Chapter One – Forced Admissions
Draco Malfoy was not looking forward to his last year at Hogwarts. For seven years he had been in power there, albeit maybe not within Gryffindor territory, but he was still feared none the less. Now he wasn't sure how he was going to fit anymore. Everything had changed. His family was disgraced, a father serving a short term in Azkaban and a mother under house arrest, the latter a gift from Harry Potter, or so the new minister, Shacklebolt, had informed him while ministry officials ransacked his home for further proof of the Malfoys' involvement with Voldemort. As if any further proof was needed, no, the ministry just enjoyed further ruining the lives of those who hadn't chosen the winning side. To make matters worse, his mother had all but forced him to get back onto the train this year with the handful of other students returning to Hogwarts to become the only group of eighth years in Hogwart's history. McGonagall, the newly instated Headmistress of Hogwarts had announced at the beginning of the summer that Hogwarts would accept any students who had wanted to repeat their seventh year, or those who had missed it altogether like Dean Thomas and the Golden Trio. Malfoy hadn't thought he needed to repeat anything, but his mother kept insisting that he deserved a normal school year after the seventh year he had been forced to experience before. He had been out of school more than in his mother had argued, which had simply fallen on deaf ears. It wasn't until she started to cry that Malfoy had finally caved. He might not have liked the idea, but he liked the idea of causing his mother any more pain even less. And so now he found himself alone in a compartment on the Hogwart's Express. Goyle's sleeping form on the seat across from him didn't count as company. Malfoy hadn't even wanted him in the compartment in the first place, but Goyle simply didn't know anything else besides following Malfoy. They were the only two Slytherins their age to return to Hogwarts this year besides Blaise Zabini, but he too had chosen to ride in solitude. Running his hands through his hair, Malfoy attempted to ignore Goyle's snores as he stared out the window. No, he was not looking forward to this year at all.
The Great Hall was bursting to the limit this year as a new fifth table had been added to the room. The faculty felt it would be better to separate the eighth years, physically and educationally. Yes they would all be studying for their N.E.W.T.'s, but since for most of them this year was remedial, they would be separated from the true seventh years who were also studying for their N.E.W.T's. Along with the table and class separations, a new dormitory had been allocated just for them. Just like any other one, the boys were in one room and the girls in the other with a shared common room. Draco Malfoy was going to have to sleep in the same room as the Boy-Who-Should-Have-Died along with his poor sidekick. Sighing, Malfoy absently twirled his wand between his fingertips as he ignored the sorting of the new batch of first years. Flanked by Goyle and Zabini, the three Slytherins sat apart from the other eighth years at their table. Whether they had chosen the solitude, or the others, Malfoy hadn't cared. He had no desire to mix with anyone this year. His side may have physically lost the battle, but he wasn't ready to cave in on every belief that had been instilled in him since birth. No, he had never believed in the true ways of Voldemort, murder, torture, and the like, but it still didn't mean he wanted to hug every mudblood in existence. No, Malfoy hadn't changed, he just didn't care anymore.
Once Yale, Evan had been sorted into Hufflepuff, McGonagall took the podium. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, and for our first years, welcome to your new home. Now I know this year is going to be a challenge to you all in more ways than one. The events of this past year will always weigh heavily on our hearts, but we must look towards the future, one that has us all unified. As you know, this year will be the first and only year that Hogwarts will have an eighth year class. Those of you who have made the decision to return, this year will be dramatically different from any other you have ever experienced, but more of that for later." Here McGonagall paused as she looked around the room. "This year I am pleased to announce some changes to our faculty as a result of the past year. This year I would like to personally welcome four new professors to our school." Malfoy glanced up as she gestured towards the new Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies, and Care of Magical Creatures professors sitting behind her. Smirking to himself, Malfoy realized that the oaf, Hagrid, was no longer sitting at the faculty table. "First, I'd like to welcome our new Care of Magical Creatures professor, Charlie Weasley." Malfoy snorted and glanced back towards the Golden Trio sitting at the other end of the table. None of them seem shocked by this announcement; Weaselbee simply waved towards who Malfoy assumed was his brother. "Our former teacher," McGonagall continued,"Hagrid, has chosen to retire from Hogwarts to live with his new wife." It was here that Malfoy silently lost it and had to put his head down on the table rather than have everyone in the room hear his hysterical laughter. The thought of that oaf married; well it was simply more than he could handle with a straight face. It wasn't until McGonagall had lastly announced their new Defense the Dark Arts professor that Malfoy lifted his head from his arms. "George Weasley will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
"Oh not another fucking Weasley," Malfoy muttered to himself as he shook his head.
"Oy, what was that Malfoy!" Malfoy simply sneered at an angry Ron. Half standing, half being pulled back into his seat by Potter, Ron looked as if he was ready to lunge. McGonagall simply cleared her throat and glared as Ron slowly sat back into his seat seething as Hermione whispered in his ear trying to calm him down. Slowly Ron relaxed and shot her a small grin, nodding in thanks as he put an arm around her. Gagging at such an open display of emotion, Malfoy turned back towards McGonagall, who had once again began addressing the student body.
"Now I would like to make one more announcement before I dismiss the first through seventh years to their prefects. As you may or may not know, the task of choosing Head Boy and Head Girl each year is left to the sorting hat. Normally this is conducted during the summer in the headmaster's office as they determine new prefects, quidditch captains and the like. This year we decided as a change of pace to have the hat announce it at the opening ceremony." With that being said McGonagall once again asked for quiet as she turned towards the sorting hat. Sitting on its stool at the front of the faculty's platform, the aged hat cracked open its mouth and began reciting:
Through the history of Hogwarts
Every summer I am asked
By each and every headmaster
To perform a certain task
.
I need to find two students
Who possess some certain traits
They're needed to exemplify
What makes our school so great
.
It does not really matter
In what ways they truly shine
As long as they are special
I'm sure they'll do just fine
.
Now let me tell you students
This task is not so small
It nearly is impossible
To analyze you all
.
But I must do what I am told
And perform this large request
I must look at every one of you
And choose the two who's best
.
So once again I've chosen
These special two positions
And let me reassure you
This is not a quick decision
.
For your Head Boy I've selected
One who's cunning is an art
He's talented and special
And truly is quite smart
.
Your Head Girl will be his equal
In brains and in precision
She's also quite courageous
And brimming with ambition
.
Now students I will leave you
With your new Head Girl and Boy
My decision is quite final
It will be Granger and Malfoy
Finishing its speech, the Sorting Hat closed its mouth, its work done for another year. Everyone, faculty included, turned and stared towards the fifth house table. It was so silent you could hear a pin drop, silent that is, besides two very distinct groans.
'Well isn't this day just getting better,' Malfoy thought to himself. McGonagall had been the first to regain her composure and quickly dismissed the lower classmen, leaving behind the small group of eighth years. Walking towards the table, she stopped and addressed the table. "Now I know this is not the situation you all had imagined," McGonagall started. "But what the hat said is true, the selection of Head Boy and Girl are quite permanent, it will be up to you two," she gestured towards Malfoy and Granger, "along with the rest of the eighth year class to lead the example for this new time. Only by unifying and working together can we overcome the past and build a future. Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy, I am expecting you two to lead your fellow students throughout the next year. I know this will be difficult … but you two were chosen for your abilities, please keep that in mind and try not to kill each other." Ron laughed into his butterbeer at McGonagall's last statement causing everyone besides the Slytherins to join in. Malfoy rolled his eyes and glanced at Zabini finding a similar bored expression. 'Work together with this group, right.'
"Now I suggest you all head up to your new dormitories as well. You'll find them on the seventh floor across from the statue of Barnabas the Barmy. You are all dismissed." Malfoy immediately felt a sense of dread as he recognized the location. It was where his life had almost ended, both emotionally and physically. When it had been decided he was to return to Hogwarts for one last term, he had sworn to himself that he was going to avoid that room at all costs. It was nothing but trouble. Swearing to himself, he gestured towards Zabini and Goyle, stood up, and left the hall. As the three boys started up the stairs, Malfoy heard footsteps quickly attempt to catch up to him.
"Malfoy wait!" Stopping and turning slowly, Malfoy paused on the first step, glancing behind him. Granger stood there, panting from the quick exertion of catching up to them. Arching an eyebrow, he nodded towards Zabini and Goyle, allowing them to continue on without him. "What do you want Granger?" he asked turning back to the girl standing below him.
"Look," she began, "I know this whole situation isn't going to be easy. But I think we need to do as McGonagall said and just attempt to work together this year." He couldn't believe what he was hearing. She honestly thought he was going to listen to the old bat.
"Granger, I get you're excited and all about adding another item to your list of achievements, but get over yourself. Yeah you won, doesn't mean anything else has changed." Leaving a shocked girl in his wake, Malfoy started climbing the stairs, truly smiling for the first time that day. 'Well at the least the little mudblood is good for something.'
Climbing the stairs, his smile fading with every step he took, Malfoy slowly reached the seventh floor. Reaching the statue, he paused and took a deep breath. Walking back and forth three times, a door appeared allowing Malfoy to enter his new common room. Rather than having one color theme, the room was adorned with ornaments from all four houses, with the school crest hanging above the fireplace that was currently ablaze, filling the room with warmth. Throwing himself onto the main couch that faced the fire, Malfoy stared into the flames, contemplating the last few months. His summer had not been easy. Having to deal with the ministry raids and his father's sentencing had left Malfoy weary. Malfoy Manor had never been an easy place to call home, but this summer had truly been the worst. Idly rubbing his left wrist where the dark mark would forever lay, Malfoy closed his eyes repeating the words of the Sorting Hat in his head. 'Who's cunning is an art. And look at where it's taken me,'he ruefully thought to himself. 'Ruddy old hat, pairing me off with Granger like that, extra responsibilities with a constant headache was not what I signed up for this year.' Sighing deeply, he sat up dropping his head into his hands, covering his face with his slender fingers. "What am I going to do," he whispered to himself.
The next morning Malfoy awoke to the most horrible noise he had ever heard. Swearing to himself, he flung open the hangings to his four poster bed finding Potter sitting in the bed next to his wearing an amused expression at Malfoy's sudden appearance.
"You'll get used to it," he said simply as he nodded his head towards the bed that housed Weasley.
"You mean that noise is human?"
Potter chuckled as he replied, "no more so than your friend Goyle. But like I said, you'll get used to it. That or invest in a good set of earplugs."'Earplugs? Who the hell plugs ears?' Malfoy thought to himself. Seeing the confused expression on Malfoy's face, Potter simply shook his head. "Forget it, muggle thing. But anyway, since you're up I wanted to say something."
"Whatever it is Potter, I'm really not in the mood." Malfoy couldn't believe it, first Granger and now Potter. What was it with everyone wanting to talk? He was Draco fucking Malfoy. He didn't have chats with Gryffindors.
"Look, I don't really feel like talking to you either. But I'm trying to not have a miserable year, so just do me a favor. Don't piss off Hermione any more than is really necessary when you guys are doing your Head stuff. She gets really fucking annoying when she's pissed about something. And now that's she's with Ron, if he has to hear about anything, than I have to hear it too. I have enough to worry about with dealing with my own relationship; I really don't feel like hearing about how much of an ass you are." With that said Potter got off his bed, and as he was already dressed, left the room. Malfoy couldn't believe what he had just heard. Shaking his head, Malfoy got up from his own bed and proceeded to get ready for the day.
Twenty minutes later down in the Great Hall, Malfoy was still mildly shocked at the conversation he had had with Potter. Looking in their direction Malfoy saw Granger talking animatedly about some topic while Weasley attempted to follow along at the same pace. He just couldn't understand the attraction. Yeah the mudblood had grown-up in the past seven years, but that still didn't change the fact that she never seemed to shut the hell up. Directing his gaze towards Potter, he saw him attempting to communicate with the Weasley girl over at the Gryffindor table. That girl had also grown since he had first met her at Flourish and Blotts all those years ago. No matter, blood traitors weren't really his thing either.
"So what're you gonna do now that Pansy's not here for your bidding?" Zabini interrupted Malfoy's thoughts.
"Whatever. She was only ever a convenience anyhow," Malfoy responded. That was another bitch he didn't feel like thinking about. Parkinson had only one thing going for her, and Malfoy had grown bored of it by the end of last year. Sure he was now Draco Malfoy the former death eater, but he was still Draco Malfoy. It was only a matter of time before some girl let her curiosity get the better of her and approached him. Parkinson hadn't been the only girl to do so in the past few years, in fact, over the years Malfoy had lost track of how many girls flocked to him on a nightly basis.
"Heh, look, the mudblood's staring at you again." Zabini lazily raised a finger and pointed down the table where sure enough Granger was staring at him. Staring back, Malfoy arched an eyebrow as he made eye-contact, forcing her to quickly look away. "She's been doing that off and on since you sat down."
"Really?" Malfoy hadn't even noticed. He'd still been reeling from Potter's request when he sat down.
"Maybe she'd be willing to help you out now that Parkinson isn't an option. Weasley can't be that good. I mean come on." Malfoy glared at Zabini as he and Goyle laughed at the idea. Ignoring the look Blaise continued, "Yeah she's a mudblood, but look at her. As long as she kept her mouth shut I'd have a go." Malfoy glanced back at Granger watching her attempt to resume her conversation with Weasley.
"I doubt that I would ever be that desperate Blaise," Malfoy drawled. Zabini simply grinned.
"Who said that'd be desperate? The way I see it is that you'd be achieving the impossible."
"Oh no Zabini." Malfoy shook his head. "I am not being sucked into another one of your bets. You want the mudblood, go ahead and take her from Weasley. But don't attempt to get me involved. It's bad enough I have to do extra duties with her."
"Just admit it though; if she was a pureblood you'd consider her." Malfoy considered the statement, once again glancing back at her, forcing her to look away as he caught her staring again. "With the way she keeps staring it looks like she's considering it too," Blaise continued.
"Now that I highly doubt," Malfoy replied. "She's just pissy that I called her a mudblood last night."
"If that was the case she'd look angry now wouldn't she? Admit it. You'd fuck her."
Malfoy closed his eyes and forced himself to take a breath. He had to keep calm before he did something stupid like punching Zabini in the face. "Fine, if she wasn't a mudblood, and she managed to keep her mouth shut. Then yeah, whatever. I'd make her a notch in the bedpost so to say."
"Now was that so hard?" Malfoy glared as Zabini laughed. Merlin, it was only the second day. This was going to be a long fucking year.
A/N: First, obviously Harry Potter is not mine and so on. Secondly, I promise to update as often as possible. My schedule is pretty hectic, usually only allowing me to write around midnight and so on, and then on top of that I tend to edit and then re-edit my writing. But bear with me. I have an idea of where I want this story to go, especially involving character development as the romance slowly unfolds. Thanks for reading: hopefully you'll enjoy this as much as I hope to enjoy writing this.