Draco Malfoy stared at the scarlet steam engine before him. To say he wasn't exactly thrilled to be going back to Hogwarts to repeat his seventh year would be an understatement. He'd been dreading it for weeks now, but it was the last promise he'd made to his mother before she went to Azkaban to complete her year long sentence. He was regretting that promise as he watched the familiar scene of parents sending their children off and students enthusiastically greeting the friends they hadn't seen all summer. He saw many sad faces too. Students searching for friends only to remember that they were gone. He saw the apprehensive faces of the parents of the new first years who were sending their children to a school that had been a battleground only six months ago. He saw kids he had known most of his lift walk right past him as if he were invisible. And he was glad for it. He knew if they saw him they would hold him responsible as a Death Eater, even if the court hadn't. He couldn't blame them really.

He also felt the loss. As much as he'd hated Crabbe and Goyle toward the end, he couldn't help but miss them as he stood alone on the platform. No parents to send him off, no friends to greet, just Draco and his bad life decisions to keep him company. Running a hand through his blonde hair, he sighed and stepped onto the train without being noticed.

Silently slipping into an empty carriage, he sealed the door behind him, no longer beholden to the rules regarding magic outside of school. The train had been magically expanded this year to make up for the extra students, and Draco didn't relish the idea of sharing a cabin. After all, just because he wasn't an evil megalomaniac didn't mean he wasn't still a selfish prick. Glancing out the window, he saw the familiar faces of the so called Golden Trio. The sneer that came to his face was practically a reflex at this point. Though he literally owed his life to Potter. Twice over, after Potter had testified on his and his mother's behalf at their trials. He let the sneer fall and just observed.

They were surrounded by friends and worshiping fans smiling and laughing as if it was any other September 1st, but Draco knew better. He could see the circles under Granger's eyes, the extra weight around Weasley's middle, the slight gauntness to Ginny Weasley's face, and the slump to Potter's shoulders. He had spent years looking for their flaws to exploit, it wasn't difficult for him to see now. This summer had been hard for the heroes as well as the villains it seemed.

At least I still look good, he thought to himself drawing the shade and settling back in to the seat. The final whistle blew and Potter finally boarded the train along with the rest of the stragglers. A few people tugged at his door, but the spell held. He leaned back and closed his eyes, hoping this train ride would go by fast. Unlike past years where he spent the ride with his friends, excited to be going back to school and get away from the cold manor he called home, this time he closed his eyes and tried not to picture the faces of the dead.

Soon enough the train slowed and Draco woke from a surprisingly deep sleep. Yet, as always, he still felt tired. Exiting the train he heard the familiar "Firs' years o'er here" and was surprised to find it somewhat comforting. Until that is, he rounded the corner and came face to face with a thestral. He had been able to see them for a few years now, but they never ceased to unsettle him. He felt like they were judging him for the role he played in those deaths. Or rather, the lack of role. Though it was true he had never killed anyone, he had also never stepped in to save them either. Their milky white eyes followed him as he made his way to a carriage, seeming to see straight through him. Draco suppressed a shiver.

If the skeletal horses were judging him they at least seemed to understand his need for solitude and the carriage took off before any other students could climb in.

As the castle came in to view, Draco felt his apprehension rise. He couldn't help but think of the last time he was here. When a battle was raging and bolts of light were whipping past in every direction as witches and wizards fought for their lives. Everything had been such a blur that night. Longer than that night really. If he was being honest with himself, he didn't remember much of the last two years. But as he took in the castle, the highest tower stood out to him against the night sky. The place where Dumbledore-

He swallowed thickly. He wouldn't think of it. Not right now.

He moved his eyes to the beam of light at the castle's entrance and watched as other carriages arrived and students ran to the castle. When his turn arrived he climbed out of the carriage and gave a curt nod to the thestrals. Steeling himself, he entered through the large open wooden doors. The entrance hall had been repaired to it's former glory. He had been half afraid that the damage would still be there, but the bricks had been replaced and the paintings repaired. It was as if nothing had happened. Except for a plaque next to the Great Hall doors. It read:

"Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light
–Albus Dumbledore

May we never forgot the lives lost or the battle won

May 2nd, 1998"

Draco tore his eyes away from the plaque and looked into the great hall. Suddenly, he knew without a doubt that he absolutely could not go in there tonight. Not when the floor had been littered with bodies of the dead and the cries of the injured the last time he had been in there. He wasn't hungry anyway.

He waited until he saw a Slytherin prefect and pulled her aside.

"What's the common room password?" he asked, his voice a little raspy. Was this the first time he had spoken today?

"Er...well, I'm not supposed to say until after the feast," the girl said uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes.

He only looked at her and raised an eyebrow. That was all it took.

"It's 'tradition'," she said begrudgingly.

"Thank you," he said, walking away without another glance.

He walked the familiar path to his dorm, already planning on going straight to bed. He shouldn't have been surprised to find that the only bed in the room was his, but he was nonetheless. He'd known no other slytherins from his year would return, but seeing the empty room solidified it. He was just glad he didn't have to share with anyone new.

Not bothering to change he gracefully flopped on to his bed and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow was the first day of classes. Draco had never been one for bravery, but he knew he couldn't hide in his room for much longer. But for tonight, he could be blessedly alone. He would deal with tomorrow when it came.

And came it did. Much too early for Draco's liking.

He went through his morning routine and made his way to the great hall for breakfast. Luckily, no images of bodies invaded his mind this morning. He sat at an end by himself eating some toast as Professor Slughorn passed out timetables. First up was Transfiguration. He vaguely wondered if Professor McGonagall would teach the class as well as her headmistress duties as he wandered into the classroom.

A few students were already there; the Patil twins, Longbottom, Ernie something or other, and Potter, Weasley and Granger. He quietly took a seat in the back and pulled out the class book. He heard Granger laugh at something Weasley said as more classmates sprinkled into the class. She stood over their desks as the three of them all chatted about some nonsense or other. There was something different about her today, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

After a few more people joined the class, Granger finally left her friends. But instead of going to a desk she went to the front of the class.

"Hello everyone," she said, "as you know from the feast last night I will be teaching Transfiguration this year."

Everything she said after that was a buzzing in Draco's ears. That's when he noticed what was different. She was wearing plain black robes instead of her school robes.

Hermione Granger, his teacher? Oh fuck.