Chapter 1

Let's get one thing straight, Draco Malfoy did not want to return to Hogwarts to redo his seventh year or eighth year rather. What the bloody hell is "eighth" year anyway? It's bloody hogwash that's what. Draco slammed his trunk shut and let himself fall onto his bed. He didn't want to return to the epitome of lost innocence. The place that only held dismal memories for Draco, a place of bad decisions and unabated rivalries. Mostly he just wanted to start over, move away from England and the aftermath of the war, but he was required by the Ministry of Magic to return to Hogwarts and receive his final NEWTs in order to be completely reprieved of his war crimes.

Narcissa Malfoy could always determine her son's mood by his arrival to the dining hall for breakfast. As a child he often came bounding in bringing along a sort a sunshine with him, he would stand on his tiptoes and plant a kiss on his mother's cheek, and if his father was in a good mood he would hug him as tightly as he could with his lanky arms. As he matured, he would strut in and as always kiss his mother and then nod in greeting to his father. During his sixth year however there was a change, Draco wouldn't strut in with purpose -if he even came at all- instead he seemed to slip in and slip out, never really being there. He wouldn't acknowledge his mother, or his father if he was present. He snapped at the house elves more than usual and most of the time he wouldn't even eat. And on the rare occasions that he made eye contact with his mother, she didn't recognize him, he was no longer her little boy. So, on this particular morning when Draco pressed a chaste kiss to his mother's forehead and barely mumbled a greeting she knew something was up.

"And what seems to be picking at you this particular morning?" she asked him as she folded the Daily Prophet and cast it aside. He picked up his fork and pushed his eggs lazily around his plate.

"Oh I don't know mother, have your pick. For one I have to return to a place that reminds me of every wrong choice I've made in my life, and there are a lot mind you, and not only that but every bloody person there thinks I should be thrown into Azkaban, and if I don't go back and complete the year I'll end up in Azkaban anyway. Right alongside my dear old fath-"

"That's enough," she cut off, "I understand that you don't want to go to Hogwarts, but don't go on pitying yourself when you have it much better than others do. What the Ministry is doing isn't a bad thing in hindsight, okay so yes they're forcing you to go back, but only so you can finish your education. Otherwise, you could end up like me, on house arrest, or your- your father who currently resides in… Azkaban."

"Which he rightfully deserves."

"Your father may not have made the best choices-" Draco scoffed, "-but he is still my husband and your father, and as long as you are under this roof, you will continue to be respectful." Draco resisted the urge to retort, so instead he nodded and began to stab at his sausage.

"So, are you all packed and ready to go for tomorrow morning?" she asked trying to ease them out the heavy silence. Draco started to shrug, but decided against it realizing that doing so would only rile up his mother again.

"As packed and ready as I'll ever be," he grumbled.

"Good," Narcissa cleared her throat before continuing, "well seeing as I won't be able to accompany you myself, I've arranged for one of the house elves to escort you," she said while removing her napkin from her lap.

"Mother, I am eighteen, I am perfectly capable of getting to King's Cross on my own,"

"Yes, but you surely can't apparate right in, what with all of the muggles, it's better if you are esco-"

"I will be fine," he said through clenched teeth, "tell the elves not to bother with me tomorrow, I'm an adult and you might as well start treating me as such."

"Very well then," Narcissa stated after she got over the shock of her son's tone. She stood from her seat and walked around the table to her son's seat, pressing a long kiss to his temple.

"I guess my little boy is all grown up now," she muttered to herself while she adjusted his shirt collar. Draco instantly felt a ball of guilt bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but as he turned to apologize he was met with the sight of his mother's billowing robes sweeping out of the dining hall. He turned back to his food, and thought of all the turmoil this year was going to bring him.

"Bloody hell," he muttered.

It was taking Hermione Granger every ounce of control to not hex the two boys sitting across from her.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU TWO AREN'T RETURNING?" she shouted. She hadn't meant to in all honesty, but the fact that they had the audacity to relay their "good news" with huge goofy grins on their faces wasn't helping. At her outburst, Harry winced and Ron started to cover his ears before Harry elbowed him to halt his motion.

"Look Mione-" Ron started before he was cut off by Hermione's bone-chilling, and eerily stern reply to not call her that. He quickly shut his mouth and looked to Harry to take over.

"Hermione," he gulped and began tugging at his shirt collar as if it were choking him, "I understand you're very upset-" Ron snorted at that, "but, we only told you now because one, we kind of knew you'd react like this, and two, well we knew how important going back was to you, and we didn't want you to feel uh obligated to start your career just because we are"

"Or you two just didn't want me to tell you how stupid your choice is. I- I can't believe this, so when did you guys finally decide you weren't going back? Was it before or after our trip to Diagon Alley to restock our school supplies?"

"We only really decided right after the trip, honest Mio- um Hermione," Ron started, "but, look at it this way, me and Harry already know we want to be aurors- the war showed that we're bloody well qualified enough for it. It wouldn't make sense to start auror training next fall when we can start this fall," Harry nodded in agreement with what he said.

"I- I, why didn't the two of you tell me earlier?" Hermione asked, her anger diffusing completely. When she looked at the boys now the hurt in her eyes was evident.

"I don't- I I'm returning by myself?" she asked mostly to herself in disbelief.

"No, uh Ginny is going to be there, and loads of other people are returning Mione," Ron said quickly for reassurance.

"Yeah," Harry added quickly trying to reassure her, "Neville is going back, and so is Dean and the Patils, and uh and Luna will be there of course because it's her seventh year like Ginny um," he stopped when he realized he wasn't helping.

"And besides we'll always be an owl away, we won't be so busy that we can't write to our best friend," added Ron. Hermione scoffed at this and stood abruptly from the stool she was just on.

"Yeah, your best friend that was kept in the dark while you two planned this out," she turned away from them and started up the stairs of the Burrow to hers and Ginny's combined room. When Ron made to go after her, Harry pulled him back by his arm and told him only Ginny would be able to talk to her now.

Hermione couldn't believe this, or more so she didn't want to believe this. She felt the overwhelming loneliness crawl down her throat to rest its heavy weight on her heart. She was going to be alone, she felt alone. No one at school understood or went through half of the things she did with those two boys, and even they didn't seem to know her as well as she thought. How would she last a full year without them? She'd be a pariah when she returned. She never really got on well with most of the girls due to the fact that all of their conversations revolved around boys and makeup tips, her only female friends really were Ginny and Luna. And what would she even talk about with Dean and Neville? Surely not quidditch and herbology. This year was going to be a nightmare.

"Bloody hell," she muttered.