1. Second Chances

The gravel crunched beneath her black heeled boots as Minerva McGonagall made her way up the path toward the foreboding manor; gripping a small package in her hand. She hoped this package held the key to the salvation of a certain blonde-haired boy. No, young man, she corrected herself. She knew her students had all seen too much to consider them children anymore.

As she continued up the walk, her mind drifted to the past three months. For many, these months had been ones of healing, mourning, and rebuilding. To the lone occupant of this house, however, they had been months spent alone as his life spiraled out of control. Finally, approaching the door, she took a deep breath and lifted the heavy knocker to make her presence known.

A loud 'pop' roused Draco from his sleep. "Dippy is most sorry to disturb Master, but Master has a guest. Dippy told her this time wasn't good for Master, but she insists it's most important." The small house elf cowered under the sleep glare Draco was aiming in her direction.

"Fine, show my 'guest' to my study. I'll be there in a moment." Draco growled back. The distaste of having a visitor intruding on his solitude was present in his voice. Dippy left the room with a small 'pop' signaling her departure. A moment later, Draco forced himself to get out of bed and put on some clothes.

Minerva turned when she heard the door to the study open, suppressing a gasp as she took in the sight before her.. Draco looked much worse than he had at the end of the final battle, his disheveled appearance was very different than the boy she had taught just the year before. His hair stuck up in every direction and his face had not been shaved in days. His usually tailored clothes hung off of his small frame, showing he had not been eating properly. But what Minerva found to be most disturbing, was the haunted look in his eyes. His once steel gray eyes were now dull and bloodshot. The bags under his eyes showing it had been quite some time since he had gotten a full night's sleep.

Upon entering the room, Draco went straight to a cabinet where he retrieved a bottle of Firewhisky and two glasses. He poured it into both glasses before offering one to the older witch. "No, thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I try to keep my drinking until after I've at least had lunch" she stated disapprovingly. Draco merely shrugged before downing the contents of her glass and taking a healthy drink of his own. He gestured for her to take a seat as he moved to take his own, setting his glass and the remainder of the bottle on the desk in front of him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Draco asked after spending several seconds in uncomfortable silence.

"Mr. Malfoy, I am interested in knowing what your plans are for the upcoming school year. I wanted to personally extend an invitation to you to come back and finish your 7th year. Will you consider returning?" Minerva asked while looking at the young man across from her.

"I don't see a reason to return. I appreciate your offer professor, but no one wants me there. I am a Death Eater after all."

"You had no more choice in your actions, Mr. Malfoy, than any of the other children whose life had been threatened. You are not at fault, and secluding yourself and drinking away your days is not a healthy way to live your life. I really must implore you to reconsider.." she responded passionately.

"I am not interested in your charity, professor. I have no intention of returning to Hogwarts, and no amount of persuasion on your part will change that fact." Draco responded, apparently wanting to drop the subject.

"I feared you might feel this way," Minerva spoke again after several seconds. "I kindly ask that you reconsider. You have until August 10th to give me your final answer. I do, however, have something I believe will change your mind." The older witch set the package she brought with her onto the desk between them. "I found this while going through Professor Snape's possessions. It's addressed to you."

Minerva stood and began to make her way to the door. Once across the room, she briefly paused and turned once more to her previous student. "Oh, and Draco," she started, calling him by his given name for the first time in the conversation. When he did not look up from the box he now held in his hands she continued, "Professor Snape also ensured that you are Head Boy upon your continuation of your education. I wholeheartedly agree and intend to honor his wishes. In the letter, he left he also wished to make sure you were aware that Miss Granger will be Head Girl. Please do not make this decision lightly. Even if you don't believe it, you deserve a chance at happiness. I look forward to hearing your reply. Good day, Mr. Malfoy." And with that, she left him alone with his thoughts and the small brown box.

It was a few days before Draco looked at the box again, looking down at the box in his hand Draco's mind wandered back to what Professor McGonagall had said. Why would Snape ensure he was Head Boy and why the hell would he make sure Draco knew Hermione is Head girl? Is it possible he had known Draco's most guarded secret? Draco shook his head, that was impossible.

Draco picked up the small package once more and carefully examined it. He could have recognized the potions professor's handwriting anywhere, it was definitely from Snape He had spent five years brewing potions from directions written on the board. Slowly lifting the lid, Draco stared at the contents, puzzled. The box held three small vials of memories and a little scrap of parchment. Picking up the parchment first, he once again saw the handwriting that was so familiar to him. The message itself caused him to draw his eyebrows together in confusion.

Draco,

Do not make the same mistake I did. It's not too late for you.

S.S

Draco's head was flooded with questions. Wasn't it too late for that? Hadn't he already made the same mistakes? He'd taken the mark and become a follower of a megalomaniac. He'd let prejudice cloud his judgment and cost him everything he had ever held dear. Now, he was just as alone as his professor had been. With his mother dead and father in Azkaban, he had no one. What mistakes were left to make?

Lifting one of the vials, he called for his elf. A moment later Dippy returned carrying the pensieve he had asked for and deposited the large stone bowl onto Draco's desk. Draco uncorked the bottle and dumped its contents into the pensieve. He watched as an image of a young Hermione Granger, second year perhaps, floated in the silver liquid. "Well, here goes nothing," he muttered to himself before throwing back what was left of his firewhisky. As soon as he bent forward, he felt the familiar pull as he fell into the memory.

Looking around he quickly realized he was in the Hogwarts library. He was standing in a small alcove near the entrance to the restricted section. It took him no time at all to find her. He'd recognize that head of bushy hair anywhere. He was not the least bit surprised to see her head buried in a book at the table she always sat at. He always knew he could find her there. Why would Snape want him to see second year Granger studying?

It was then that he noticed he wasn't the only one watching her. A small blonde-haired boy with hair slicked back, and steel gray eyes watched the witch from across the room. Draco watched as the boy got a look of determination in his eyes and made his way across the library clutching a piece of parchment in his hand. Before approaching the witch, the younger Draco schooled his expression into the sneer that everyone was so used to seeing, he then closed the last few feet of distance between them.

"You're in my seat, Mudblood," the young blonde sneered. Draco winced hearing his younger counterpart use a slur he hadn't used since his fourth year.

"Honestly, Malfoy I don't have time for this. I am very busy and this seat is free to anyone who wants to sit in it," she replied in the swotty tone Draco had become so accustomed to.

Draco watched as his younger self knocked all of Hermione's things onto the floor. "Watch who you disrespect Mudblood. Not everyone will be as kind to you as I am." The older Draco recognized that for what it was. Not a threat, but a warning. He also noticed his younger self no longer held the parchment. It was now laying on top of Granger's things that had been knocked onto the floor. "You're lucky I have somewhere to be," the young boy sneered before walking away.

Draco watched as Hermione bent down to pick up her things from the floor. She was so angry you could see the magic crackling in her unruly hair. He saw her pause when she noticed the sheet on top. Quickly picking it up, she began to read. Draco moved closer so he could also see the page, even though he already knew exactly what it said.

"A basilisk? Pipes?" He heard her whisper before she packed up the remainder of her things and quickly left the library, clutching the parchment in one hand and a compact mirror in the other. He assumed she was rushing off to tell Potter and the Weasel what she had found. Draco knew she wouldn't make it far. When he had heard she had been petrified, he was so sure he had failed. He also remembered squashing down the feeling that he'd failed her, and how he'd convinced himself that she wasn't the reason he was worried.

Draco felt himself being pulled from the memory and before he knew it, he was deposited back into his desk chair. His mind was racing. He still didn't understand what mistake Snape thought he could avoid making. Pushing his thoughts aside and grabbing the second vial, he dumped the memory into the pensieve and entered another of Snape's memories.

This time he was in the entrance hall at the bottom of the large staircase. He watched as a version of himself, slightly older than the last memory, quickly looked around. Once he was sure no one else was around, he approached the young witch crying on the stairs. "Weasley is an idiot," he heard his younger self say.

"Excuse me," the crying witch questioned, looking up with a tear-streaked face. He registered the shock on her face when she realized he was holding a handkerchief out to her. She eyed it suspiciously, before finally taking it and slowly dabbing at her eyes.

"I said, Weasley, is an idiot. He only ruined your night because he was pissed off he didn't have the courage to ask you, to begin with; some Gryffindor he is. You look good tonight by the way," he said looking down at her. Before he even registered what he was doing, he reached down and touched her hair. "Although I prefer your usual wild hair. It matches your personality better," he added just above a whisper. The older Draco had to laugh. He wasn't sure which of the teens was more confused by the admission.

"Um well, I should probably get going," Draco mumbled after the awkward silence that was left. The young teen didn't wait for a reply before quickly stalking away toward the entrance to the dungeons. Still looking at the scene before him, he realized his younger self never saw the dazzling smile that broke out on Granger's face. Just as he watched her start up the stairs toward her common room, he felt himself being once again pulled out of the memory.

Back at his desk, he quickly picked up the last vial and once again deposited its contents into the pensieve before falling into the final memory.

This memory was different from the beginning. He immediately recognized the hospital wing at Hogwarts, but it was darker than he'd ever recalled seeing it. Looking around, he saw the familiar sight of his blonde hair. He was laying on a bed at the end of the room. He could only see a little bit of the bed where the curtain had been pulled back. He quickly made his way over to where his younger self rested. Looking down at the young man on the bed, he immediately recalled when this happened. It was after his duel with Potter, in the bathroom sixth year.

Draco noted that he looked horrible. The color had drained from his face, and there was blood seeping through the bandages on his chest. He recalled Snape telling him, later, that they had put him out for a couple of days to heal. Why was Snape showing him knocked out in the hospital wing?

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a quiet gasp. Looking around, he couldn't see anyone. Then the curtains were drawn shut the rest of the way, Hermione seeming to appear out of nowhere. He watched as she quietly approached his bedside and tenderly brushed the hair back off of his forehead. Her eyes were welled up with tears, as she dropped her hand back to her side.

After a few seconds of silence she spoke, just barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry Draco. I told him that book was going to lead to nothing but trouble. You don't deserve to be here." She then surprised him by reaching out and grasping his left hand, in hers. That's when she noticed the black mark that stained his, otherwise, porcelain skin. After a sharp intake a breath she whispered, "what have they done to you? I know there is no way you wanted this. You're no Death Eater. Harry and Ron let prejudice cloud their judgment, but I know there is more to you than meets the eye." By this point she was full on crying.

The sight before him broke his heart. Here is this girl, that he had been almost nothing but cruel to for years, and she was by his side trying to bring him a little comfort, and it was all out of the goodness of her heart. There was more to his little witch than he had realized. That thought made him stop in his tracks. His witch? Could she be his? She obviously didn't hate him; she even testified for him when it came time for trials. Had he ever thanked her for that?

Draco was so caught up in thought he almost missed it when she spoke again, "we will win this war. I promise you that. If you can just be strong a little bit longer, you will get the chance for happiness. " Then she was silent again. He watched as she reached into the bag on her wrist and pulled out a handkerchief, his handkerchief, and wiped her eyes. She started to turn and leave, but stopped and stepped closer to Draco's still form.

The older wizard's breath caught as he watched her press her lips to his forehead. Then he heard her whisper "be strong; better days are coming Draco, I promise you that." And, with that, he watched her disappear before the curtain around his bed was, once again, pulled back. Once she was gone, he felt the all too familiar feeling of being pulled back from memory.

Back in his study Draco thought over the memories. Then, he thought back to how after the war it had come out that Snape was in love with Potter's Muggle-born mother. A sudden realization hit Draco, and he knew exactly what he had to do.

Minerva looked down at the letter that was just dropped before her. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face as she read it again.

Headmistress McGonagall,

I wish to come back this year to complete my education.

Draco Malfoy

Tossing the letter back on her desk, I knew he'd change his mind she thought, elated that the past wouldn't always repeat itself.

AN: So this was originally posted as a multichapter, but the plot wasn't well developed. I am reuploading it as a one shot. If the Muse hits I might expand it later. :)