Here's a very short prologue to a story that's been chilling out in my head for awhile. Music and writing stories are kind of my escape so I wanted to share this with you all. I hope that we can enjoy this ride together.
Ps: fashion and technology are present day.
Prologue:
It was mid afternoon in northern Scotland and from a bird's eye view the Hogwarts Express could be seen heading towards its destination. Draco casually leaned against the window, deep in thought and noticing but not noticing the scenery outside. In his left hand, a Prefect badge was gripped tightly and he rubbing small circles on it with his thumb.
Sitting, okay more like laying, across from the Malfoy heir was fellow seventh year and head boy, Blaise Zabini. He was causally reading today's Prophet copy. 'At least they're not spewing out straight garbage any more.', the Slytherin thought to himself with a small smirk. Blaise flicked his eyes up, "you've literally been like that since we settled in and that was about two hours ago. What's up? Thinking about your dad and stuff?"
Draco looked away from the window for the first time and arched an eyebrow, "honestly shouldn't be surprised you guessed it on your first try."
"I mean, I am your best friend so it happens."
Draco resumed his staring contest with the outside world, "The past few months have been...stressful. With Father being incarcerated, the ministry constantly snooping our estate and everything going on in the wizarding world in general. Mother, you and Daphne have made it slightly bearable at least. I still can't believe Potter and even Weasel and Granger testified in Wizamengot in favor of us. At first I wanted to be angry, thinking it was pity or some weird scheme or angle. But then I started to think about it, maybe it was just you know...genuine."
Blaise continued lazily reading The Prophet, "Well look at that. Someone is starting to mature, there's hope for you yet." He didn't have to look up to know that Draco was flipping him off. "No but really, I'm glad you're opening up for once and starting to get it off your chest. Things will only get better from here, think of it as a new start, you know?"
Draco sigh and recrossed his legs, "Yeah, yeah. I know. You honestly don't know how good you had it with your family being gray during that idiotic war. I still loathe my grandfather for siding with that half-blood asshole in the first war and now annoyed with my father for not being man enough to cut ties. I know our family was in pretty deep but still, it sucked. When I was younger I thought it was the best thing ever, being on the winning and pure blood side but as we all know by sixth year, my views started to change." He glanced down at his forearm and sneered, even though his sleeve was down he knew it was there, taunting him.