Sideways
I. Ghosts of the Past
Draco Malfoy stood in the wide corridor for the third year in a row. He glanced around the room anxiously, his grey eyes scanning the vast sea of flowing robes. After a few painstaking moments, he saw her; Hermione Granger. She was his best friend from his second birthday to his 11th. They both spent their whole lives preparing for Hogwarts and when the day finally came; neither could be more excited than the other…
"Oh, Draco, isn't it exciting?" Hermione gushed, grasping her letter so hard that her knuckles turned white and the parchment crushed under her hand. She was practically squealing with joy as she rushed to him and shoved the letter into his hand.
"I suppose," Draco tried to act calm, but his heart was beating furiously under his chest as he scanned the words on the page, saying his very best friend was going to be attending Hogwarts that coming fall. He had gotten his letter a mere two weeks beforehand.
Hermione clapped her arms around her best friends neck, her bushy hair impairing his vision momentarily, "I can't wait. We'll have so much fun together, Draco."
Draco smiled, Hermione and Draco would rule Hogwarts together, the two best friends, pure bloods, coming from upstanding and important families. The most important detail to him, though, was that they would stay together.
Draco cringed at the thought and watched his oldest friend from afar, as she went and rejoined her two best friends with a grin on her face. The grin Draco used to think was reserved for him. It almost broke him, right there in the hallway outside of the Great Hall. Finally, the doors opened and they all filed in somewhat quickly. He felt a minor shove from behind and he growled, turning on his heel, "Watch it," he grumbled. Glancing up, he found himself eye-to-eye with Harry Potter. He pursed his lips and sighed contentedly, "Ah…Potter."
"Malfoy," Harry said through clenched teeth. He was flanked by none other than Ron Weasley and, to Draco's great disappointment, Hermione Granger. Ron managed a few choice words under his breath, and Hermione stood there, stone-faced and silent.
"Weasley, Granger," he nodded in their direction with a smirk on his face, "you might learn how to address your superiors." He shrugged and winked, "Just a suggestion."
Ron scoffed and Hermione came back quickly with retaliation, "Superiors? Really, Malfoy."
Harry managed simply to say, "Shove off, Malfoy." And push his friends in the right direction.
Draco ignored them after that, brushing past them and heading to the Slytherin table. He watched Hermione walk towards the Gryffindor table with a pang of regret, one he always tried to push aside after these small spats with the trio. He sat down next to his loyal cronies, Crabbe and Goyle and sighed loudly, completely blocking out the sorting of the first year students. His mind was overcome with more memories that he'd tried for almost three years now to suppress.
"I hope I'm in Slytherin." Draco groaned, his face rapidly losing color, "I don't even know what my father will do if I'm not…"
Hermione shook her head and patted his leg supportively, "Don't worry Draco." She said it somewhat absentmindedly as she poured over her newest book obsession, "Hogwarts: A History." She hummed a nameless tune to herself and then announced, "I've decided I'd like to be in Gryffindor."
Draco made a face somewhat like one you'd make when you noticed an unpleasant smell. He obviously disagreed, but asked anyway, "Why in the name of Merlin would you want to be in…Gryffindor." He said the name with contempt.
Hermione snapped her book shut and looked in her best friend's eyes, "Smarts, bravery, you know, the normal reasons." She shrugged.
Draco rolled his eyes, "I don't know what's in that book, but Slytherin is the best house. My family's been in it for generations."
"Just because your family's been in it, doesn't make it the best." Hermione's eyes narrowed, daring him to continue the argument.
Draco, having had seen that look enough times, offered his hands up in the motion of surrender. They spent the rest of the train ride laughing, glancing out the window and just being young children, off to their first day of school. Somewhere in the middle of this, a young red-headed wizard tapped on their compartment door. Draco reached up and unlocked the door, sliding it back and, looking bored, addressed the wizard. "Can we help you?"
The wizard's eyebrows rose, but he responded pointedly, "If you'll look out your window, you'll see Hogwarts is approaching. I'd recommend changing into your robes."
Hermione, eyes bright with excitement, reached above Draco and pulled her neatly folded robes down from the rack above the seats, quickly throwing them over her head. She pressed her hands nervously in her lap and watched as the castle got closer and closer, "What if I get up there and I just…don't get sorted?" her eyes welled.
Draco, exasperated, popped his blond head out from the top of his robes. He settled himself next to his friend and took her hand in his, looking in her eyes, "If anyone is meant to be at Hogwarts, it's us, Hermione."
Draco was awakened from this by Crabbe nudging him roughly in the ribs, "C'mon, mate; time to go." He'd completely missed dinner and he felt his stomach grumble. He pressed a hand to it and nodded at Crabbe and Goyle to go on as he pushed away from the table and got up, his robes swishing quietly behind him. The castle seemed to be abandoned on the lower levels, as everyone filed up the stairs to their warm common rooms. The Slytherins all moved in one group of emerald robes towards the dungeons and Malfoy quickly vouched for a different route. He turned on his heel and started walking towards the fruit tapestry on the first floor which, if you tickled the proper pear, gave way to a door to the kitchens.
When Draco reached said tapestry, he found the door already opened. He debated not entering, but decided that his stomach couldn't handle a whole night without food. He walked in with his signature strut and the look that said he could do, basically, whatever he wanted. He slid onto a stool in the middle of the kitchen as over-helpful kitchen elves came and asked what he'd like. He merely asked for some left over dinner and the obliged, magically heating up remains and placing them on a plate for him. As he ate a sweet potato, he heard talking and giggling in the next room, which was also another kitchen. He got up from his stool, to protests from his stomach, and walked into the room.
"I'm so glad you liked the sweaters, Dobby." Hermione smiled and patted the house elf's bald head. Dobby practically tripped over himself, and blushed furiously. Malfoy knew this particular house elf, as he used to work in his own home at Malfoy Manor. Draco held his breath and tried to back out of the room before anyone could see him, but it seemed as soon as he turned his back she felt his presence. "Oh, Draco, I didn't see you…"
Draco shook his head, pressing his lips in a hard line, "Of course, Granger. Fraternizing with house elves now, too?" He chuckled, "I guess blood traitors weren't bad enough for you."
Hermione recoiled as though she'd been slapped and nodded silently, "Well, Dobby, I'll come back later sometime. It was lovely seeing you, really." She brushed past Malfoy on her way out and he heard her quiet sobs echo through the empty kitchen.
Dobby eyed him suspiciously, making him feel guilty. "What're you looking at, you filthy elf. Shouldn't you be making my breakfast for tomorrow?" He grumbled and left the room before the elf could respond. He looked at his full plate, and suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. He flung his hand in the plates direction and watched the contents fly and as groaned in frustration. Nothing would ever be the same as it was.
