Please let me know if I made any mistakes in writing, I don't have a beta. Thanks
-Chapter 2-
The rest of the summer passes in a daze. Every day I ask for news on my mother, and every day there is none.
Each week a new Ministry official comes in and introduces themselves, but I can't find it within me to remember their names.
Most of my time is spent in bed, staring at the white walls, watching my life deteriorate before my eyes. Most days I don't leave the bed, and I often forget to eat.
When in bed I think of the war, and of my mother, and my father, Dumbledore, even Fred Weasley... The list goes on endlessly.
The last and most recurring name on my list of regrets is Harry Potter. I had been so cruel, so childish. We were only products of the same war, doomed to be enemies. It made me more sad than it probably should have.
~0~
I receive my Hogwarts summons letter a week before school starts.
The weeks ministry official brings me to Diagon Alley for supply shopping, but I don't need much. I just end up staring blankly into the Quidditch supply shop window, reminding me of yet another thing I had been a failure at.
My father had taught me how to fly. He had been so proud when he saw me play at school, winning countless matches against Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. But he always told me how much it would mean if I beat Harry Potter. Beating Harry Potter had been a main goal of mine for most of my formative youth. It all seemed so ridiculous now.
We return to the safe house a couple hours later.
~0~
Boarding the Hogwarts express is unnerving. The last time I had been on this train I had thought would be my last, yet here I am again. With less friends but heavier shoulders. I find an empty booth and plop down on the bench, resting my head against the window and closing my eyes.
The door of my compartment is whipped open with a resounding SLAM, and my head snaps up to stare at the intruder.
Pansy and Blaise stroll in, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I had wanted to be left alone, undisturbed.
"Drake, we haven't heard from you all summer! I had to hear from the Prophet, of all places, that you and your mother had been acquitted!" Pansy whines loudly.
Blaise, quiet as always, sits down across from me and crosses his legs, looking mildly bored. His eyes are sharp, though, and miss nothing.
"It's a long story, Pans." I mutter, wanting her to go away so I could sleep. Apparently this wish was in vain, because as soon as I go to rest my head back on the window, Pansy plunks down heavily beside me and grabs my arm. Her fingernails are long and polished, sharp as talons.
"We have the whole train ride, Draco. Tell us why you've been neglecting us!"
Blaise smirks across from me but says nothing, apparently not as concerned as Pansy with my supposed "neglect".
I sigh, coming to terms with the apparent impossibility of getting some sleep. I steel myself for a long, highly energetic conversation, before beginning to explain the events of my summer with Pansy pitching in a question or exclamation every sentence or two.
I look at Pansy with her big, sympathetic eyes, and choose instead to look out the window into the corridor of the train.
Blaise chuckles at something Pansy says, but stays otherwise silent. Pansy launches into another round of questions that I answer grudgingly, apparently oblivious to my disinterest in the conversation.
A flash of dark hair catches my eye from down the corridor, and as I watch, Potter comes into view with Weasley and Granger. Seeing Granger again spikes another wave of guilt- was I wrong about her, too? I wasn't sure anymore what was right or wrong. I knew now that Father's teachings concerning pure bloods and mudbloods were wrong, but Granger had been so snobbish since we were kids.
Nothing so dumb as blood status mattered now. I watch her, feeling guilty for calling her Mudblood all those times. It feels better remembering the time she punched me in third year. I laugh sadly to myself, making sure to inject a bit of self loathing in it before turning my eyes back to Potter.
That's the moment Potter decides to turn his head towards my compartment. He catches me looking at him and smiles, shocking me entirely.
"Drake? Draco, I asked you a question!"
I turn back to Pansy and try to mask my confusion, and ask her to repeat the question. I nod along, all while thinking of a certain pair of shockingly green eyes.
~0~
Upon arrival at my dorm in the newly re-purposed Eighth years floor of the castle, I unpack slowly. On either side of me Blaise and Theodore Nott each unpack by their respective beds. A perk of being an eighth year was only having two roommates rather than three, like previous years. That might also be due to the lack of other Slytherin boys, though, I think to myself.
This year, only nine Slytherins had returned as eighth years. Half the Slytherin seventh years had returned, and surprisingly few sixth years had returned. The younger Slytherin years seemed unaffected by the war, besides the few who had been the youngest members of known Death Eater families.
Besides myself, there were only four other Slytherin boy eighth years returned. Pansy, I knew, had to share a room with Astoria Greengrass and the twin girls whose names I had never learned. The four of them were the only Slytherin girls who had returned for an eighth year. I was surprised that Astoria had returned, but rumor had it that her and her younger sister's parents had been killed in the war and they were now living with distant relatives who'd had no known connection to the Dark Lord or his associates. .
The castle had been renovated over the summer, all repairs made to fix all damages after the war. Hogwarts had been restored to its previous glory, and another section of the castle had even been added, specifically with the eighth years in mind.
All four houses with eighth year students were housed on the same floor, with four separate dorms for each house and one common room. It was odd, having to move out of the dungeons, but it was even more odd entering the common room to see Gryffindors.
My limbs feel heavy with exhaustion; I idly wonder why, as I hadn't really done much all day. I finish unpacking and sit down on my bed, thoughts of sleep already entering my mind.
Pansy runs into our dorm yelling, causing Theodore to jump and run for cover behind his bed.
"Drake! Blaise! Did you see? We get our own bathrooms!" She shrieks. I cover my ears and turn to bury my face in my pillow.
Blaise responds for the both of us, "We haven't had the chance to look, Pans." Pansy leaps onto Blaise's bed, apparently hunkering down for an in-depth conversation.
"Theo!" Blaise shouts, his attention turned to the other boy. "What, are you afraid of girls or something?"
Theo blushes and walks around his bed, sitting on it so he was facing Pansy and Blaise. "No, of course not. Just a bit surprised to see her in the dorm, I guess. I do sleep here, mate."
"Not naked, I hope." Blaise says with that signature smirk of his. He's just trying to capitalize off of Theo's embarrassment, I can tell, but nonetheless Theo coughs awkwardly and looks down into his lap, seemingly searching for a response but coming up empty.
Pansy giggles and Theo blushes a deeper shade of pink. I groan into my pillow before deciding I could no longer stay in my dorm to listen to such dull conversation. I wave behind me to the room's occupants as I leave, with only a brief complaint from Pansy as to why I was leaving.
Without bothering to respond, I head towards the common room.
The common room looks nothing at all like the common room in the Slytherin dungeons- it had the colors of all the houses, and was more light and open, more welcoming.
I didn't particularly care for the change of decor, but I didn't care about much lately anyways.
I make my way to the portrait hole entrance- the idea taken from the Gryffindor dormitories, Pansy had told me- and pass by a few Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors sitting on the couches.
There had been many more returned eighth years from the other three houses this year, outnumbering the Slytherins by far. Normally I would find discomfort from being at such a disadvantage, but I couldn't find it in myself to really care.
Absently, I notice that a couple of the Gryffindors on the couches include the Weasel and Granger, and this leads me to wonder where Potter was. Not that I really cared, or anything.
I shake my head to dismantle the thoughts of Harry as I step through the portrait hole and into the corridor.
I wander aimlessly for a half-hour or so, finding myself somewhere near (where I presumed to be, due to the Gryffindor traffic I had seen in this area in previous years) the Gryffindor dorms. I see a couple of figures turn around the corner towards me, and for reasons unknown, I duck into a pitch-dark adjacent corridor. I'm acting like a criminal, I berate myself silently. I am about to walk back out into the main corridor, the other occupants be damned, but pause when I hear a voice.
"Listen, Ginny, I just think maybe we should take a break." I cover my mouth to conceal my abrupt intake of breath. It was Potter outside the corridor, and he was breaking up with the girl-Weasel. My eyes are wide, the shock almost too much for me to take.
"Wait- what? What do you mean, Harry?"
"You know, see other people. I just think that after the war and everything, we each need time to be ourselves again. I don't think jumping back into a relationship would be the best thing for us."
I hear the girl-Weasel's watery intake of breath, and when she speaks, her voice is strained, as if she were holding back tears. "No, Harry… you can't do this! I thought… but...I love you." Her voice cracks on the last word.
"And I love you too, Ginny… I just think that this isn't the best thing for us. There's just a lot for me to come to terms with, and I need to be alone for awhile, without the stress of a relationship hanging over my head." Harry's voice is completely calm. He speaks in a low, soothing manner, trying to calm the she-Weasel before she breaks into hysterics.
His efforts go mostly wasted though, as I hear her break into muffled, hoarse sobs. I almost feel bad for her, but for some reason can't quite.
Her words come out in shaky stutters. "Is this… is this because of him? I've heard- Is it because of-"
Harry interrupts her in a rush, seemingly hurrying to stop her from completing the sentence. "No, no Ginny. This is just me. We just need time to be separate, for a while. I promise."
I can't help but feel annoyed that he had interrupted her before I could find out what she was saying. Him? Who could she have meant? His godfather, maybe? Black's birthday would be coming up soon, after all. I ponder.
It is quiet for a few moments, the girl- Ginny, I remind myself that it is rude to call people demeaning nick-names- calming her sobs until they are just whimpers.
Finally, Harry speaks. "Are you alright, Gin?"
She sniffles and murmurs a weak, "Yeah, I guess. Don't know what I'm gonna tell Mum though, she'll probably be more upset than me." They both share a sad laugh.
I hear footsteps, and assume they head back the way they had come. I risk a peek around the corner, and see that the hall is deserted.
Quickly I turn the corner and head down the hall, away from the Gryffindor tower.
Filch stops me as I am headed towards the Slytherin dungeons, for old time's sake, I had told myself.
"Jus' been by the Headmistress… want's t' see you. Best hurry along, don't want to be out past bedtime…" He shows his teeth in an awkward impression of a smile and limps off, his cat following behind him.
Sighing, I turn around, and make my way towards the Headmistresses office.
~0~
McGonagall greets me with a hug, surprisingly, when I walk into her office.
"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. I have been expecting your visit. Sit, please." She walks behind her desk and takes a seat just as I do. When I am seated in front of her with my hands in my lap, she offers me a sweet of some sort from a glass bowl. I had only been to the Head's office once or twice when Dumbledore was Headmaster, but I did notice that she had changed the kind of sweets in the glass bowl. Probably a painful memory, for her. She likely doesn't want to seem as if she is trying to replace him, I reason.
I decline gracefully, and wait for her to get to the reason of the visit.
"Draco, I have summoned you here to discuss your mother." I nod, and she continues. "As you know, I have contacted the Ministry with your case. They have so far made a great effort into locating your mother's whereabouts, but have not made much headway."
I brace myself for bad news, but McGonagall just smiles tightly and continues talking.
"As of yesterday, more Aurors have been called to join in this case. It is the biggest case so far since the war, you know. Everyone wants to catch these Death Eaters, so of course they are trying their hardest to search. And by finding them, hopefully they will also locate your mother."
My shoulders sag with relief. This was the most promising news I had heard for months. I had worried that the aurors on the case wouldn't have much motivation to search for Lucius Malfoy's wife, but upon hearing they weren't giving up, a large weight is lifted off my shoulders.
"I wanted to update you on the case, is all. I am in contact with the Minister himself, who is greatly interested in your mother's case. The men who they think have taken captive your mother are infamous murderers, and have escaped justice for far too long." At this she stands, and offers me her hand.
"Thank you, Headmistress. For letting me know. I am grateful that you have gone to such measures to help me." I take her hand, her grasp tight.
"We hold no ill will for you, Draco. Your father is gone, and you have a chance to remake yourself, and your name. You can live how you desire, now."
My eyes fill with moisture at her words, the hope and gratitude in my chest overwhelming. She seems to understand my inability to speak, because she releases my hand and pats my shoulder affectionately before ushering me to the door.
"You must get back before curfew, now. Can't get in trouble your first day back!" She laughs and turns back into her office. I wave as I descend the steps, feeling lighter than I have in months.
~0~
When I enter my shared dorm I see Theo haphazardly strewn across his bed, fast asleep. Blaise's curtains are drawn around his bed, letting me know he doesn't want to be disturbed.
The exhaustion I had felt earlier is gone, replaced by a restlessness. I know I couldn't sleep if I tried, so I head to the bathroom instead, tossing my clothes off as I turn the water on in the shower.
As I wait for the water to heat up, I keep my thoughts away from my mother. I don't want to find myself depressed again before I can enjoy this feeling of relief, and so I let my thoughts drift to other matters.
Soon enough, I find my mind centering around the conversation I had overheard earlier, between Potter and the girl Weasley. I don't let myself dwell on why the conversation intrigued me so much. I wonder why he had broken up with her- they had seemed so well suited. She was his best friends sister, and they were practically all set to be married the previous year. Not that I had been keeping tabs on Potter or anything, but you just hear stuff through the vine when you are keeping an ear out for whisperings of the Dark Lord.
I step under the hot spray and let my muscles relax. I grab the soap and start to rub it across my chest, letting the water wash away my stress and tension.
Harry Potter, and his pure green eyes. He always seemed to embody everything that was good. I found it much less annoying now than I did in previous years. My thoughts circle Harry, and I let myself think about him, how misconstrued my version of him in my head had been before the war. I'd had such jealousy and hatred towards him that I had been unable to see how good he was, how wrong I was when I called him a fame-whore or conceited. He had deemed me forgivable. He had saved my mother from prison. He had saved my life on multiple occasions, really. I certainly didn't hate him anymore, and I was no longer jealous of him, either. Maybe of the girl-Weasel- I shake my head vigorously, unwilling to follow that thought.
Harry was just a boy who had too much weight on his shoulders, too many expectations of him and too many demands. Just like me.
I feel almost guilty, for some reason, as I think of Harry. I look down to see that my hand had drifted during my musings, slowly caressing my prick, which is already half-hard.
It feels too good, and I hadn't felt good in ages, so I don't stop.
I try to think of nothing, to think of anything besides Potter- but my mind is stuck on his face after he gave me back my wand. As if he were seeing me for the first time.
Now that I was done with hating him, I could see all the good that made up Harry Potter. He was everything I had always wanted to be, everything I had always wanted, period.
I felt guilty, for having been such an instigator all those years. Harry obviously had had so much on his plate as it was, what with defeating the Dark Lord and all, and the last thing he had needed was me always at his back, starting fights and being an arse.
This leads my thoughts to Harry and his back…. and then Harry on his back… no, that wasn't right...me on my back, Harry leaning above me, his strong arms on either side of my head. He leans down for a quick, sweet kiss before thrusting his hips against mine, shooting pleasure through my stomach and up into my fingertips.
My body is responding to my thoughts, my cock becoming painfully hard. My hand moves quicker, my hips thrusting in time with each stroke.
I think of his eyes, and how kind he was to me after my trial, and the smile on the train...
My spine arches as I am washed with intense pleasure, a cry of "Harry!" on my lips as I come hard across the shower wall, the quickest I had ever come since I was thirteen.
As I come down from the post- orgasm high, I am shocked with myself. I shake my head, disbelieving. It wasn't like I was gay or anything… right? And obviously Harry wasn't gay either. The impropriety of wanking over someone-and someone forbidden, no less- in the shower was appalling to my purblooded sensibilities. I smirk.
I start laughing when I think of what my father would say. A slight whisper of a laugh turns into a full-blown fit, my stomach hurting and tears rolling down my face as I think of my father hearing about his son wanking to thoughts of Harry Potter the Chosen One, of all people.
I manage to calm myself down after a few minutes, until the laughter is only silent shakes of my shoulders.
I hear a rapid knocking on the bathroom door, and hear Theo's voice. "You've been in there for ages, Draco. The rest of us need to take a piss, mate!"
I quickly wash down my body, erasing any evidence of my activities from earlier, and turn off the shower.
As I fall asleep that night I realize that my time in the shower had been the first time I had let myself go, and let myself laugh, in months. And all thanks to Harry Potter, no less.
The thought seems absurd, but I let myself relax into my blankets.
0*0*0*0
Notes:
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