Chapter 27
Draco Malfoy was absolutely mortified. He sat in the WC brooding for what felt like an hour. He couldn't believe how abysmally stupid he had really been. How simple was a locking charm, really? He didn't know where his head had been lately.
Well actually, he did know where it had been. He'd been dwelling far too much on his mother's death. It was just that she had been the one spark of light in his life. His father treated him like a filthy toerag, but she had loved him, truly loved him. He feared that he wouldn't find anyone to love him as much as she had.
His mother had put so much effort into making sure he was brought up right, but was still happy at the same time. She knew his father had been hurting him, beating him. She always doted on him, and when he got older and could use magic, she'd taught him simple spells to heal the cuts and hide the bruises.
She'd even mended a broken bone once when Draco's father had been extremely angry. It was the day the Dark lord had attempted to solicit Draco into the service. Draco had offered to finish school first so that he could use magic legally outside of Hogwarts and his home. Truly, he had no intention to join Voldemort. He was not a political man, nor was he a soldier. His father must have seen the truth in his deferral, for that night, he came to Draco's room, as he often did after Death Eater meetings. The beating he had been given rivaled the deepest pains he had experienced in his life, including the agony when he was turned into a ferret. Believe it or not, having your very bones, skin and organs transfigured is not a good feeling in the least.
There was something broken in Narcissa's eyes that day. She had snuck up to Draco's room after Lucius had left the Manor in search of booze and loose women. She found her baby boy lying on the cold marble floor of his bedroom, shivering from pain and fear. She mended his body, but there was little hope for his soul.
Draco was crying, remembering his mother's kindnesses. But there was only so much that he could do. He could be a better person. He had decided to try to become a healer after school. Maybe he could make his mother proud after all; give his family name a smidgen of real honor.
Sighing, Draco grabbed his duffel from the foot of his bed. With a flick of his wand at the trunk at the foot of the bed as well, the clothes flew out and found their places in the closet. He went through the duffel by hand, though. He had stuffed it full of books posters and other things that he always had to make his dorm more like home. Satin pillowcase, silk sheets, animated miniature dragon for his bedside stand, a Falmouth Falcons poster… Draco pulled everything out and set up his room, until all that was left in the bag was the two-way journal. He'd left the other one for the girl from the chat room to find at Florean Fortescue's. He hoped she had found it after all.
Draco ran his hand over the cover, feeling the soft yet firm dragon leather beneath his fingertips. A moment later, his name, Draco Andelind Malfoy, appeared across the cover in script. He opened the journal to the first page. Smoothing the page with a hand to hold the book open, he reached to his nightstand to grab an eagle feather quill and inkwell. He thought for a moment about what to write, when a word appeared on the page.
Hello.
It was as if she knew he was waiting for her to write! Draco tried to calm himself down. Play it cool.
Hello, Patty.
Hey Jake
How was your summer?
Why did she ask that? She sounded absolutely boring!
It was alright…
I seem to remember a date I had scheduled, but the girl bailed on me…
I did not! You left me there waiting for you!
Well it looks like you already received my apology, since you're using it.
Hermione smiled… he had a humor that was almost a little cheeky, but it had kind undertones.
This is so weird…
Draco stared at the page for a moment. What was weird about them talking? They were just a Gryffindor and a Slytherin using some secret enchanted journal to talk since they had met using muggle artifacts over the summer. Ok yeah. It was weird.
What?
Whoa, you're losing it, girl.
How do you know I'm a girl?
I just assumed your name was Patricia or something…
Haha, just kidding, I'm a girl.
Whew!
Anyway, classes start tomorrow, so I should get some rest, it's been a crazy day already.
Anything interesting happen?
Just stupid drama. First day back and it's already begun! I mostly just wanted to see if you'd activated your journal yet.
Okay, well sleep well in Gryffindor tower… you can't tell but I'm scowling at that. It's very menacing.
I will… don't get eaten by the giant squid in your dungeon lair.
Draco laughed out loud at her farewell. If she only knew how creepy that old squid really was. She'd never go swimming in the lake again. Draco flipped the journal shut, but he did it a little too quickly, giving himself a paper cut in the process. A solitary droplet of blood snaked its way down his finger, but Draco was calm. He had had worse injuries than this every single day of his childhood. Grabbing his wand in his non-dominant hand, he held it as steady as he could and aimed for his right index finger. "Episkey," he incanted, watching the tiny wound sew itself up, as if stitched by a miniature invisible elf.
Wiping the blood on the offending towel from earlier in the night, he decided to test out that new shower.
This time, he remembered to lock the door, and enjoyed a long, hot shower, before slipping between the silk sheets of his bed, and falling asleep soundly.
Draco dreamt that night of beautiful mermaids with auburn brown hair leaping from water made of blue tile under a full bright moon. The mermaids wouldn't let him catch them though, and try as hard as he might; he spent the whole dream chasing them.
When he woke up, he didn't remember his dream except for a lingering feeling of frustration.
Stomping around his room, he gave in to his frustration and let a scowl cover his face. That was what everyone expected, anyway. He might as well give the people what they wanted.
Draco stood in front of his closet for a moment, before pulling out his clothing for the day. Anyone who believed a school uniform suppressed individuality was completely mad. Draco had so many incarnations of what the school uniform required that it was ridiculous. For the jumper, he had 3 long sleeve, 2 short and 4 vest style, in organic wool, merino wool and angora. He had 10 ties in varying shades of green and silver, varying in fiber from silk to satin to even one cotton tie that he wore in the summer. As for pants, he had black, charcoal, grey and silver, in cotton, and linen.
Really there was no reason, even with a dress code, that anyone should look less than their best. Well, except Weasley. Draco scoffed, imagining the limited wardrobe that family had. His ginger hair and overgrown man boy look didn't help things either.
Draco grabbed his messenger bag from the hook inside his closet door, and stuffed a couple rolls of parchment in, as well as his eagle feather quill, his backup quill and his black inkwell, which he made sure had a tightly fastened lid.
Draco checked his platinum ivory-faced watch and saw that there were 20 minutes left in breakfast. Plenty of time, considering he lived not 15 feet from the Great Hall. He could really get used to living here, if it weren't for Granger. He rolled his eyes and pushed open the door to the common area, where he, of course, saw Granger getting ready for class.
