It was a cold November night. Draco lay awake on his bed. The doors to the Head balcony were open, filling the room with a piercingly cold breeze. Draco shivered and slid deeper under his covers. He was trying to remember a dream he had just woken from with a chilling sweat. Giving up, he jumped from the beautifully carved four-post bed onto the dark hard wood floor.
To most people, living in the extravagantly luxurious Head Boy suite would be a dream come true, but to Draco it was a nightmare-like shadow of a life he once lead. Everything about the room reminded him of his father, a cold- hearted and, now, dead man. Ever since Draco joined Dumbledore's side in killing Voldemort, the war that had taken his father's life, Draco's own life had been looking up. He was slowly gaining trust from his non- Slytherin classmates and professors. Still, there was a hole in his heart. A hole that, unlike any other, seemed to weigh almost a thousand pounds. He had hoped that this hole would fill after the dark side was defeated, but it only seemed to become deeper.
Draco walked slowly to the balcony, pushing past the thin, silver-green curtains that whipped silently in the wind. He took a deep breath as he let the frigid night air fill him. The sky was packed with stars and a full moon shined brightly, like a flashlight searching for a lost soul in the dark. He looked out over the lake with the moon reflecting on its ripples. He felt a single tear slide down his pale face. He didn't bother to wipe it away as no one was watching him. So it seemed.
Little to his knowledge, Hermione had also woken up from a terrible dream that night. She rose from her bed to open the doors and step out onto the stone balcony that Head Boy and Girl shared. As she placed her hands on the sliding door's handle, she looked up and saw Draco staring into the stars. She quickly looked away, thinking he might notice her presence. She looked up again and saw that he was still studying the stars, as though searching for an answer. This was very unusual to her because she had never seen a soft side to Draco in all these years they had been at Hogwarts. Hermione studied his face harder until the moon reflected a single tear on his face. Hermione found herself longing to go out onto the balcony and comfort Draco, but she had to hold herself back because she knew that would make him angry.
Giving Draco one more sorrowful glance, she headed back to her bed. After that, Hermione couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. She wasn't sure if it was because she was afraid to return to her nightmare or because she was worried about Draco's behavior. She wondered if Draco had changed since he left the dark side or maybe he had a secret side all along. Maybe Draco deserved a true second chance, but how would she convince her friends that Draco had really changed. Draco wouldn't take any pity from anyone and he would be skeptical of her sudden friendliness. She had to try to befriend him gradually and make him feel okay to be part of the other side. Just then she heard a loud slam from the Head Boy's sliding door closing. She soon filled with sorrow and regret from misjudging Draco's switch to Dumbledore's side. These feelings were strange and were surprisingly strong.
Draco was sick of everyone. People expected so much of him now that he had changed. But he couldn't go back, there was nothing left of his family's name. Everything his father had taught him was a lie, a lie that only drove him to killing his father once he learned the truth. Almost no one knew he was the one responsible for his father's death, as there were many death eaters that were killed in that war. His mother was the only one who knew this. She was there on the night that he poisoned his father. She could never forgive Draco, although she knew deep down that what he did was right. Draco's mother never told a soul, knowing it would bring even more disgrace to the already ruined Malfoy name.
Contrary to what everyone believed, Draco wanted to start fresh. Now that he could live his own life without having to please his sinister father, he wanted to be a hero, which he would have been if they had known how much Draco had helped to defeat Voldemort. Most of them only saw him as a boy who switched sides fearing he might die if he was connected to the dark side. Anger filled Draco until he just couldn't hold it in. He picked up a glass serpent on his bedside table and smashed it into a portrait of Salazar Slytherin that was, until now, resting. The man in the portrait soon vanished, shaking his head. Draco let out a sigh and fell back onto his soft bed. His eyes slowly closed and he began to fall back to sleep. He was interrupted a few moments later by a soft knock on his door. His eyes shot open in surprise and glared at the door. His body didn't budge, thinking it was just his imagination. Hesitantly, Draco closed his eyes only to hear the knock come again, this time followed by a voice. 'Draco...' it said quietly. It was Hermione. He jumped out of bed without further delay, grabbed his robe, and swung open the door.
To most people, living in the extravagantly luxurious Head Boy suite would be a dream come true, but to Draco it was a nightmare-like shadow of a life he once lead. Everything about the room reminded him of his father, a cold- hearted and, now, dead man. Ever since Draco joined Dumbledore's side in killing Voldemort, the war that had taken his father's life, Draco's own life had been looking up. He was slowly gaining trust from his non- Slytherin classmates and professors. Still, there was a hole in his heart. A hole that, unlike any other, seemed to weigh almost a thousand pounds. He had hoped that this hole would fill after the dark side was defeated, but it only seemed to become deeper.
Draco walked slowly to the balcony, pushing past the thin, silver-green curtains that whipped silently in the wind. He took a deep breath as he let the frigid night air fill him. The sky was packed with stars and a full moon shined brightly, like a flashlight searching for a lost soul in the dark. He looked out over the lake with the moon reflecting on its ripples. He felt a single tear slide down his pale face. He didn't bother to wipe it away as no one was watching him. So it seemed.
Little to his knowledge, Hermione had also woken up from a terrible dream that night. She rose from her bed to open the doors and step out onto the stone balcony that Head Boy and Girl shared. As she placed her hands on the sliding door's handle, she looked up and saw Draco staring into the stars. She quickly looked away, thinking he might notice her presence. She looked up again and saw that he was still studying the stars, as though searching for an answer. This was very unusual to her because she had never seen a soft side to Draco in all these years they had been at Hogwarts. Hermione studied his face harder until the moon reflected a single tear on his face. Hermione found herself longing to go out onto the balcony and comfort Draco, but she had to hold herself back because she knew that would make him angry.
Giving Draco one more sorrowful glance, she headed back to her bed. After that, Hermione couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. She wasn't sure if it was because she was afraid to return to her nightmare or because she was worried about Draco's behavior. She wondered if Draco had changed since he left the dark side or maybe he had a secret side all along. Maybe Draco deserved a true second chance, but how would she convince her friends that Draco had really changed. Draco wouldn't take any pity from anyone and he would be skeptical of her sudden friendliness. She had to try to befriend him gradually and make him feel okay to be part of the other side. Just then she heard a loud slam from the Head Boy's sliding door closing. She soon filled with sorrow and regret from misjudging Draco's switch to Dumbledore's side. These feelings were strange and were surprisingly strong.
Draco was sick of everyone. People expected so much of him now that he had changed. But he couldn't go back, there was nothing left of his family's name. Everything his father had taught him was a lie, a lie that only drove him to killing his father once he learned the truth. Almost no one knew he was the one responsible for his father's death, as there were many death eaters that were killed in that war. His mother was the only one who knew this. She was there on the night that he poisoned his father. She could never forgive Draco, although she knew deep down that what he did was right. Draco's mother never told a soul, knowing it would bring even more disgrace to the already ruined Malfoy name.
Contrary to what everyone believed, Draco wanted to start fresh. Now that he could live his own life without having to please his sinister father, he wanted to be a hero, which he would have been if they had known how much Draco had helped to defeat Voldemort. Most of them only saw him as a boy who switched sides fearing he might die if he was connected to the dark side. Anger filled Draco until he just couldn't hold it in. He picked up a glass serpent on his bedside table and smashed it into a portrait of Salazar Slytherin that was, until now, resting. The man in the portrait soon vanished, shaking his head. Draco let out a sigh and fell back onto his soft bed. His eyes slowly closed and he began to fall back to sleep. He was interrupted a few moments later by a soft knock on his door. His eyes shot open in surprise and glared at the door. His body didn't budge, thinking it was just his imagination. Hesitantly, Draco closed his eyes only to hear the knock come again, this time followed by a voice. 'Draco...' it said quietly. It was Hermione. He jumped out of bed without further delay, grabbed his robe, and swung open the door.