Draco Malfoy sat in the Hallway lounging against a statue of a witch in armor with a sword in one hand and a wand in another. His platinum blonde hair was prematurely streaked with grey, and his gray cloak was dusty and dirty. He had been traveling over the country over the summer and had just Apparated in from Florence, Italy. He was scowling at a picture on the wall. Across from his was a cabinet containing a picture of Nicholas Flamel. He had been hunting the man for his formula for the Philosopher's Stone, but had simply came upon his and his wife's remains. He suddenly heard the doors at the other end of the hall and he slid to the other side of the statue, hoping to remain unnoticed. He heard Harry walking and talking down the hallway and another, female voice… could it be? He turned around the side of the stature to see Hermione Granger walking down the hallway.
He swore under his breath. But the slightest sound in this place was enough to alert them to his presence. He turned back and heard, "Harry, did you hear that?"
Harry pointed his wand at the statue and said, "Homenum Revelio! Draco! Get out here. She's a staff member now too. At least be cordial for god's sake."
Draco walked out from behind the statue with his hands in the pocket. Hermione looked him over, he looked about the same except maybe a couple inches taller and his hair had gray in it now. He looked, all in all, like a sulking teenager. His eyes were focused down and his teeth were bared like a growling dog. She noted that his eyes were a darker shade of grey than before, but that might just be the lighting. He was even paler, most likely because he had been working in the subterranean Potions lab. The only difference seemed to be that he was- if anything- a bit less pompous than school. Oh, if Pavarti was here now.
Draco looked up at her and- was she imagining, or was he blushing a bit? Yes, he was, and she was wondering whether it had to do with her or with Harry calling him out? Probably the latter. But he smiled a little, but it was just the slightest upturning of his lips, mostly still bared teeth. "Hello Harry," he said, "Glad to see you're back," and the last bit sounded like he was grinding his teeth. With the ironic words he took a bow to Hermione, an old-fashioned gesture that both intrigued and surprised her. Was this him being sarcastic or perhaps civil? Most likely the former, for he was now smiling. He then turned on his heels and walked away, and within seconds it was like he was never there.
Hermione blinked. Harry seemed to be a little taken aback. "Was that Malfoy actually being a gentleman? By god, I think the world may be coming to an end."
He drew his wand. "Welcome back to Hogwarts. Seems like just yesterday we walked down these hallways as students, wondering what we'd do after school ended and we were adults? Well, now it's the opposite, we walk down these halls knowing what we'll do."
Hermione watched down the hallway were Malfoy had gone. She said, "Yes, it is odd."
Then she remembered, "Didn't you say he reformed?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You don't think… Hermione, don't try it."
But she ran down the hallway after Draco.
Finally she came to the potions corridor and ran down it. The blue-flamed torches were crackling in their wall brackets. She ran into Snape's old office, and was startled to see a life-sized portrait of- what looked like- Draco Malfoy hanging. The picture shown had the same Blonde hair, face, and almost everything except- she noted- that his eyes were Green, not grey.
"And what," said Malfoy, "Are you doing down here, Miss Granger?"
Draco Malfoy had broken into a run when he had gotten to the Potions corridor. Finally, he charmed open his door and sat down at his desk. Why now? Why is it that when he had a chance at his goal, no matter how obsolete that goal, or order, was now, something got into the way? Why was he inexplicably atr- wait, what was that? He heard a noise from down the hallway, and went and found Granger staring at the painting of his grandfather. "And what," he said, "are you doing down here, Miss Granger?"
She looked startled. "This," he said, "Was my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, directly after he graduated from Hogwarts. Head boy, Prefect, Seeker on the Quidditch team, everything he could have wanted lain out before him. But none of it was good enough. He decided that he wanted to journey, and he disappointed his own father, Bartimaeus Malfoy, by coming home without a penny to spare. But then, he got lucky. He married into a rich family with only one member left, Annabell Alkahest. He became rich beyond his family's wildest dreams. And that fortune continues to exist to this day. He died many years later, of Dragon Pox, with only one son, my father, who only had one son, myself."
She continued staring. He spoke slightly louder and slower. "Are you brain dead or just hard of hearing?"
She snapped out of it. "I-I-I was c-c-c-coming down here to see why you left."
He raised an eyebrow in a manner that suggested she was an idiot. "Because certain professors of Defense Against the Dark Arts classes do not get along with former Death Eaters. It is anyone's guess why."
At this he smiled, and Hermione looked down. Damn it, he thought, that is exactly the worst response that was possible.
She said, "While, see you at the start-of-term feast."
And she walked away, disappointed.
