Hello to everybody reading this! (If anybody is reading this...)

Okay so I'm really excited to write for HP because my only other story was Twilight-related! (Twilight is gross so don't read my other story.)

Anyways this was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but Draco is so complex and troubled (and hot) that this story got out of control. So I'm easily distracted and really busy, so we'll just see how this goes!

Are disclaimers even necessary? I feel like people just put them in to look official and boss. Well, to avoid the risk of being sued, I will put one in too.

Disclaimer: Don't own HP. I know, life sucks.

Chapter song: "Broken" by Norah Jones

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~TILDE!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tightly packed Great Hall resonated with a high, cold, and drawn out shriek. Though the words were almost unintelligible, no one questioned Lord Voldemort's intention or aim as a single jet of green light shot from the Elder Wand and attempted to smite The Boy Who Lived once and for all.

The surmounting tension was broken in an instant as Harry Potter and Tom Riddle's spells collided; the resulting bang pulsed like a pounding heart as it knocked half the congregation off its feet and shook the already shambled school threateningly.

Draco Malfoy, who had a marginal view into the ring from his vantage point, was thrown onto his back by the force of the magical collision. Almost immediately following the bang were large, golden flames that roared menacingly above him, forcing his eyes shut. When he reopened them, all was still.

Eyes toward the ceiling, Draco watched as a wand spun through the air in an elegant arc, out of Lord Voldemort's outstretched hand and across the congregation. The wand travelled in a slow, deliberate way, a mere silhouette as it passed across the fiery daybreak that burned through the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling. A heavy silence fell over the crowd as each member noticed the wand and watched its path in wonder. After what seemed like an eternity, the wand was plucked out of the air by a young, determined hand, and pointed towards the opposite end of the Hall, where a dull thud had broken the silence.

Draco scrambled to his feet to find himself looking down upon the corpse of Lord Voldemort. It lay lifeless on the floor, its snakelike eyes rolled completely backwards in its sockets, a mien of surprise still engraved on its gaunt, skeleton-like face.

Draco looked around and saw similar expressions of cautious disbelief mirrored on every face in the crowd, including his own, he was sure. Draco's entire life had been turned upside down in a matter of seconds, and his brain was still reeling to catch up with it.

Heavy silence pressed down on the Great Hall like an entity, demanding some sort of reaction to what had just transpired. The pause, thick with apprehension, lasted for only a few seconds, until the tension became impossible to bear.

Sounds of celebration erupted throughout the Great Hall - rowdy, rapturous, and unparalleled by anything the victors had ever experienced before. For the majority of the crowd, the spontaneous jubilation had brought solidarity, a sense of camaraderie after seeking and achieving victory after months of oppression and struggle.

For Draco Malfoy, it brought nothing but panic, confusion, and a deep sinking feeling when he realized he was completely and utterly alone.

Waves of noise crashed over him, raucous and mocking, yet powerful, threatening to pull him under. He felt trapped, as if the palpable atmosphere of reunion was suffocating him. There was no escaping it; he could only hope to find someone who would harbor him, someone to hold onto to keep himself from drowning in his own despair.

Draco wanted his mother.

For a moment, he was as small and frightened as he had been almost 7 years ago. He remembered his initial excitement being overpowered by an overwhelming sense of fear as he pulled out of Platform 9 3/4 for the first time, watching his parents fade into the distance as the train sped further and further away. As he pushed blindly through the crowd, he was a lost child on a crowded street; nowhere to turn, no one to go to.

He spotted a break in the crowd, and as Draco pushed into the open space, he felt the longing and relief that had been brimming in him transform in an instant; revulsion rose inside him like vomit.

Kingsley Shackelbolt had his wand extended threateningly to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, who stood cowering in a corner.

"- can assure you that you are sorely misguided, Kingsley. My true loyalties lie, and have laid for a long while now, with the welfare of this school, and, foremost, with the anti-Voldemort movement!" Draco's father attempted to persuade Kingsley, as he lifted his hands in a show of surrender.

"Save your breath, Malfoy. The evidence against you is astronomical! The same goes for you, Narcissa!" Kingsley turned his attention toward the blonde woman who had begun to sob pathetically into her husband's shoulder. "I reckon there's plenty of room for the both of you in Azkaban, though I'm sorry to say it won't be quite as spacious as the Malfoy Manor - "

"P-please d-don't!" pleaded Narcissa. "O-our son, Draco -"

"Oh, I don't think you'll need to worry about him," said Kingsley with a cynical smirk. "I reckon he won't be far from the pair of you." Narcissa's escalating cries reached a hysterical level, throwing Kingsley off guard and giving Lucius Malfoy the perfect opportunity to reach into his robes and slide out his wand.

Kingsley, whose cold facade had faltered at the sight of Mrs. Malfoy's implacable distress, did not catch Lucius's subtle movement.

Draco did not think; anger and an overwhelming sense of betrayal drew his wand out of his suit pocket and aimed it at his father.

"Expelliarmus!"

Lucius's eyes searched the immediate vicinity frantically, looking for the spellcaster who had thwarted his final attempt at escape. Lucius's eyes found Draco's, then trailed downwards to his drawn wand. When Lucius Malfoy's eyes met his son's once again, they were full of disbelief and anger. Draco spared his father that last fleeting look, in which he communicated as much contempt and disgust as he could muster, before he turned on his heel and disappeared once more into the crowd, the all-too -familiar sneer reappearing on his face like an old friend.

Well... What do you think? Please tell me!

Also, sorry there won't any AstoriaxDraco action till a little later... maybe if I get enough reviews I'll pick up the pace... :DDDD