Chapter Text
From the second that I got a mandatory letter back to Hogwarts for an eighth year I already knew it was a mistake. Hogwarts latest headmistress Mcgonagall decided to have another eighth year due to Voldemorts tirade last year. That resulted all students had now gotten a repeat year. Which was mandatory for all students which was unfortunate to myself because it meant he had to spend time with an entire school of students who hated him. Great…
Still even with my better judgement I knew that I had to go. Which is precisely what lead me and my mother to the 9 3/4 train station from the Malfoy Manor, or properly by the government the Black Manor.
“Are you sure that you’re comfortable with this, Draco?” Obviously not.
“Of course mother. Don’t fret whatsoever It’ll be fine.” I hope at least. “I’ll be back for summer and then we can figure it out after this year.”
”Are you sure about this. It’s not your job to be… fretting over the entire family situation .” Who will do it if not me? I’m the only one left to take care of you.
“I’m not fretting at all, mother. This isn’t done for the ministry it’s done for us. It’s needed.”
”Yes, but-“
“If I am not allowed to fret you should not be allowed to worry about me. The teachers have assured me that any students who decide to… use me as their output for their anger will be punished.” Hoping that I don’t get hurt too bad before that.
“You will send me letters.”
“Of course mother.”
”And behave yourself.”
”Of course mother.”
”Okay, dear. Hurry along you don’t want to miss the train.” Which was a certainly tempting thought.
I give a curt and polite nod to my mother. Pushing my casual black robes down as I stride to the train door and step inside. I steady myself and tidy up a bit brushing invisible dust off my shoulders and coming my hair back. Still wanting to appear decent even if his family’s name and worth had essentially become dust. Leaving the empty compartment was difficult and I start moving through the carriages with stern steps trying to reach my companions cart and avoid the students who are most likely to try to hex him, such as any Weasly. Even still, keeping my head kept high and my movements assured, because that was who he had to be right now.
As I walk through the corridors I get hateful looks muttered, curses as I walk past which were expected and almost welcome. I’m even ready for the blank stares and tears that fall in my presence, my presence as a reminder of their loss.
Still, I look down and move forward because my words won’t shift their heart or remove their pains. I can’t fix what I’ve already done. I keep walking as I get hit in the back with some sort of toffee or hard candy from the trolley from what came in the direction of a few new fourth years. Well, that was tame. At least it wasn’t a hex. It’s almost anticlimactic. Still it convinces me to walk faster than I was. Weaving in and out of students as I keep my eyes on the ground which in forethought should’ve been a bad sign.
Just keep walking. Just finish this year not hard not difficult at all. Just keep your head down. It’ll be easy it’s what I have to do. I need to finish school it’s easier than last year. It’s going just fi-
“I’m sorry” The boy, who I knew who was if only from my luck alone, was now picking up some wrapped bags, something that looked almost like orange paper.
”My apologies” I look up to continue on my trek to the next trolley just to be face to face with Hogwarts golden Boy. That’s great just wonderful.
For the first time since the Trial, his own trial for Azkaban, Potter had testified for me. God knows why. Probably pity after all Azkaban already has my father. Now I can I finally get an actual look, because yes Potter was not my biggest concern at the time, even though it’s probably all The Daily Prophet can all speak about right now. Because Potter’s perfect of course. I wonder if they give him free newspapers to wipe his “savior” arse with.
Potter is currently wearing some sort of muggle attire, a top involving white cotton and baggy dark blue almost gritty pants. They look awful, and uncomfortable. Muggles and their fashion. His hair was messy, as always, definitely covering the notorious lighning scar. He also got new glasses which wasn’t that different from his old pair, yet it had bronze, or maybe gold, metal swirls on both side seemingly keeping the glasses in place. They framed his almost long face and his eyes, well his eyes were still just as striking as ever. They reminded him of when they first met. They were completely striking and defiant like you could almost feel the fire inside, the lightning. How ironic. He was on the floor eyes focused almost squinting from confusion and staring for some reas-
“Malfoy…. Ummm hi?” Wow, how astute. He really is still quite idiotic at the least. Though I suppose I’m one to talk. ”Are you okay?”
”Yes, of course I am. How a-” I almost ask, even crazier almost reaching a hand tentatively to help him up.
”Harry! They are stocked up on chocolate frogs! Do you want some-“
I should’ve ran had a strategic retreat when I had the chance. Malfoy’s don’t run.
Weasley opens the car door to see his friend on the ground and me, of course it’s me with my hand raised in front of myself as if I- oh gods- pushed Potter in front of me. I let out a long suffering sigh. Ugh. Of course I’m gonna get blamed by the Weasel.
I reach my hand in my back robe pocket to ready my wand for an incoming hex.
Weasley is almost just as quick bringing his wand to the front lightning fast.
”WAIT! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT MALFOY DIDN’T DO ANYTHING.” Harry yells. Of course he would come to my rescue he needs to be the hero still.
Ron looked to his friend for another confirmation and when Harry gave it with a swift nod he brought his wand down and helped his friend up.
I give out a sigh of relief at the acquiescence, it would be foolish to start fight at the first day back especially since his “fall from grace.”
“Watch yourself, Malfoy.” Weasley warns. Which earns him an exasperated eye roll.
“Well, of course.” I reply sardonically.
Still I take the warning as my sign to leave after all where you two Griffindors is a sign that others are also there, and Draco isn’t in the mood to fight a Weasel army. Almost like rats they travel in swarms. Begrudgingly also like lions, but two truths can hold.
Finally thank all that is holy. He ends up finally at the carriage with his companions, friends, not that he’d ever say it. Still even around his friends he had to keep his guard up he can’t let them see him as changed, they won’t see him as just another broken man from the war.
“Hey Draco!” Pansy practically squeals.”How was your summer!” Terrible.
”Fine. I suppose.”
“Sit.” I roll my eyes and oblige taking rest on the seat in front of her while staring through the windows at the rapidly changing landscape of mountains and fields we were passing.
“Did you hear about the new shop Diagonal Alley added it has the most wonderful variety of chocolates absolutely perfect. I brought some for you to try!” She pulls two out of her right pocket tossing them to me which, of course, I was able to catch I wasn’t a seeker for nothing.
Without further prompting I unwrapped the chocolate, not before checking for spells or poisons wandlessly and wordlessly, a trick I perfected last year. I trust Pansy enough not to tamper with my food, yet old habits die hard I suppose. I toss the chocolates in my mouth almost humming from the mellow controlled sweetness that oozed out, basically melting on my tongue. Gods these are good they might become one of my favorites. They remind me of old mischief in snow, yet the heat of a calm hearth during morning.
”Do you like them, Draco?”
”They are suitable.”
”HA! Suitable is a far understatement, perhaps your taste has become lessened.”
”I assure you my tastes in all things are superior to any other.”
“Wow same as ever Draco.”
”Likewise Blaise. Also, I had not included you in the conversation by asking your opinion.”
”Ouch, Draco that hurts my heart.”
”Blaise don’t lie, you don’t have a heart to hurt.” Pansy retorts.
”You are sure one to talk viper.”
”Well thank you.”
”Not a compliment.”
”I still can take it as one.”
”Ever the Slitherin. Pansy has anyone ever told you that you are insuff…
I zone out from the conversation after all it clearly doesn’t involve me anymore and, unlike Blaise, I don’t butt into conversation. I relax a little further into my chair and just sink into the warm atmosphere of the room with the honeyed lights and the smell of sweets in the air absolutely due to the sheer amount of candy Theodore and Blaise have stored for later.
Both of these cretins would buy at least half of the candy from the trolley and keep it in hidden places around the Slitherin common room in order to have snacks of candy throughout the course of the year at least until Hogsmeade. They would get their fill from there before repeating the process until Christmas and from so on and so forth.
Draco had used to be one for such indulgent as well but last year he had to mature into a man who would never consider such childish activities. Even now, it felt uncomfortable to get back into that mentality, it was almost like that Draco had died. Which was fair he deserved it after the atrocities he did during the war. The people he cursed and killed for a Lord with no meaning, no purpose but destruction and evil. He was truly trapped, despondent , but of course like everyone else the golden boy became his hope. He had no perception of him as any sort of hero, but he did believe he was a miracle, The Boy Who Lived. I ,like everyone, was hoping for the boy who burned so brightly, that he could dispel the darkness, the fear, the sorrow.
And he did, for all his faults Potter is a hope that I’m thankful for believing in, though I would never admit it. Especially because of Potter’s massive ego. And I should thank him, and apologize for all that I’ve done. Yet, I know it wouldn’t be worth it. I know that I’m not a part of the grand future of Harry Potter’s story. I was an obstacle and it would only be more trouble to make Potter think differently.
And I’m satisfied with that, it’s who I am after all. The antagonist to the wizarding world’s hope, an arrogant and prideful hope, but theirs after all.