harry had said.
"Love you too Potter." Draco had replied ,with the voice that one would only use to a loved one. Draco loved being so sly, and so beautifully and tactically smug. Yet the thought of home brought a cold shudder to Draco's heart. His Mother had begged him to come home this winter, but Draco had refused. He frowned as he thought of her and what his father must be doing to her.
"There's nothing left for me here.." Draco thought as he took his naked form out of the shower, wrapping himself in a green towel, embroidered with a silver snake, the Slytherin mascot. He shook his head and drained the jacuzzi, not particularly in the mood now. He watched the water slowly move down the plug hole before closing his eyes and turning around, dropping his towel on the floor, silk bathrobe once more caressing his naked form. He sighed and tied it up around his waist, masculine chest showing slightly. He pushed open the bathroom door and looked around the dark, empty room. Christmas just wasn't the same alone.. He was the only sixth year Slytherin staying over the holidays, joy. He rolled his eyes and walked over to his bed, closing the window, a small gust of wind blew out the candle. He lifted the satin covers from the bed and lie on the comfortable matress.
What was he thinking? Christmas is great alone... Kind of.
As Draco drifted into an uneasy sleep, plagued with nightmares and horror, the rain outside continued, pummeling against the windows and bringing a dark feel to the castle.
A light rustling awoke Draco. He blinked a few times before his vision un-blurred. He looked around, at the end of his bed was some breakfast, toast and milkshake. He smiled, the only good thing about them damned house elves was that in the winter, if you'd missed breakfast, they'd bring it up for you.
After eating, Draco lie in bed for a good few hours. His hands reaching under his pillow every-so-often, the cold and sharp blade comforting him. Pricks of blood dotting his fingertips as he prodded the blade lovingly.
His mind was set on one thing today, and that wasn't to take a dip in the jacuzzi, that's for sure. His eyes seemed to glaze over with a sort of madness one could only achieve after staying in Azkaban, the wizard prison, for many years when he thought of what he could do with that knife.
After a short while longer, Draco lifted himself from the comforts of his bed and dragged himself, fully clothed, down to the Great hall, just in time for lunch.

In the great hall, Draco sat on the Slytherin table amongst a few first through to seventh year students. He took a good look around, the hall was filled with mostly Gryffindors. Potter, Weasley, that mudblood, Granger and Potter's little fanclub, that camera boy and female Weasley, Gilly, or whatever her name was. He didn't really care much, he noticed Weasley staring and sneering at him, that gangly freak. He rolled his eyes and picked up a large, turkey sandwich and commensed with his lunch, all the meanwhile his mind was fixated on the metal blade upstairs, under his pillow.
Suddenly he didn't feel like eating too much. He stood up and quickly walked out of the Great Hall, passing Harry;
"Potter."
"Malfoy." They sneered at each other. Malfoy grasped at his stomach with one hand while the other steadied him up against the cold, dungeon walls as he made his way down to the Slytherin common room.
By the time he got there, he was so double bent that he was nearly on his knees. He threw himself at a leather sofa and caught his breath, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.
"What is wrong with you Draco?" He mumbled to himself, eyes opening to slits, fixing on the burning fire on the other side of the room. "What is WRONG with you.." He repeated, placing a hand on his head before sighing, letting his hand hang limply off of the edge of the sofa.
After a short while, he sat up and rubbed his head.
"Hey Draco." A female Slytherin walked through the common room, smiling warmly to him. Her voice was vaguely comforting.
"Hey Devon." He mumbled, rubbing his head softly, eyes going in and out of focus on the fellow sixth year.
"'Swrong?" She asked, seating herself on one of the armchairs.
"Nothing... It's just--" He sighed and shook his head. "Nothing." And walked up the stairs to his dorm' muttering to himself.
He threw himself down onto his bed once more and curled into a foetal position. Eyes tightly closed he ran his right hand through his sliver-blond hair, thinking to himself. His left hand drifted slowly upwards once more, the cold, comforting dagger blade warmed his icy heart.
Eyes remained close as his hands caressed the metal, examining and exploring it's crevasses.
"I pity you Draco.." He whispered to himself. "You're so weak... So predictable." His voice steadily got louder. "I loathe you Draco, every inch of this body and mind achieved through pure hate, I HATE YOU." He continued to fondle with the dagger. "If you must think of yourself as this sly and sexy image, you could at least show how low you are. Draco, you are scum, loathsome, caniving SCUM!" His voice inclined to a yell, he grabbed the dagger by the blade tightly, it cutting into his pale skin. An image of pure hatred crossed his face, crimson blood spilling from his hand, his breathing slowed down, the pain draining him. His eyes still remained shut, a crystal tear draining from one. Slowly making a pathway down his face, followed by another. Draco thrust the dagger back under the pillow and lie on his front, hand wrapped in the satin sheets, blood staining them as it still poured from the deep cuts.

Crimson blended with an icy blue as dawn spread over the skies outside of Hogwarts. Draco lie in the same position he was the night before. He was mumbling in his sleep.
As light broke through a small gap in the curtains the sleeping teen stirred. He lie on his side for a while, wishing he was back in his peaceful dreams. There was one way that he could sleep forever..
He sat up, leaning on his wrist as he did and emitting a quiet "Ouch.." He rubbed it, the green, satin sheets were covered in blood from where he had cut his wrist. He rubbed it and sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor and growling under his breath.
"Oh Draco. You are so weak.. And so stupid." He moaned as he hit his wrist accidentally. "You should be greatful for this pureblood, not loathe it as you do yourself." He sighed and lifted his form from the bed, unclothing himself and walking into the bathroom.
He turned on the shower and yawned widely. His eyes closed as he washed his hair, a lather forming between his cold hands. The water trickled down his chest and back, immersing his body in warm liquid; that for once, was't blood.
After a shower, he wrapped himself in one of the fluffy, green towels and walked out of the bathroom, he threw himself onto his bed and sighed. A warm lump rubbed up against his leg, he lifted his head long enough to see that it was his cat, Silver. The black ball of fur purred softly.
Draco growled, picking up the knife, removing a vial from under his bed. He dug the knife into his wrist, the blade piercing his pure pale skin. He pushed it deep, touching into a vein, not unlike the night before. He opened the vial and let his blood pour into it. He kept cutting it until the vial was full. He placed the stopper in it and growled again.
"So weak..." He stroked his cat, crimson blood not making any difference on the feline's dark colours.
After a short while Draco ventured out onto the grounds, the crisp, white snow angrerd him. So pure, so beautiful, so pretty, so very unlike hiself; in his own opinion. He found a place to lie down by the river and drew his cape around him. He slung a bag off of his back and opened up the contents. He took out a sketch pad and a pencil and started crafting a work of art.
As the snow started to fall once more, Draco stayed still, he kept drawing.
A long while after, Draco put the pad and pencil back into his bag and slowly made his way back to the castle.
By the time he was back it was seven pm. Draco sighed and lie on his bed again, placing his cloak on the floor. Silver was still there.
Draco lie silently as he stroked the cat, it's warm fir, comfortable pulsating against his wrist was strangely welcoming.
He reached to the table next to his bed and picked up his glass of water, talking a long sip. The cold liquid tingling his dark throat. Yet there was something strange about the taste of the liquid, slightky... Sticky. He reached over to his wand.
"Lumos," He whispered, quietly, as not to wake his sleeping cat.
He looked over to his table, the first thing he saw was his water; still half full.
Secondly, her saw his hands, illuminated by the wand-light. They were dark red.
Thirdly he saw his potion vial. The vial was open, and half full...
Draco Malfoy had just drunk half a vial of blood.
A his own blood.

"Mister Malfoy..." A cold, slightly drawling voice echoed in Draco's ears. "Mister Malfoy wake up, this instant." It demanded. Draco blinked to clear his vision and jumped. A tall man, cloaked in black was standing over him. Professor Severus Snape, the Potions Master. His long, greasy black hair was nearly touching Draco's face, his greasy, slightly hooked nose just inches away from Draco's. He withdrew and stood tall by the side of Draco's bed.
"Pr.. Professor Snape!" Draco exclaimed. Slightly shifty, he wrapped his wrist in the bed sheets.
"Another sleeping draught I see?" Snape lifted up the half-bottle of Draco's blood. Draco nodded and gave a fake smile. "I see..." Snape's voice told Draco that he knew he was lieing. Draco shifted on his bed awkwardly, drawing his sheets tight around his naked form. "Mister Malfoy, would you care to do some.. Evening work with me?" Snape queried, he could see the look on Draco's face was not too pleased, but he knew Draco would never say no to his head of year, he smirked. "You, being one of Slytherin's, and this school's, best students, and I know that you'd love to get some extra house points for Slytherin this year..."
"I... Uh.." Draco thought, extra house points, something that he could beat Potter at... "Sure.. Sir." He bit his lower lip.
"Great..." Snape smiled. "Eight PM in the great hall... You better be ready." Snape swept off, his black cloak whipping behind him as the door slammed. Draco let out a sigh of relief and untensed his muscles, letting the sheets fall back down to his lower chest. He had no idea why Snape wanted him in the great hall this evening, he just shrugged and went back to sleep.