A/N: This chapter takes place during chapter nine of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire—"Aboard the Hogwarts Express."

Disclaimer: What Draco says to Ron about his robes is very similar to the actual scene in "Aboard the Hogwarts Express."

Chapter Four: September Again

Draco's eyes fluttered open on the morning of September first, and he had the fleeting realization that in just a few short hours, he'd be back at Hogwarts. He'd have freedom again—or at least as close to it as he could get in a life like his. He glanced around his room, and, upon deciding there was nothing left he needed to pack, began to haul his suitcase downstairs.

He paused when he heard his father shouting. Better not get involved in that, Draco thought to himself. He turned back around and headed back in his room. He'd go downstairs when they were done fighting.

Narcissa and Lucius argued constantly, and Draco hated it. They couldn't even pretend to get along most of the time. It was one of many reasons he never wanted to get married.

He held his breath, trying to hear what had gotten his parents all bent out of shape, but it was useless. They were two floors down, and there was too much to muffle the sounds in between the everything.

He thought that perhaps he could go down and try to help but immediately recycled that idea—whenever he tried to intervene, their hostility turned to him.

Draco plopped down on his bed instead and listened to the yells from the first floor. He wondered if they had ever loved each other, or if their marriage had been arranged by his grandparents. He never asked that sort of thing, mainly because his parents acted as though it were a sin to question things.

He heard silence from below him and contemplated heading back down—at least until his father started to shout again.

Never mind, he thought.

Kings Cross Station.

Lucius always hated it—Muggles—but Draco liked it. The hustle and bustle of everything, the way everyone just seemed so intent on getting wherever they were heading, and how all the families seemed to get along just fine. It was as if they didn't have any problems at all.

Before the brick barrier, Lucius turned to his son and said, "Well, I am afraid this is where we leave you Draco. Narcissa and I have places to be."

Draco just nodded, knowing there would be nothing else except that from his father.

"We'll see you at the end of the school year. I promise to write to you," Narcissa smiled.

Great. Just what I need. A constant reminder of how much of a disappointment I am from you.

"Okay," was all Draco said before he turned around and walked through the barrier. He didn't look back once.

He emerged in Platform 9 ¾. A smile was brought to his face for the first time in ages. This was the only moment all year that he got a moment to himself, a moment to take it all in.

As he surveyed the platform, his eyes fell on the Weasleys, Potter, and Granger. They all looked so happy together. A pang filled the hole inside his chest.

He took a deep breath and kept moving.

It felt like forever before he finally reached the train, despite the fact that he wasn't looking forward to being inside. He didn't really look forward to a lot of things though, it seemed.

He shuffled inside, lost in his head, and plopped down in an empty compartment, letting out a heavy sigh. Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Gregory Goyle, and Blaise Zabini were all right behind him.

Pansy planted herself firmly next to Draco, much to his distress. Gregory, Theo, and Blaise sat down around him, chatting happily to each other. Or rather, Theo and Blaise were talking and Greg was nodding along. Draco doubted his vocabulary was large enough to actually follow what they were saying.

Suddenly, Vincent Crabbe bolted in, out of breath. Almost immediately afterward, the train started to move.

"A little late, are we?" Draco asked smoothly. "Did you forget when the train leaves again?"

"Yeah," Vincent said thickly. "My mum dropped me off here a while ago, but I sort of forgot."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Excellent."

He turned his head to the window, and stopped listening to the conversation from there, staring out into the rainy world.

The downpour drowned out the other Slytherins' voices, which he was glad for. He closed his eyes lightly, and even started to drift off for a bit… at least until Pansy started poking him.

"Draco," she snapped. "Are you listening to me?"

"Absolutely," he said sarcastically.

"I said, do you know what's going on at Hogwarts this year?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, we don't, so why don't you tell us?"

"My father told me that Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are coming to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament."

"No way!" Theo exclaimed. "Awesome!"

"But we won't be able to compete," Draco added.

"Why not?" Blaise grumbled.

"Only people older than 17 can. It's a new rule this year."

"That sucks," Theo grumbled. "Oh well. My parents wanted to send me to Durmstrang, actually."

"Mine too," Draco said. "I think I would have liked it there, to be honest, but my mother felt that it was way too far away." He glanced back outside. It was raining harder now.

"I don't think Durmstrang sounds all that great," Blaise cut in.

"Oh, you just don't like the cold," Theo snorted.

"Okay, okay, that's true. If it weren't so cold, I think I would like it there."

"And, to be fair," Theo added, "You don't actually know for sure if it's cold or not."

"True, true," Blaise agreed.

Draco closed his eyes again and listened to the rain. He wished those fools would just shut up. Their voices annoyed him. Hell, they annoyed him.

"Draco," Theo said. Draco didn't respond. "Draco," he repeated.

"What?" Draco asked, sitting up, slightly ticked off. He glanced outside. Had he fallen asleep? How long had passed?

"It's lunch." That answered his question. "Also, there are some pesky Gryffindors over there. You, Vince, and Greg should go bother them."

The other Slytherins all smiled encouragingly, clearly wanting to see the Gryffindors get put down.

Draco glanced over and saw a few Gryffindors entering the compartment next to his. One of the ones already there was Potter.

Should he? It was probably best not to argue, as that wouldn't seem like the petulant jackass his fellow Slytherins had grown to know and love.

"Sure," he said. "Get up, you lumps," he commanded.

He opened the door and walked over, folding his arms.

Weasley was saying something about being up in the top box. They must be talking about the Quidditch World Cup.

"Hello," he said in the most arrogant tone he could manage. "Look at what we have here," he smirked. "And by the way, you're never going to be in the top box again Weasley, so why don't you savor the memory."

"Oh screw off, Malfoy," Weasley grumbled.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure we didn't invite you in here," Potter chimed in.

Draco refrained from saying that was the point.

"Really now? Interesting." His eyes landed on something hanging from Weasley's trunk. "What is that? Is this what you were planning on wearing to the dance? I mean, I'm sure they would fit right in with everyone else's in the late nineteenth century…"

"What dance?" Ron asked.

"Oh, you don't know?" Draco asked incredulously. "I thought your father would tell you. But of course, they probably wouldn't trust him with something like that." Draco continued by saying that his father had told him weeks ago and had heard about it from the Minister.

"You know what?" Potter stood up. "Why don't you just leave Ron's father out of this. You and I both know that yours is just a suck up."

Draco glared at Potter. "That is not true. My father just knows where to make friends and where to make enemies. Unlike yours, who went and practically begged to leave you as an orphan, and Weasley's over there who clearly doesn't even know the first thing about what's going on in the Ministry. But really, is it such a surprise? Both of your fathers are Moodblood lovers… or I suppose was is a more appropriate term for yours, Potter—"

Weasley stood up, pulling out his wand. "Shut it, Malfoy."

"And what are you going to do about it, Weasley?" Draco knew he was pushing the limit. He should probably leave. "We all know you don't have what it takes to back up most any threat you make."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked back to his compartment. Vince and Greg had the good sense to follow him.

Draco sat back down and looked out the window again as Pansy rested her head against his shoulder. He absentmindedly pushed her off, before realizing that he couldn't do that. "Sorry," he muttered, before resting his own head against the window.

Chapter Release Date: March 17, 2018

A/N: Do you guys realize that yesterday marked six months since when the original one-shot version of this story came out? I don't know how it's been that long already.