The Gryffindor trio clattered down the stairs from their newly assigned rooms, late for dinner in the Great Hall. It wouldn't do to be absent for the Sorting Hat ritual. They drew up short as they reached the doors, noting the small group gathered outside, all eighth-years. Draco averted his eyes, not wanting to seem interested in the evening's events.
Neville Longbottom waved them over, "Professor McGonagall asked us to wait out here so they can bring us in together."
"Why would she do that?" Weasley wondered, looking around. There were only a handful of students remaining from each house, a far cry from the number they'd started with eight years ago.
"No sodding clue," Blaise Zabini scoffed. "Probably want to give us their pity for having to repeat a grade."
The remaining Slytherins snickered with him, with the exception of Draco, who stood slightly apart from the group. He watched his classmates joke and tussle as they always had but he felt distant from it all. The prospect of sparring with Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs for superiority was no longer appealing. He had returned partly in the hopes of finding comfort in the familiar, some kind of normalcy in a life that had completely upended. But it just didn't feel right. It wasn't the same. Everywhere he went he felt eyes on him, unspoken "Death Eater" on everyone's lips. He saw eyes dart furtively to his left arm, as though they could perceive the dark mark there through his sleeve. He felt tainted. He felt like the the wizarding world knew he was tainted. He wasn't sure how to remove the stain..
The Great Hall doors swung open and Headmistress McGonagall called them in from the head table. The rest of the students gave the eighth-years a standing ovation, and the teachers commended them for their bravery in returning to complete their educations.
Draco ducked his head and headed straight to the Slytherin table, knowing the applause wasn't for him. In his haste he bumped into someone, and looked up into quiet, green eyes.
"Sorry, Malfoy," Potter smiled awkwardly and stepped to the side to let Draco pass.
Draco nodded, "Potter," he said flatly. It was the best he could do. He didn't want to fight, certainly not right now, but he couldn't summon friendliness. That was asking too much.
Potter seemed to understand and turned to sit with his fellow Gryffindors. Malfoy sat near the center of the sparsely seated Slytherin table. They'd lost a lot of students. Some had been expelled for their actions during the war, some had been transferred to different schools by families who no longer wished to be associated with their house. He hoped the Sorting Hat still saw some merit in the Slytherin name and assigned plenty of first-years to its ranks.
As it turned out, the Sorting Hat seemed to have the same idea. Hagrid stepped forward and held it high so its voice could reach the back of the room. It spoke of house assignments, describing the qualities associated with each name. It spoke strongly of Slytherin, noting that its members were ambitious, powerful, savvy, and clever. And it noted, perhaps more strongly, that Slytherin was not synonymous with evil. It ended by telling the waiting first-years that a Slytherin assignment was something to be proud of.
The Slytherin table burst into cheers at that. The other three houses applauded supportively, if a bit dubiously. Draco shared their dubiousness, but he couldn't help feeling proud anyway. The hat assigned nearly a third of the new students to Slytherin and wished them luck. Draco decided right then and there that if Slytherin House was to rebuild its name, to break its tie with evil, he would have to help lead the way.
And he would rebuild his own name at the same time.