"Oh, Draco, I was so worried!"

My mother embraces me, but I can see my father glowering behind her. "Where have you been?" he demands.

I don't answer.

"You turned against us!"

"Lucius, please," Mother says.

"He aimed his wand at your sister, Narcissa!" He glares at me. "Explain yourself!"

I still refuse to answer, so he pulls out his wand. "Don't make me repeat myself."

"Lucius!"

His aim is right between my eyes and it's pissing me off. "I never wanted this."

"Excuse me?" His voice is soft, dangerous, but I don't care.

"I never wanted to be a Death Eater, I never wanted to hurt people, I never wanted to watch the rest of you torture and kill people. Two of my friends died because of the Dark Lord's orders. I watched Aunt Bellatrix torture my classmate right in front of me!"

"The Mudblood again?" Father rolls his eyes. "You'd be better off with her dead. Your grades took a massive hit year 6 when you were failing the Dark Lord's mission. With her out of the way, you'd finally be the top student."

The anger that had been simmering boils over. "The only reason I had that mission to begin with was because I was being punished for your failure."

"Crucio!"

Pain wracks my body, bringing me to my knees. I dig my fingers into the carpet, trying not to cry out.

"Lucius! Your son!" My mother rushes to my side as the pain subsides.

"He is no son of mine." His eyes are colder than I've ever seen them. "Get out of my house."

"Lucius!" Mother is pleading now.

But I'm finished. "Gladly," I say, heading up the stairs to pack my things.

Mother follows me to my room, begging me to stay, telling me to ignore my father. "He will calm down. Please don't go."

"I'm not staying here," I reply.

"But I love you."

I feel myself soften, and she takes advantage, holding my hand. "Draco. You don't want to leave. Stay with me."

But the pain is still lingering, and that's enough to push any doubts away. "I love you too, Mother. Take care of yourself."

Before I leave, she shoves a pouch in my hand. "Money. You'll need it."

"Thank you."

It isn't until I'm far away from home that I realize I have nowhere to go. All of my friends' parents are Death Eaters; everyone is on the run right now. Nobody will come after my parents or me because I switched allegiance and my parents claimed they did. Snape is dead. I have no other family. Finally, I send an owl to McGonagall. I know she's going to be the new headmistress, so maybe she'll have an idea. I hate that I've sunk this low.

If she's surprised, she doesn't let on in her letter. She says she's talked to the other professors and that Slughorn is willing to take me in for the summer. The catch? I have to help repair the parts of Hogwarts that had been destroyed during the war.

It's an easy decision.

I'm actually nervous as I walk into the Great Hall for the feast. I'm going alone for the first time in seven years. Pansy, Blaise, Nott, Flint...none of them are coming back. I hear students whispering and pointing as I walk by, calling me nasty names, but I just keep my head down and take a seat at the Slytherin table. About half of us are gone and I barely know the ones who are left. We aren't getting any new students this year; McGonagall had decided that everyone should just retake last year because nobody actually learned anything.

I keep my eyes down as McGonagall clears up false rumors: that the Slytherins in the Hall right now all fought with the Death Eaters during the war, and that Snape was a horrible murderer. The second is a surprise to me; I was never told that Snape and Dumbledore had planned Dumbledore's death. Why did I have to go through all that pain then? How is that fair at all?

Food appears in front of us, but I'm not hungry. I raise my eyes slightly to look at the Gryffindor table. I see Hermione, but Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom aren't around. She's not lonely, though; she's the center of attention. Potter had done an interview where he credited a lot of his success in surviving and later defeating the Dark Lord to her. Everyone ate it up, and now they want every detail of their relationship. I've heard so many stories about how they're dating and going to get married and have three kids.

"Draco."

I jump, then look up. "What?"

Hermione shifts her bag to her other shoulder. "We have to meet with the Prefects. I gave them orders to patrol the train, but I wanted to have a formal meeting with them here. You weren't on the train; why weren't you on the train?"

I ignore the question. "You're talking really fast. Nervous about something?"

"No." Now her voice is high, as well as fast. "There's just so much to do. Full courseload, Head Girl..."

"Fielding questions about your love life, quickly becoming the most popular girl at school, and letting...who was that-Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein-hang all over you? Got a thing for Ravenclaws now? I'm sure Potter and Weasley would disapprove."

She looks like she's been slapped. "Thank you for your commentary on my love life," she replies coldly. "If I want your thoughts in the future, I'll ask for them."

I knew I had gone too far as soon as the words came out. "Old habits die hard," I mutter.

"Is he bothering you, Hermione?" Boot asks, coming up to us and glaring at me.

She smiles at him. "Not at all. We were just discussing the Prefects meeting. Draco is Head Boy, you know."

The distaste in his voice is obvious. "Yes, we're aware." He points to a far table. "We're all over there when you're ready."

"Thank you. We're ready now."

I let Hermione do the talking. The Slytherins might listen to me, but there's no way the others will. I see some familiar faces in the crowd-Looney Lovegood, Goldstein, that prat Ernie Macmillan, the Patil twins, and one of the Slytherins-but I have no idea who the rest are. I suppose I'm going to have to learn them.

"Draco?"

I need to stop ignoring conversations. Everyone is looking at me expectantly.

"Do you have anything to add?" Hermione prompts.

"Er-" Make something up, Draco. "Hopefully this term will be smoother than the last, now that everything is back to normal-"

"No thanks to your Death Eater friends," someone says, and everyone in the vicinity snickers.

"Er, let's not be prats and abuse our power-"

"Right hypocrite, you are, saying that."

"Shouldn't you be with your Death Eater father?"

"You should have been hunted down with the rest of them."

"That's enough!"

Everyone turns to Hermione. She's obviously angry; her face is bright red. "I'm going to tell all of you something. During the war, Draco saved my life. Greyback had disarmed me and was about to...hurt me...and Draco put himself between us and brought Greyback to his knees. He told him he wasn't going to let him harm anyone else and he kept that promise."

I watch the others as they take in the news. Everyone looks shocked, but there's something that looks like respect on some of their faces.

"I won't listen to these lies anymore. He left the Death Eaters, he saved my life, and I personally saw him attack several Death Eaters during the war. He was on our side, no matter how many mistakes he made before then. I don't want to hear anyone say otherwise. Is that understood?"

"Yes," most of them chant together.

"Terry? Anthony? Ernie?"

"Yes," they mumble.

"Good. Now go off to your patrols. We are going to have a good term. See you later."

I try not to meet anyone's eyes as they leave the room. Hermione's threat carries weight, but it's not going to stop them when she's not around.

"I wanted to make a point," she says, reading my mind. "I know better than anyone how bad being isolated is."

"Thank you."

I go to my dormitory, suddenly grateful that nobody wanted to share a room with me. I cast a Muffalito spell; I've been having nightmares all summer and the last thing I want to do is wake everyone else up.

"No! Please! We found it! Found it!"

The knife carves through her skin; her screams echo through the room.

"Let me have a turn," Greyback says, kneeling down. "Hello, my pretty. Not getting away from me this time."

Her whole body shudders when he strokes her face. I turn my head away as he bends closer.

"Watch," Father says, holding my head in place. "Don't look away."

I'm rewarded with a Cruciatus Curse every time I close my eyes until I'm sobbing on my knees. "Please stop," I beg. "Please."

"Looks like I went too far with this one," Greyback says, using his wand to pick up and drop her completely limp body right in front of me. "Pity."

"No!" I yell, grabbing at her body, my tears mixing with her blood. "Hermione, wake up! Please wake up!"

Her head rolls to the side, almost severed like the Gryffindor ghost. I bolt back, screaming.

I shoot up in bed, my head instantly throbbing with pain. I lie back, trying to catch my breath, my hands on my wet face. I check five times to make sure there's no blood.

I spend the rest of the night pacing. I try to practice Charms and Transfiguration, but only succeed in destroying half of my room. I try to recite Herbology creatures, but those quickly get jumbled in my head. I even pull out an Alchemy manuscript I had found in my house to study it, but I can't concentrate.

I skip breakfast and drag myself to Potions. Hermione is already there, sharing a bench with Boot next to me. He's talking a mile a minute, but she looks as tired as I feel.

"We're going to be brewing a mix of new potions and difficult potions you should remember from previous terms," Slughorn says. "Today I want you to brew the Draught of Living Death. Begin."

I hate this potion. Even Hermione could barely do it when we brewed it in Year 6. I hear her tell Boot to shut up so she can concentrate, which makes me smile. Unsurprisingly, she and I are the only ones who brew passable potions in the allotted amount of time. Slughorn gives each of us 5 points for our Houses, but tells all of us that we need to start improving quickly.

That statement becomes a common trend in all of our classes. We're N.E.W.T. level students and our grades will directly affect our careers. I still have no idea what I'm going to do. Who's going to want to hire a former Death Eater?

"Please, Madam Pomfrey. I need to sleep."

"Draco Malfoy, I have given you a Sleeping Draught a week for the past month. I'm not giving you any more."

"But-"

"No buts. Go see Professor Slughorn. I think you need to discuss why you're not sleeping."

"But-"

"Go."

I sigh, but follow her orders. Maybe Slughorn will give me one.

"I've been expecting you," he says when I show up in his office. "Have a seat."

I do, looking at him expectantly.

"You're still having nightmares?"

I nod. There's no point in lying. I'd had a lot of them when I was staying with him.

"Have you spoken with anyone about them?"

I snort. "Like who? In case you haven't noticed, everyone here more or less hates me. They would revel in my pain."

His response takes me by surprise. "I was thinking that you had perhaps talked to Hermione Granger since the two of you are currently in very similar situations."

"I doubt that. She has plenty of people to talk to, even a new boyfriend."

"If that was the case, I don't think Madam Pomfrey would have sent her to Professor McGonagall because she was continuously asking for Sleeping Draughts."

"She was?"

Slughorn leans forward in his chair. "I don't know what the two of you experienced during the war, but it was apparently so horrific that you're still having nightmares about it six months later. The three of us think that it will do both of you a lot of good to talk to each other."

Has it really been six months?

"Think about it."

"I will."

But my mind is made up when I leave the room. I ignore his advice.

I don't understand how, despite moving slower than slugs, Hermione and I are two of the only people still brewing passable potions.

"You all need a lesson in following directions," Slughorn says. "So I've created a scavenger hunt for you."

"What's the prize?" someone in the back asks.

"An extra five points on your Potions N.E.W.T. for anyone who can complete the task."

Now everyone is paying attention.

"You''ll complete your assignment in pairs," he says, tapping a small bowl with his wand. Scraps of paper fly out and pair off. I'm paired with Hermione.

"Unlucky," I hear Boot say. "I would love to be paired with you."

She laughs, but it sounds hollow. "It's fine."

"See you in Charms."

"See you."

She falls into step beside me as we walk to Transfiguration. "Do you want to complete the assignment tonight? I haven't really been sleeping anyway."

"Fine with me."

I wait by the Great Hall for her after lights out. Our mission apparently lies inside.

"Students out of bed in the corridor! Students out of bed in the corridor!"

I groan as I hear a growl from the floor in front of me. Mrs. Norris. Then I hear Hermione's extremely impatient voice. "Honestly, Filch, we're Head Boy and Girl. We have permission to be out of bed."

He grumbles something back, and Mrs. Norris turns away, twitching her tail at me. Hermione walks around the corner, rolling her eyes. "Honestly!"

I smile. "I never thought I'd see the day you abuse your power to get out of detention."

"Only to thwart idiotic rules." She gestures to the double doors. "Shall we?"

The scavenger hunt is set up exactly like potion instructions, just specific to where and how in the room we move.

"We look ridiculous," I say as we crawl beneath Dumbledore's old chair on the front platform.

"You want extra credit, don't you?" she replies.

I sigh. "What's the last step?"

"There's supposed to be a piece of paper hidden below the left arm of the chair. Once we find it, we have to use a Revealing Charm."

"Why didn't we just come here first then?"

She hands me the sheet. "Read the bottom."

I have placed a charm around the room that will only allow the sheet to be revealed if you follow the steps exactly. I toss the paper off the platform. "Of course he did."

"Found it!" She taps the paper three times. "Aparecium!"

"What's it say?" I ask as the message slowly reveals itself.

"'Talk to each other about the war. Or anything, really.'"

"No way." I read over her shoulder. "He set us up."

She laughs a little as she sits on top of the table. "It appears so. I take it you have been having nightmares as well."

I hesitate. I don't really want to talk about it, but she is going to know if I'm lying. "Yeah."

She looks out across the room. "Can I ask you a question?"

I hesitate again.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

That's better. "Okay."

"Back when you were really popular and had loads of people around you all the time, did you ever still feel alone?"

All the bloody time. "Not enjoying your newfound popularity?"

"Most of them barely talked to me before. They were friendly, but I was in the background. Now I'm in the center, but they don't care about me or how I'm doing; they mostly want to talk about Harry. Except Terry. He just wants to snog."

I make a face; I can't help it. That guy is really annoying.

She doesn't seem to notice. "Even Ginny. She's busy being Quidditch Captain and writing tons of letters to Harry. Harry, Ron, and Neville have Auror training, but they've managed to still write to Ginny, Lavender, and Hannah. Luna still talks to me, but I can't talk about the important things with her. I can't talk to anyone. Nobody cares."

She's blinking rapidly, and for a second I'm sure she's in my head. "I felt it too."

She turns to me, tears in her eyes. "How did you handle it?"

"I didn't. I bottled it up, lost sleep, got sick, and almost failed all my classes."

"Why?"

"Who was I going to talk to? Crabbe and Goyle? Pansy?"

She nods, wiping her face. "I understand."

We sit in silence for a moment, then Hermione speaks again. "Can I share something with you? Part of it only Mr. Shacklebolt and Professor McGonagall know."

The desperation in her eyes makes me give in. "Go ahead."

"Before I left with Harry and Ron to hunt for horcruxes, I felt I had to protect my parents in case Death Eaters found them. I erased their memories and convinced them that their names were Monica and Wendell Jenkins, and that they had a lifelong ambition to move to Australia. I planned on finding them after the war if I survived." She pauses, taking a breath. "Mr. Shacklebolt informed me at the beginning of the term that they died in a car crash. They never knew they had a daughter."

It takes a moment to process what she told me. I can't even imagine how hard that must have been for her. She erased her parents' memories.

"I just needed to get that off my chest. You don't have to say anything."

I nod. Good.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"No way," I reply. "I'm not in the mood for touchy-feely stuff tonight. I'm mad enough that Slughorn tricked us."

She tries to match my tone, but her voice wobbles. "Well, I'm sorry that talking to me is so terrible for you. I'll try not to burden you with my 'touchy-feely' stuff again in the future." She hops off the table and storms down the aisle.

"Wait, I-"

But I'm cut off by the slam of the doors.

I bang my head against my hands. Why does everything I say come out wrong?

"Why are you so intent on pushing people away?"

I nearly fall off the table. "Who's there?"

A ghost floats in front of me. "It is I, Sir Nicholas."

"What do you want?"

"I want to know why you keep intentionally pushing away someone who genuinely wants to help you."

"I'm not!"

"I've been around this castle for a long time, Mr. Malfoy. Certain students interest me more than others. You and Miss Granger have both been feeling alone. The difference is that you choose your isolation."

"What do you know?"

"I know that she has twice tried to be kind to you and to allow you to open up to someone. I know that both times you became nasty and rebuffed her attempts."

"I don't need to open up to anyone. I'm fine." I get up off the table and head towards the door.

"Stop being so bloody stubborn. You aren't fine and you know it."

I slam the door behind me. Stupid ghost poking in where he doesn't belong. I "choose my isolation"? Rubbish.