Loony Lovegood
All he ever did was read. It was embarrassing. No war, no sides to pick, no Potters to intimidate. Only a lonely, miserable wizard with too much time on his hands and a roommate that didn't know the meaning of the word boundaries. It was humiliating, and Draco took it all with the grace and maturity of a two year old. At least he was consistent.
He couldn't hide, even if he'd wanted to. His room was no longer the safe haven it had once been. So he'd wandered out to the ocean, wearing a pair of green swim trunks and a dingy white t-shirt advertising some cheap Muggle diner he'd never heard of, his pale legs bare and his eye squinted against the sun. His book was discarded in the sand, tissue-thin pages fluttering in the wind, abandoned while he took a moment to look out over the surf.
If he'd been a normal man, he would've thought it beautiful, sitting with his knobby knees drawn up to his chest and his grey eyes watching the water foam up over the sand. If he'd been normal, he might've considered going for a dip.
But he wasn't normal. He was a Malfoy, and at the moment he was imagining the ocean surging up and swallowing the island whole.
He couldn't hide, even if he'd wanted to. His room was no longer the safe haven it had once been. So he'd wandered out to the ocean, wearing a pair of green swim trunks and a dingy white t-shirt advertising some cheap Muggle diner he'd never heard of, his pale legs bare and his eye squinted against the sun. His book was discarded in the sand, tissue-thin pages fluttering in the wind, abandoned while he took a moment to look out over the surf.
If he'd been a normal man, he would've thought it beautiful, sitting with his knobby knees drawn up to his chest and his grey eyes watching the water foam up over the sand. If he'd been normal, he might've considered going for a dip.
But he wasn't normal. He was a Malfoy, and at the moment he was imagining the ocean surging up and swallowing the island whole.