"Une personne rencontre souvent sa destinée sur la route qu'il a prise pour l'éviter."
"A person often meets his destiny on the road he has taken to avoid it."
-Jean de La Fontaine
Prologue
Draco Malfoy assumed after years of school bullying, months of being a Death Eater, and a prison sentence had smashed his social life to smithereens and nothingness. Goodbye, adieu, and sayonara. At least, there were no more hyenas loitering around with their mamas, seeking to snare the Malfoy heir in a matrimonial prison. It's a skill Draco had acquired more recently to count his lucky stars where he could find them. Apparently, as Draco stares at the disgruntled Barn owl on his breakfast plate, his social life had not been destroyed after all.
The owl hoots indignantly, waving the leg with an attached missive towards him. Its feathers are askew and sodden, signifying an arduous journey from wherever it was sent from to the Malfoy manor. Draco drops the kitchen knife he grabbed by instinct and unties the missive. The owl stays. Whoever wrote to him was expecting an answer back.
Whom could it be? The Wizengmot? Draco took in a sudden breathe, a lurching sense of nausea frothing in his stomach. Had the court suddenly deemed his punishment of a three-year trip to Azkaban and permanent-until-further-notice house arrest too lenient to fit his crimes? Of course, it was. His fellow Death Eater mates were rotting in their cells for life, while he had held a significantly longer end of the straw. The only thing that had saved his ass and his mother from getting the same punishments was from the support of Harry Potter, the "Chosen One". He had no allies in the court anyway due to the new roster of the court following the end of the war. The previous allies that were bought on the Malfoy wealth were retired or cowards unwilling to express their support to the sullied Malfoy name. Giving a wry smile at the vulnerability of his position, Draco glances down at the letter. And stares. The corner of his mouth drops.
Mr. D. Malfoy
Dining Room
Malfoy Manor
Wiltshire
Feeling a sense of horrible Déjà vu, Draco hurriedly turns the letter over. On the waxy surface of the seal, Draco can see a coat of arms engraved with a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake. Right in the middle- you couldn't miss it- is the letter H. With trembling hands, he opens the letter with the butter knife and begins reading. His eyes swivel right to left, then back again. Disbelief blooms in his eyes.
He reads the letter again. Slowly.
Then again. Slower.
The owl hoots impatiently, tapping its claws against the china under it. Finally, Draco tears his eyes from the parchment to send his most disapproving gaze at the bird.
"Sod. Off." He says carefully.
Giving him wide, affronted eyes, the owl screeches its reply.
Draco uses the butter to jab harmlessly at its breast. "Get out of my manor," he growls.
Spreading its wings with an owlish expression of outrage and chagrin, the owl leaves in a flurry of feathers. It doesn't forget to knock Draco upside the head in its retreat and dodges the toast the Draco throws in retaliation.
His appetite was officially spoiled. Draco glares at the letter in front of him, his eyes like slits. The letter stares, unimpressed, back. Draco mutters an oath. At the end of the parchment and in elegant script, the letter reads:
At your earliest convenience,
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress
Posted in AO3 and FF