September first that year was a rainy day, and also the day that Hogwarts Express leaves King's Cross Station for Hogsmeade Station. As was the norm, Draco got up early to make the journey that starts at exactly eleven o'clock in the morning. Despite the events of last year, he looked forward to the new term, although he wasn't eager to endure the long, monotonous journey northward aboard the scarlet train. Of course he wasn't going to be able to while it away with sleep.

He shook his father's hand and allowed his mother a kiss to his forehead before climbing aboard the train. Same with his previous journeys to and from Hogwarts on this train, he shared a compartment with fellow Slytherins Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise and Pansy. He looked backed to the platform where his parents stood, subtly waving back to his mother and paying his father no mind; Lucius was consulting his pocket watch again, not bothering to look up. Draco shrugged it off; it's not like they were leaving off to fight in a war or something, it was just school. With this thought in mind, he scorned at the other students' parents who were waving enthusiastically at the leaving train.

The journey went on, and as it did, the sky got darker and the rain heavier. Boredom crept up on him as Draco's companions fell asleep one by one. Finally, he was the only one left awake in their compartment, so Draco slid out and began wandering again. He hesitated at first, thinking it might look bad if he were to walk around aimlessly alone, but ultimately decided it was okay as long as he spared everyone he runs into an insult.

He had only gone a few minutes when he spotted a particularly fat gray tabby. It was only minding its own business, pawing a door into one compartment a little way off ahead of him, but Draco just had this urge to go and kick it. Made up his mind to do just that, but was stopped by someone calling his name. He didn't have to turn around to confirm that it was Crabbe, which meant that Goyle had come along, too. They are never going to leave him alone, aren't they?

Nonetheless, he turned to nod at the two fools before turning back to see the cat getting picked up by a pair of hands and disappeared into the compartment. He sighed a little and spun around to walk back up the corridor and met up with the boys who had just showed up to join him. Suddenly, he heard the unmistakable voice of Hermione Granger. He realised that he was glad to hear her voice again, but quickly managed to shake off the feeling. He motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to follow; time to go greet the Golden Trio.

Draco pulled open the compartment door and said in his usual lazy drawl, "Well, look who it is: Potty and the Weasel." He smirked, remembering an article in the Prophet from last week before continuing, "I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley. Did your mother die of shock?"

Weasley was on his feet in a flash, knocking something to the floor which prompted Draco to take a step back. He wasn't going to come in contact with anything that looked that filthy.

Then he heard a noise from further inside the compartment. He spotted a man sleeping at the back. "Who's that?"

"New teacher," Potter answered him. "What were you saying, Malfoy?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at the Boy Who Lived before finally darting them to his dear mudblood. Her eyes shot daggers at him. Ah, so she had fully recovered.

"C'mon," he muttered to the two boys standing on either side of him and left.

Draco chose to stay in his compartment for the rest of the journey. The rain thickened and it got even darker, until now the window was completely black and Draco couldn't see anything through it without straining his eyes. He realised too that they were slowing down. They can't have already arrived, it felt too soon. Why were they stopping?

Draco followed Pansy with his eyes as she stood up from her seat and poked her head out the door. "What's going on?" Blaise was asking. Suddenly, all the light left his vision and he heard Pansy gasp. The train came to a screeching halt, throwing some of the luggage overhead onto the sleeping bodies of Crabbe and Goyle. Draco wisely remained in his seat until his eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the outlines of Blaise and the others.

There was something just outside the compartment. It got very cold, and then he saw a black-cloaked figure gliding across their door. He knew this feeling all too well; hopelessness.

The door slid open and a Dementor stood before them. It fell silent, nobody dared to move, until finally the creature turned to leave for the next compartment.

When the lights returned and the train began moving again, they promptly shook themselves out of their trance. Draco was already looking forward to hear what Dumbledore had to say about what just happened.

He hated that he had to walk in the rain from the station to the school carriages. Now he sat in one of them; wet, cold, hungry, and a bit shaken from the Dementor's visit. Draco was in a most foul mood, at least up until he overheard Longbottom saying something as he was getting off his carriage. It was simply delightful news.

"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?" Potter was just getting out of his carriage. Of course he was going to tease Potter about it. In fact, Draco shall taunt him with it for the rest of his miserable life. What's so great about The Boy Who Lived now?

Granted, Dementors are a great deal frightening, but since nobody else was so afraid of them that they fainted, while Potter did, it was only fitting to make a big deal out of it. So Draco shoved past Granger to face the bespectacled boy full in the face as he taunts him. But then the new teacher from before showed up and Draco was deterred.

The Welcoming Feast that followed was otherwise uneventful if not for Draco being distracted the whole time by Granger – or rather, her absence. They were filing into the Great Hall when Draco heard Professor McGonagall's voice calling over the sea of students for both Potter and Granger. Perhaps the professor had been notified about the incident on the train with Potter, but what had Granger gotten herself into? The question kept his attention from the Sorting Hat's song and, later, a greeting from a first-year who had just taken the seat beside him.

It was now midnight, he knew from the distant tolling of bells. It wasn't those bells, or the loud snores of his dorm mates from either side of his bed that kept him awake at night. He had yet to figure out what exactly was the reason for his current state; motionless, his eyes unblinking and his mind a blank. Ultimately, he rose to his feet and got dressed to once again stroll along the corridors and halls of Hogwarts castle.

But when he reached Slytherin dungeon, the fireplace that was supposed to be off was blazing, and there was a voice there. Draco stopped in his tracks and strained his ears to listen in.

It was a girl's voice and she spoke barely above whispering. Draco thought it odd; for one thing, the common room was always empty when he passed it to venture outside at this hour, and for another, he was sure she was talking to herself because he heard no other voice. He poked his head through the doorway and looked to where he heard her voice was coming from.

She was sitting on the floor near the fireplace, and she was indeed alone. She must be mad, talking to herself in the dead of night. Talking to herself, period.

But Draco had not come down here to entertain a mentally challenged brat, so he began making his way out of the room. And while he was at it, Draco thought it best to stay hidden from the stranger, lunatic or otherwise.

He kept to the shadows and tried inching along the walls to get past her, but soon realised that he couldn't manage it after all; a part of the wall just before the passageway that lead outside was fully alight by the fire. Draco contemplated making a dash for it, or to simply return to his room, but he decided instead to just retreat into an alcove and sit down on the floor.

The girl was apparently reading aloud from a storybook – to a cat, no less, which had perched itself in an armchair just in front of her in a rather dignified manner. It was the very same tabby which Draco had wanted to kick earlier on the train ride this afternoon. And the story she was telling was full of utter nonsense; Draco found himself listening to her intently, because here in the safety of this darkness, it was alright for him to actually listen to someone without needing to come up with an insult to shut them up with.

"…when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waist-coat pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge. In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was going to get out again..."

Utter nonsensical. Of course now he wanted to know what this story was about and what was to become of the reckless girl named Alice. In fact he was so committed to listening to the story, he soon found himself drinking from a bottle which had the words "Drink Me" on it before following Alice through the little door in the wall in hopes of getting out of Wonderland.

"Wait!" he called out to Alice, who was quickly disappearing from view. He kept chasing after her, but suddenly he heard an odd noise. It sounded like some kind of an animal squeaking. He stopped running and looked around, but saw nothing. That was when a hedgehog hit him square in the face, knocking him onto the ground.

Draco groaned as he sat up and started rubbing his eyes. What the bloody Hell just happened? He sat there numbly for a minute, and then realised he had actually fallen asleep on the floor. He quickly turned to check on the girl who was telling, no, reading the story aloud to her cat.

The fire was out and he was now alone in the common the room. He surprised himself when he released a sigh of relief. What was he relieved about again? Hauling himself off the floor, he made a silent promise to return there tomorrow night and see if she was going to read the rest of the story. That must be it, the reason for his newfound relief; no more lonely nights of patrolling the castle afterhours and all the while trying to avoid Filch and his cat.