Disclaimer: Not mine. -sniff-

Chapter 2

This chapter is going to be from Draco's PoV. Enjoy!

I have no idea why the Weasley girl was being nice to me. We were sworn enemies, yet she still allowed me to sit with her and she even shared her Chocolate Frog with me. Father would have a conniption if he knew that I had taken something offered by a Weasley, but that was the point, wasn't it? My father was not my master anymore; I had no master except for myself. If I wanted to sit with the Weasley girl, then I could. And I was.

She didn't threaten me or try to curse me; hell, she didn't even indulge in trying to torment me with the events of the previous year like her nitwit brother would have done. She was different, this she-weasel. She was quiet and introspective; perhaps she even had some intelligence. Her hair wasn't quite as red as that of her brother's; it was a deep crimson, falling over her shoulders and covering her face. It was as if she were trying to shield herself from the horrors of the world. Was it possible that she had more mettle than I gave her credit for? She had to have strength, to have survived the Dark Lord's possession her first year. I knew it was Father's fault that she had faced that horror, but it was not my fault, and therefore I felt no remorse.

I expected the rude comments from the majority of the students, but obviously the little weasel did not. I saw her turn to me to find out my reaction, but I did not expect her reaction. The girl took me by the hand and led me over to her idiot friends. Really, what was she thinking? I was used to having no one show me pity or kindness, but here the girl weasel, who was supposed to be my sworn enemy, was taking me by the hand and walking in front of me, as if she was trying to protect me from everyone's words. I tried and failed to keep the look of surprise off my face. I don't know why I allowed her to pull me after her like a lapdog, but I did. Her hand was warm and it slightly scorched my skin. It was nice, but I wasn't about to admit that.

When we finally reached the castle, I had to leave her. I could see disappointment flicker slightly across her face. She wasn't bad-looking, really; she was a pureblood, after all. Even though her family were blood traitors, she had a grace and pride about her that didn't seem characteristic of her family at all. In fact, if it weren't for her secondhand robes, I wouldn't have even known that she was a Weasley. Pity she was in Gryffindor.

I sat down at the Slytherin table and tried to ignore the stares. I leaned forward and feigned listening to that fool McGonagall make a speech about house unity and other useless things, before the feast began. I was famished, seeing as I'd had nothing all day save the half of a Chocolate Frog, but the whispers escalated as soon as I picked up my fork.

"You've got a lot of nerve, showing your face here after what happened last year." The face of Blaise Zambini came into focus from across the table, his features hardened into a tight mask. Pansy Parkinson sat to his right, and she was doing all she could to avoid my gaze. Really, the strumpet knew about the plan all along, so she shouldn't act surprised that it was actually carried out. Sometimes I wondered if she actually had a brain.

"Nice to see you too, Zambini." I replied easily, stabbing a piece of potato with as much grace as I could muster before putting it into my mouth. I chewed resolutely and ignored all the chatter around me, gazing off into space and considering my summer. It had been quite possibly one of the worst of my life, and I was still not quite sure what I was going to do. There was only one thing that I knew that I had to do, but it would have to wait. After all, I couldn't kill my father while I was in hiding from the Death Eaters, could I? It was true that my mother's life had been forfeit for my stupidity, but it was my father's hand that killed her, and my father's mistake to begin with that had gotten us into this mess. It was one thing to give your only son up for a lifetime of service to a madman; it was quite another to murder your wife in cold blood for said madman. My father would pay for my mother's life.

My mother was an amazing witch. She essentially raised me, seeing as how my Father was always working or out of town on 'business', and she didn't even allow the house elves to help with my welfare until I was old enough to have playmates. My mother wasn't fond of Pansy Parkinson at all, so when Father demanded that she be invited over on a regular basis for play dates, my mother left us to the house elf's care. She read to me, taught me to read, and taught me about my heritage, and she loved me. My mother was the only person in the world who actually knew me, and she was gone. Though I would never admit it, I was distraught.

I snapped myself out of my nostalgic moment and could feel eyes on me. It was not someone staring at me in the hateful way that everyone around me was; it was as if someone were trying to read my thoughts. In fact, I could feel someone reaching out their mind for mine. I looked up and across the hall, right into the eyes of Ginevra Weasley. Her fork was hovering a few inches from her mouth, but her eyes were fixed intently on me. I caught her gaze and she averted her eyes, stopping to take a bite of food into her mouth. She was sitting with Longbottom near the end of Gryffindor table, and she nodded periodically at whatever it was the fool was blathering on about. I looked around the hall and noticed that very few students had actually returned to Hogwarts. There were ten to twenty students at each table, except for Slytherin table, which housed four, including myself. A few of the students had a haunted, hunted look about them, but some of them managed to smile and laugh as if nothing was wrong. War was all around us, but there were some who managed to carefully tiptoe around that fact and carry on with their lives. I saw Ginevra laugh, and it caused an emotion I could not place within me.

It was then that the old fool McGonagall stood again. She said that since there were so few students, it would be pointless to separate them all up into their houses, so everyone would be housed within what used to be Gryffindor tower, because it was the largest of the dormitories. I was shocked; was the woman mad? Did she honestly think that cramming the entire school into one dorm, with one common area, would work? My eyes automatically sought out Ginevra's, and it seemed that she had chosen that moment to seek out mine as well. She smiled slightly, and I could feel a smile curling the corners of my mouth. Really, it was such a foreign feeling; why would anyone want to subject themselves to that kind of torture? It didn't matter anymore, really.

After that meal I was feeling rather sleepy, but I was set that I would finish the day's events in my journal before retiring to bed. I joined the rest of the student body in heading up the stairs, not sure where this year would lead, but sure that I would not stand idle and let it happen on its own. I would not spend another year doing what another would have me do; this year was mine to do with as I pleased. Somewhere in the fray Ginevra had crept up beside me, and she looked up at me. Really, what was the point of her being so much shorter than me? Couldn't she do anything to grow? It occurred to me that she might be lonely from Potter and his band of morons being gone, but that thought quickly banished itself from my head. She seemed to independent to let their stupidity affect her. I felt her hand seek out mine, and once again I allowed her to. We walked up toward the dorm hand-in-hand, so close that our robes billowed together and it would have been impossible for anyone to tell that our fingers had entwined together.

A.N: I know this was not quite as long as I would like my chapters to be, but it's a little bit longer than the last chapter. I'm working on working myself up to writing a lot for a chapter, but either way it goes, this chapter is up the same day as the last chapter, so it shouldn't give anyone any reason to complain. Cheers!