The train arrived at the station by Hogwarts well into the night. All the students bustled off, just like every other year; the first years went off with Hagrid, whom Draco still personally disliked, and the rest of the students headed back to the castle in carriages drawn by invisible horses. Their school robes had been put on, and Draco found himself making his way out with Pansy at his heels.

"We should go find the others," Pansy said offhandedly. Draco didn't say anything. "Would you like to?"

"I don't care."

So, she tugged him further down toward the carriages. When she spotted the usual group of Slytherins chatting off to the side, she made her way over. Draco recognized Blaise, Theodore, Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent all standing in a huddle. Each of them looked rather pleased about something. "Hello everyone." Pansy greeted.

"Hello Pansy," Blaise returned, "Draco."

Draco nodded, not really in the mood to talk. But they made him join the conversation soon enough, and he didn't need to act too surprised over the topic they had decided to choose.

"So you've all heard about the Death Eaters escaping? My father said the ministry is all worked up over it, and they've gotten the dementors back guarding the castle," Blaise started.

"Yes, I heard. My father sent me a letter already, but he didn't say where he was," Theodore added. "I don't blame him. They say as soon as they're caught, they get the dementor's kiss." All of them appeared to shiver at the thought. All except Draco.

Crabbe noticed Draco being more silent than usual, and he used an arm to elbow him into the center of the group. "So have you heard anything, Draco?" Millicent asked. They all looked to him, since they still considered him as the leader of their group. Draco would give anything to not have it that way anymore; he just wanted to be left alone with all information regarding his father. It managed to make him feel sick every time he was brought up.

However, as much as he'd like to stay silent, they'd only think something was wrong, or that he'd possibly gone onto the 'good' side. If that happened, one of them was bound to let their parent know, who were bound to let his mother know, or maybe even his father, and he would be in for worse. This is what he got for telling a small lie to his housemates. He sighed, and straightened up, trying to keep himself calm.

"Yes, I have heard something. My father sent me a letter too."

"Oh, what did he say? Anything about what they're planning to do?" Theodore asked.

"No, he wasn't able to give me any details. He had me meet him though, and it was lucky he didn't get caught. It was quite crowded where he had chosen, and he knew it wouldn't be safe to go back to our house." Draco shrugged, but forced a well-practiced smirk to appear on his face. "But I'm pretty sure they're going to do something that's worth their time, don't worry."

The others grinned and nodded, and then began whispering to eachother again as they split up into two separate carriages. Draco climbed into one with Pansy and Blaise, while Millicent, Theodore, Crabbe, and Goyle went into another. This was the second year the two larger boys weren't flanking Draco's sides; he'd decided he didn't need them protecting him anymore. It seemed childish and it was always mentioned when the Golden Trio chose to harass him.

The carriages steadily made their way to the front steps that led into the Great Hall, and he proceeded to climb out with the rest of the Slytherins. He was doing a fairly good job, he had to admit, on talking, laughing, and grinning in all the right places when he wasn't necessarily listening.

"Oh, look who it is! Scarhead and his two sidekicks, the Weasel and Mudblood," Pansy chided. Draco cast a cool glance to the side to see Pansy facing the Slytherins' three most hated people. They'd stopped in the middle of the hall to glare at them.

"Bugger off, Parkinson," Weasley said, looking irritated.

"Ooh, good one!" Pansy smirked. "And what makes you think I'd do that?"

"Just leave us alone for once in your pathetic lives," Potter replied tiredly.

"Did you have yourself a nice summer, Potter?" Blaise crooned, ignoring the comment.

"Yes, did you? I'm sure all of you are thrilled to know that your no-good parents are out rampaging all about Britain." Harry narrowed his eyes. He looked extremely angry.

"Fuck off, Potter," Draco snapped. His eyes narrowed just as well. He could see even more of that anger directed at him, once those pair of eyes met his.

"You fuck off, Malfoy," he retorted.

"No."

"Yes."

"You're just angry that you couldn't keep them locked up."

"No, I'm angry because they're all bastards," Harry growled. "And they don't deserve a second chance."

Draco suddenly took a step forward, so that he was a fair distance closer to the other boy. He felt furious all of a sudden, with no real reason at all. He had no reason to disagree with Potter's description of his father. None at all; in fact, he had a feeling that he'd agree if the circumstances were different. But that hatred was bubbling up again, and there was no way Draco could stop it.

"They'll come to kill you, Potter." His voice was a near whisper, his tone threatening.

"Not if I kill them first." Harry kept his gaze locked and steady on Draco's, his Gryffindor defiance keeping him in place. "Every last one of them."

Finally, after staring heatedly at Potter for what felt like several minutes, Draco backed away from him and joined the rest of the group again, who were watching him eagerly. They had probably wanted to see him curse the living hell out of the Golden Trio, or at least Saint Potter alone.

"Let's go..." Hermione motioned to the two boys before they started to head toward the Great Hall again. Most of the crowd of students had already gone inside.

"You should've punched him in the face," Blaise commented dryly.

"Yeah, did you hear what he said about our parents!" Theodore said angrily. His face seemed to be turning an angry red. Draco turned around to look at them.

"Really, do you want to get in trouble with one of the Professors on the first day?" He sighed, acting like it were the most obvious thing. Which it was, but Draco had a feeling he wouldn't have bothered to punch Potter even if he did have the chance.

He'd never admit that a small part of him, the part that was absolutely terrified of his father, wanted Lucius gone as much as Potter did.