Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters, nor nothing. It all belongs to JK Rowling. She is AWESOME!!!!!!


Setting: This is in Draco's point of view. It is after the war against Voldemort, and his parents have passed away.


Just like the rest of my summer, I found myself trapped in this damn house. While in this bloody prison—as I liked to call it—I learned a few things. For starters, though I hate to admit it, I realized some Muggle inventions weren't too bad, and even came in handy during these times. Just with a few tweaks here, and a few tweaks there, they were fairly distracting.

For instance, this device that put out music. What was it? A stereo, I think. I sat in my room, with the music blasting from the two boxes on either side of it. Though they were fairly small, with a few incantations, the sound was basically blasting my ears. The music seemed to drown out everything else, to include those thoughts that never seemed to escape me.

I didn't want to return to Hogwarts this year, but I knew I had to. There was nowhere else to go, nothing else to do, and maybe, just maybe, school would help keep my mind busy. Oh, who was I freaking kidding?

After the war, the Dark Lord fell once again, from his throne. From what I heard, that bastard Potter found the last horcrux and destroyed it. With that, he destroyed any hope the Death Eaters had for the Dark Lord's return. "Curse Potter!! Damn him to bloody hell!!" I spat.

Along with the Dark Lord, went my father. The idea didn't bother me as much as I had expected it to. All my life I had been forced to live up to his expectations. I had to meet the standards he had set before me. Even though I met them, and exceeded them, he never seemed satisfied. He only kept expecting more and more. Pushing me farther and farther. With a hint of remorse, I realized that I was a bit relieved that he was gone. For if I had to put up with him for another year, I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to take it, and would have probably broken.

My father had just made me feel weak—so unworthy—all of these years. I was never able to make him proud of me, yet others would die to have their sons be like me. And other students would have died to be in my place. Fifth year prefect. A pure Slytherin at heart. And now, marked with the Death Eater mark. And who else to put it on me? None other than the Dark Lord himself. But was that any good? No. Of course not.

Nothing was ever good enough for him. And if he saw me now, he would despise me. After all, I was forced to return to the good side—to Hogwarts. So it was good he wasn't here. Otherwise, he would—once again—repeat those harsh words that never once held a single drop of love. Just harshness and anger, supposed to "build me up" and supposed to "shape me up." All I had ever wanted from him was his approval, acceptance, and at least a little compassion. But never once did he show any of this. Never.

As for my mother, she was kind, in a way. She always tried to protect me from my father's wrath, but mostly failed. She loved me, her only son, the fruit of her womb. I was going to miss her, but maybe it was for the best. For she no longer had to put up with my father, nor did she have to suffer from watching her son follow the wrong footsteps. Even if they were those of her husband.

These were the thoughts I tried to block out. I didn't want to dwell on the past. Dwelling was for the weak. I had to move on and live this life the only way I knew how—by being superior, feeling superior, and acting superior. I was superior to others. I was a pureblood. No one else was even worthy to try to be my opponent. No one could get in my way if I wanted something. I despised others with the very essence of my being. Those that were not purebloods were nothing—especially those freaking Mudbloods—and I would make them know this.

Just then, the auror that was "taking care of me" knocked on my door. Taking care of me, now there was a laugh. I didn't need anyone to take care of me. I could take care of myself. "What the hell do you want?" I yelled.

He opened the door, and announced I had a visitor. I gave him my back, as I turned off the stereo. When I turned around again, to face him, I noticed he was gone. In his place, stood Dumbledore, in the flesh and blood.

"Draco," Dumbledore addressed me.

"Professor Dumbledore," I replied.

"I take it you're not surprised with my return."

Inside I was. I couldn't believe he had come back. I took him for a goner, once he went missing. Of course I wasn't going to let him know this, so I replied with a simple, "No."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Draco."

What does he care? I thought. "Don't be." I snapped.

"Draco, I understand how you must be feel—"

"Look," I interrupted. "They are dead. Leave them dead. It doesn't matter now. If I'm able to look past it, then so should you. Now get over yourself. After all, what is it to you?" I challenged.

Dumbledore had a blank expression on his face. Finally, he replied, "It matters because you are my pupil, and you have just suffered from a painful loss. Losing your parents is never easy."

"Your pupil?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "So you're going back to Hogwarts?"

"Yes. I am," he replied. "Draco, we have recently chosen who will be Head Boy and Head Girl."

I knew they would probably choose me as Head Boy, but with all that had been going on, it had completely slipped my mind. I dropped my gaze to the floor.

"Draco," he continued. I looked up. "You have been chosen to be Head Boy. Do you accept this task?"

"Yes," I replied, weakly, the edge to my voice gone.

"Thank you. When you board the Hogwarts Express, you will go on to the very last compartment in the rear. Then you will meet with the Head Girl. After about half an hour, the prefects will join you and you two will instruct them what to do."

"Ok." This sounded easy enough.

"Oh, yes, before I forget, you will no longer live within the walls of the Slytherin house."

"What??!!" I exclaimed, losing my well-composed face.

"Yes. You will be sharing a chamber with the Head Girl."

"Oh," I accidentally let out. Why am I having such a hard time controlling myself? I questioned. It's probably because I haven't had much contact with people.

"Of course, you will have separate rooms and separate bathrooms. You will have to share the common room, however. The common room looks like that of any of the four houses, except it's a little smaller. You can have visitors if you wish, but the Head Girl must consent to it. Now, do you have any questions?" he concluded.

"No." I stated.

"Okay then, the next time I see you will be at Hogwarts. When you arrive there, report immediately to my office. The password is liebe alle. Oh and one more thing, Draco…" he said. For the first time, since the beginning of our conversation, I really looked at him. He looked tired, exhausted. I almost felt bad for him… ALMOST.

"People do care," he said, letting out a small sigh.

With that, he walked away. I wanted to call out to him, but a Malfoy would never do that. Of course not. I can't recall the rest of the evening. It was all such a daze. Finally, I went to bed. I thought I'd be tired and fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Instead, I lied there thinking. That's when it hit me:

If I was Head Boy, then who was Head Girl?