With a heavy sigh Draco Malfoy stepped through the barrier onto Platform 9¾. Why am I even here? Dealing with all these Mud- He stopped himself. He couldn't be thinking that way. Especially if he'd have to share a dorm with… He grimaced. Granger. The name3 was a hiss behind his eyes. Then the image that had haunted him the whole bloody year flashed behind his eyelids. He felt rocks in his stomach, and willed it to go away.
With much fight, Hermione Granger's naked body seeped into his mind. His Aunt Bella's cruel laughter. Then the screaming. "STOP! I DON'T KNOW HOW WE GOT IT! PLEASE!" He winced, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. He was caught somewhere between arousal and revulsion, both fighting for his attention. One thing about the present moment had caught his attention. The questions had started.
"Why is he even here?"
"Can you believe McGonagall let him come back?"
"Is that really Malfoy?"
Yes, it's Malfoy you prats, he thought with a snarl. But that was the only question he had the answer to. Why am I here? Why did she let me come back? He did have an idea why. She's pulling Dumbledore's old crap. "See the good in everyone!" It's all bloody bull shit. She's just as mad as he was. In the back of his mind, though, a small voice whispered "this is all you've got, don't screw it up."
Headmistress Minerva McGonagall had let him back into the school he had betrayed for one reason alone. For once in his noble, proud life, Draco had begged. He needed a second chance. He wanted desperately to be back at the top. And if that meant -his eyes narrowed- getting in Potty's good graces, then for his mother's sake, he'd do it.
Malfoy sighed once more. Thoughts of his mother always made his heart heavy, especially with her current state. She had become a right mess since the incarceration of her husband, his father, Lucius Malfoy. The normally proud, tall and graceful woman had become a crumbling, graying wreck of the person she was. With glazed over eyes, she merely sat at the manor, reading his father's old journals. It broke his already-torn-apart heart to see her this way. So he had come up with –in his mind—the perfect solution. Get the Malfoy name back at the top.
Malfoys eyes opened with a start as a small red head ran into his chest. Looking down, bright blue eyes were staring hard up at him. A smirk crossed his face. The Weaslette had her hands in tight balls at her sides, then a small cough stole his attention before he could size the small woman up properly. His eyes left the blue ones, and met a pair of deep, chocolate brown ones. His breath caught in his throat as a blush rose on Hermione Grangers face. It's like she knows…
"Malfoy." The youngest Weasley said curtly, pushing her way past him with a nod in his general direction. But his eyes never left Grangers. As the picture of her writhing, naked body invaded his mind, her eyes left his quickly and instead met her shoes. And with that small gesture, she brushed past him, sending a jolt throughout his arm. He turned to watch her leave, his eyes finding the mess of a bun at the back of her head. He sighed like a lovesick schoolgirl, then narrowed his eyes.
What in god's name was that? His nose wrinkled. Her scent had lingered.
Draco shook his head, clearing his senses, and picked up his discarded briefcase. With a final glace around, he took a few steps about the platform, then onto the train.
Malfoy glanced around the nearly empty compartment he sat alone in. None of his… friends had returned to Hogwarts. He snarled at the empty air. Friends, he thought sarcastically. Some GREAT friends I had there. Sold me out to… He winced. He couldn't, not yet. Sold me out to…Him.
A knock on the compartment door startled him out of his thoughts with a very un-Malfoy-like jump. Looking up, he frowned. Potter?
"May I come in?" Harry Potter said quietly, sliding open the door and putting a foot through the entryway.
Draco nodded once, gesturing to the empty seats around the cabin. "Take your pick." He said softly, his eyes finding his shoes and staying there as Potter took a seat across from him.
"I figured we should have a…talk, before we arrive at the school." Potter said, his eyes on the floor as well.
"And what could we possibly have a civil conversation about?" Draco snapped with more malice than he had intended. His eyes had snapped up with his response, meeting the green ones of his former nemesis, then fleetingly returning to the floor.
"I'm not here to deal with your damned attitude, Malfoy." Potter stood up with a scowl and made to leave, before Draco stood up and caught his arm.
"I'm sorry." He said quickly. And with those words, he had poured his heart out to Potter. Just those two little words and he was nearly in tears.
"Malfoy I-"
"Just don't. Say what you have to say, then go. I don't want your sympathy." He bit with a snarl. A lone tear slipped down his face, and he brushed it away roughly. Fucking Gryffindors and their bleeding bloody hearts.
"I just wanted to say that I don't hate you, Mal-Draco." Draco looked up at the use of his first name.
"Well I still bloody hate you." He mumbled half-heartedly. He didn't mean it at all, but felt like it was the right thing to say. Kind of.
"Very well then. See you at school." With a flourish, Potter was gone.
Slamming the door shut and pulling the drapes down, Draco collapsed on the floor and cried for the first time since the war.