Chapter 1. September Coming Home

Word Count: 2095

A/N: The placement of the Slytherin quarters are made with the Hogwarts in the first film, where it's on a rocky hill, right above the lake. The lake surroundings looks just like it does in PoA.

I have listened to some specific songs and taken inspiration from them while writing this chapter, and I'll do so every chapter. I will inform you which the songs are below, since I think they are important, to be able to get the exact feeling I've been trying to write.

City and Colour – Coming Home

City and Colour – Hello, I'm in Delaware

Enjoy.

As the moon and the sun greeted each other when they met at the horizon, Draco Malfoy woke up in his bed, tangled up in his sheets, almost falling to the floor as he tried to get out of his bed all to quickly. He did not know why he had such a hurry, and he certainly did not think of it until he saw the moon through the high windows of his room. Then he remembered the dream.

He'd been on a crowdy King's Cross Station, entering Platform 9 and ¾ in a hurry, afraid he would miss the train. Just as he ran through the wall and saw the train, it started moving. Parents and siblings were standing too close to the train, waving their children goodbye, for him to get past them and jump on the train. He'd been left behind. He'd missed the train.

Even when thinking about the dream, he could feel his whole body ache from the fear of it coming true. He'd had the same dream before, every year since his second year at Hogwarts.

It was the break of dawn on the first day of September, and he was finally going back.

Of all the beautiful places Draco had been in his life, and they were plenty, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the one that truly made him feel like he had a place in this world. By now it was more of a home than the Malfoy Mansion, with its numerous unused rooms, one looking just like the other. And they had the tendency of never becoming warm enough. Even in the summer, he'd have to light the fireplace in his room so he wouldn't wake up, shaking in the cold.

He was fully awake now, so he got dressed, warm clothes because he knew he would get cold on the way from his warm room to the kitchen, the only other room that would have a fire going at this hour. It was a walk that led through several floors, corridors and stairs. A stranger would never be able to memorize it the first time. He opened his door, and was greeted by a house elf, about to make his bed and clean his room. His packing though, was something Draco wouldn't let anybody else be in charge of, ever. He wanted everything in a certain order, and he didn't trust anyone to remember everything.

He decided to take the way through his mother's third floor library. It meant that he'd have to extend his rout, but he wanted to pick out one or two books for his train ride. He preferred his mother's library, it was mostly old wizard's tales and travel biographies, many of them several hundred years old. He liked to think thathe would be able to do one himself someday, travel around the world and see what it really had to offer him. Walking between the many rows of oak book shelves, he scanned the titles, many familiarafter searching the shelves over and over again through the years. He decided on a worn, old book about a witch travelling through India in the 17th century.

Finally down in the kitchen, the house elves prepared breakfast as soon as he entered. He preferred having breakfast in the kitchen when he ate by himself. It was a relatively small room and it made him feel less alone. He ate without haste, reading this morning's The Daily Prophet without really caring about what it actually said, he was just counting the minutes until he could leave. His parents would be within a few hours. The house elves cleaned away his plate and tea cup and wished him a good day, and he went up to his room to check his packing.

Harry Potter wasn't really a morning person. Neither was hea night owl. His sleeping pattern just wasn't what normal people's was. It was unpredictable really. It could be a result of his many vivid dreams. He was sure he dreamed far more than anyone else he knew. He also longed to go back to Hogwarts so much it hurt, which was the reason he'd had trouble sleeping all night. He was woken by Hedwig, who knocked harshly on the window of his room at the Dursleys with her beak, wanting to drop of the morning paper and go to sleep. Harry wouldn't mind doing the latter as well, but it was the first of September and he wasn't going to sleep late.

He got out of bed, grabbed a t-shirt on his way to the window, opened it, stretched his arms and yawned. He took the paper from the bird, patting her on the head, and skimmed through it. Nothing caught his interest, so he folded and threw it in the trash can. He knew that Hermione would bring her own copy to the train anyway. He tip toed downstairs, making sure no one was disturbed. Not because of respect for his relatives first of all, but because he treasured every moment he could be alone in his uncles and aunt's house, without them glaring at him or making bitter comments, the whole summer they'd been closing him off more than ever.

He made himself breakfast, smiling while he sipped his juice and ate his scrambled eggs. It was a clear and crisp morning, birds still flying around, singing to each other. He was still for a moment, listening to the sound, the lopsided smile growing even bigger. He was only a few hours away from going home.

Platform 9 and ¾ was as always crowded and smoky, warm and loud. Draco was indeed in time, and the Malfoy family was standing close to the wall, trying to avoid peoples intrusion, but not seeking to be invisible. It was not of Malfoy nature, they should take every chance to quietly stating their superiority.

His mother was talking calmly to him, not caring about anything other than their little group, holding his hand and telling him to focus on studies, to keep his connections and loyalties in the Slytherin house and, this she had told him many times during the summer, to please at least consider staying home a couple of years after graduating instead of going on the traditional world wide journey. He wasn't listening really, he had heard all of it, every year since he first went to Hogwarts, and he knew very well what his responsibilities were. He did not much care for them though, he put a minimum amount of energy on maintaining them. It wasn't that he did not like the power his family's position gave him, he just hadn't felt like abusing it any more the past few years. If he told his father this... he did not want to picture that.

It was almost time to board the train, and his mother kissed his forehead and told him one last time to take care and focus on his studies. His father pulled him into a hug, told him they would see him at Christmas and they said goodbye. He turned towards the train, trunk in hand, waiting for Pansy to say goodbye to her parents so they could find a compartment together. They found one almost in the back of the train, and they were alone when the train pulled out of the station. Even after writing to each other the whole summer, they still had a lot to talk about, this was their last year of school after all, and they had nothing but the future in their minds.

Eventually, Crabbe and Goyle found them and joined them. Draco had, after six years of their company, grown a little tired of the poor company they were. None of them had the same intelligence as himself and Pansy, so nowadays they mostly talked over their heads. They didn't seem to mind though, so he continued his conversation with Pansy until they fell silent, both smiling, and Draco pulled out his book.

Harry met up with Ron, Hermione and Ginny on the Platform, hugged them tight and laughing heartily. It was a joy to see them again, after two excruciatingly long months of more or less being isolated in Little Winging. He said goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and received a bone braking hug from both of Ron's parents, telling him he was more than welcome to stay at the Burrows for Christmas, and even after they finished school next summer. Mrs. Weasley began to cry when students started filling the train, and the train's smoke grew thicker. Her two children hugged her tightly and told her not to cry, thatthey would see each other again at Christmas, even if it was a long time from now.

The four of them went on the train, finding Luna and Neville in a compartment in the last wagon. It was so simple to be with them, not having to be the centre of attention, but not being ignored either. He could just have comfort in being with hisfriends, just being Harry. Luna and Neville told them about their summer, making the others laugh as Neville told him about a forced fishing trip with his uncle and Luna kept surprising them with all kinds of magical creatures she'd been discovering and keeping as pets – none of them were familiar to Harry, but he did not care, he appreciated Luna for being herself, even if she made little sense most of the time.

It was when the landscape changed from open fields and green hillsides to forests with old trees and steep, rocky slopes, with rain clouds hanging low in the air and they all started to feel hungry, that Harry decided to take a walk through the train. He liked doing this every year, looking at all the students, all though he wouldn't stare, just take in the emotions hanging in the air, see friends meeting again after the summer and notice friendships take already taking form amongst the first years.

He walked towards the front of the train, taking his time. He did not care for his hunger that much right now, he was looking forward to the welcoming feast in the great hall later that evening, rather than his home made sandwiches.

He was making his way through the third to last wagon when his sleeve got caught in a door handle, and as he tried to free himself, the train swayed and the accidentally opened the door, pushing all his weight against it and he stumbled in to the compartment. There were four pair of eyes meeting his. Pansy Parkinson, who looked mildly surprised for a moment, but she fixed her face into to a look of boredom, pursing her lips. Crabbe and Goyle, who didn't seem very interested, they kept chewing down their food down as Harry looked around in the compartment. And then there was Malfoy. A book in his hands, looking like it was several hundred years old, with his mouth slightly open and a confused and almost scared look on his face that didn't disappear as Harry regained his balance and got loose from the handle and said, hesitating "Right then.. I'll go now." and closing the door quickly. Odd. Where was the snarky comment, the spite that always lurked in Malfoys voice and manners?

He returned to his friends instead of continuing. When they asked why he was back already – they were well accustomed to his yearly ritual by now – he just said that he was too hungry to continue. Harry's smile returned in no time as they ate lunch and talked the remaining time of the train ride.

The dinner after the sorting ceremony was always the best meal of the year. And it was also the one he regretted eating the most afterwords. There were more dishes than he could think of, never ending, and the pumpkin juice he'd been missing the whole summer kept filling up his enchanted glass. And when he thought he couldn't get any more down, it was time for desserts. Dumbledore's speech was the last thing before heading up to Gryffindor tower, and this year, just as any year, he fell asleep almost the same second he laid his head on his pillow after talking to Ron Neville, Dean and Seamus well into the small hours of the night.