Just a short piece about Draco Malfoy set during the Deathly Hallows. I was trying to experiment with writing in a different person, so would really appreciate any feedback you can give.

Also, I know it has been forever, but I haven't abandoned my other stories. I won't go into why I haven't updated them, but believe me I am trying to write the next chapters. Thanks for reading :)

"Hello Draco Malfoy."

You sneer in her direction as is expected of you, but otherwise try not to make eye contact with the girl.

At the beginning of the Christmas holidays, your Aunt Bellatrix had hoped you would relish coming down here daily. She'd thought the capture of one of your schoolyard "enemies" would finally encourage you to follow in her footsteps in a way being faced with unknown prisoners had yet to.

It had only taken her one day to announce her mocking conclusion that you are 'far too much Malfoy and not enough Black'. Something that she hasn't bothered to hide her disgust about since.

Now she continues to send you down here simply because it amuses her to see you uncomfortable and see your father's disappointment at your reluctance to torment an unarmed girl. When you were a child, that look was one you'd have done anything to erase from his face. Now it is just another thing that makes your lip want to curl in revulsion.

The only reason anyone has to enter the dank cellar cell is that no house elf bonded to the Malfoy family is permitted to enter it alone. Ever since something happened at the end of your second year at Hogwarts, your father has been a bit paranoid about the ability of the creatures to find a way around orders they may not agree with. To this day you still do not know exactly what occurred; only that it had something to do with Potter. As everything these days seems to.

"Have we got some pudding today Draco Malfoy? Hogwarts always serves the most delightful puddings."

"This isn't Hogwarts, Loony", you retort without thinking.

She doesn't seem to register your words but keeps on looking hopefully at the tray that the elf following you is holding.

As always, her complete disregard to the fact that she is imprisoned unnerves you.

You had never noticed the girl during your younger years at school, although you vaguely recall some of your housemates in the year below talking about a crazy Ravenclaw in their year.

She only really appeared on your radar in your fifth year. And that was only because she suddenly appeared on Potters first.

Still you learnt quickly that she had a different temperament to her new Gryffindor friends. Insults that raised Potter and the Weasels' hackles and could sometimes bring their mudblood girlfriend to tears seemed to have about as much effect on her as if you had spoken them in Gobbledegook.

When she took to smiling at you in the corridors of the castle however, or worse, passed you with a dreamy 'Hello', you quickly decided that ignoring her was for the best. Your sixth year had been hard enough on your sanity, without oddball friends of your adversaries acting like she was always happy to see you.

You busy yourself with heading over to the old Wandmaker lying in the corner of the room. Giving his leg a slight kick and hearing the grunt in reply assures you the once energetic man is still alive. Your family has already dropped significantly in the Dark Lords esteem, without letting one of the man's prisoners die in your care. You let out a further breath of relief when he pulls himself up into a sitting position to accept his meagre meal.

Though you'll never admit it to anyone, before you returned home you spent some time at school secretly studying basic healing spells; as you're not sure how much longer the old man will last in these conditions without intervention. With your father deprived of his wand, and your mother having spent the last twenty years working on her reputation as the perfect pureblood wife rather than any magical talents she may have once possessed, you know it is up to you to try and prevent Ollivanders death.

If the worst should happen, you know by now that none of the other Death Eaters would step in and help, thus staving off the Dark Lords wrath. None of them have bothered to conceal the fact that they are enjoying the fall of the Malfoy family after having spent so many years sucking up to the three of you.

"You look sad, Draco Malfoy. Maybe-"

"Stop saying my name!" You snarl before you can help it.

You have grown to hate the way it rolls so easily off of her tongue and always in that maddening calm voice. As though she weren't locked up, and periodically tortured by members of your family and their acquaintances, but was instead simply here to visit you.

"But how will you know that I am speaking you to if I don't address you by your name? Or would you rather I call you something else? I've heard Harry and Ron refer to you as 'ferret' several times but I thought they were being insulting. Unless, is that your private nickname with them? While they are away, would you like me to call you ferret instead?"

"What? No! I – no – just don't speak to me. Ever."

You are discomfited by the fact she can make you stutter and you just know that your face has flushed the light pink it always does when you are embarrassed. Thankfully it is too dark in here for her to see you clearly.

"It would be very rude if I didn't acknowledge you when you take time out of your holidays to come down here and bring us dinner every day. Plus you are a lot better smelling than that twitchy rat-like man and much more pleasant company than Mrs Lestrange. I only say this because she is your aunt, but I would consider having her visit a healer now the Aurors aren't searching for her. I don't know if you have noticed but I think her stay in Azkaban may have damaged her mind more than she has let on."

A laugh wants to escape you in what feels like the first time in forever at the fact that she is basically calling someone else crazy. You smother it quickly though as the last thing you need is for anyone to hear you seeming to converse with a prisoner in an amicable manner.

The Dark Lord's other servants may content themselves with merely mocking the fact that you lack their brutality but you know none of them will keep it to themselves if they suspect you of actually being kind to someone He has deemed an enemy.

Wanting to get out of this dreary cell and all the thoughts it inevitably brings up each day you snap an order at the elf to drop the tray and get out before turning to leave yourself.

"See you tomorrow Draco Malfoy."

Your shoulders tense but you don't bother turning back. No matter what she may think of you, if Aunt Bella hears your raised voice she'll assume you need help and there will be only one outcome from that for those now dwelling in your home. And while Lovegood may be a blood traitor, she's also just a loony kid that made friends with the wrong people.