Draco Malfoy stood at the apparition point in Hogsmeade, as ready as he could be for his last year at Hogwarts. After two weeks in Azkaban and a bit more than a month and a half on house arrest, it was quite strange to be around witches and wizards once more. Despite there being no more Dementors at the magical prison since the Dark Tosser's defeat, Draco still had that sinking feeling of hollowness in his very bones. Not even the late summer sun kissing his pale skin was enough to get rid of the chill that had settled in his heart for the better part of a year now.
The Wizengamot's ruling still rang in his ears. He could swear that sometimes the booming voice of Minister Shacklebolt resounded from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, almost as though it were mocking his predicament.
"You are sentenced to house arrest on Malfoy Manor until the 1st of September of the present year. On that day, you are to attend the special Eighth Year along with your classmates at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your wand will be held by the Ministry of Magic until the day before the start of term, with no right to judicial appeal on the matter."
He thought that the apathy and anger would be gone the day they gave him his wand back. However, the initial giddiness that tingled throughout his very being when he held his once-beloved hawthorn again ebbed away fairly quickly.
Draco sighed, nervously raking his fingers through his disheveled blond hair. He kind of knew what was coming to him —the stares, the hexes, and maybe fights, even— but it all seemed so much better than being in his tainted childhood home… His beloved safe-space that was still haunted by all the evilness that dwelt within its walls.
He strolled towards the school grounds with an apparent relaxation undeserving of someone like him. He, who helped malice incarnate achieve one of the foulest plans ever conceived…
In truth, he held his hidden wand so tightly between his long fingers that his knuckles turned an even grimmer tone of white. He hoped that, to the hateful onlooker, he was just a young man that was not worth their time. Yet, he knew he needed to have protective spells on the tip of the tongue and his wand at his fingertips just in case.
Not only the side of the Light hated him, no. Former Death Eaters and their families swore revenge on the Malfoys for their cowardice and treason. The surname he had once flaunted with so much pride was now —ironically— covered in mud. Outside of the wards of the Manor, anybody could get to him. He had no doubt they would try.
His nerves were settled for the most part once he saw the skeletal, dark beings waiting for him. He was relieved that the Headmistress had kept her word, for he hadn't really expected anybody to come to his aid. He was to be the last one carried on to Hogwarts to prevent any further altercations, or so her letter said.
With all those thoughts flurrying through his head, he nearly missed the curly-haired brown cat that was walking haphazardly in his same direction.
He was relieved when he saw Theo and Blaise sitting sheepishly on the farthest corner of the Slytherin table. They had been able to write to each other right after his trial, and he was more than pleased to see them both there, just as their correspondence had promised. Re-doing this year would have been a nightmare without them both.
He sat next to them nonchalantly, ignoring the whispers of those he passed by.
Death-Eater. Fucker. You should've stayed in Azkaban. I hope you rot in hell. Why didn't you die? You don't deserve to be here. Bloody traitor.
All of these insults and more he bore in silence, with the expressionless mask he had been taught to wear. Meanwhile, his mind neatly organized his feelings into bookshelves, effectively shutting himself from the outside world.
"Welcome, dear students, to a new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
The Headmistress had stood up from the chair at the other end of the Great Hall while Draco and his fellow Slytherin friends exchanged quiet greetings. Her voice effectively silenced the chatter, beckoning everybody's attention with her head held high.
"Before we begin the Sorting Ceremony, there are some things I'd like to share with you all."
Her gaze drifted from face to face, settling on the herd of amazed and frightened First Years who were silently gawking at everything around them at the door.
"These past few years have been polluted by hatred and darkness. Our noble school was the battleground for one of the most horrifying fights of all time against one of our oldest enemies: fear. Some of us were lucky enough to survive, while the same thing cannot be said for many others."
Mcgonagall's eyes glazed over, and she looked towards the enchanted night sky as if asking for help from the heavens.
"The lives we lost, the friends and families who gave their very existence for peace cannot and will not be allowed to go to waste. It is up to us to stop this cycle of hate and pain, and this begins today."
The Great Hall was silent as she perused her students' faces. Some of them were smug, others were triumphant. Among those, there were others who were scowling or sneering. There were even some tearful visages scattered in between.
Draco could feel the piercing stares of the students around him.
"It is often said that the victors write History. It is well-known that it's human nature to seek vengeance, even after all has been lost. This is why there are some new rules being set from this moment on. Firstly, discrimination of no kind will be allowed. Not on the classrooms, not on the Halls, not on the dorms nor even in Hogsmeade. This will be regardless of a student's preference during the war or their house."
Indignant claims arose from Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables while the Slytherins cowered or scoffed in contempt. Mcgonagall, however, silenced them all with a sharp hand gesture.
"There will be no exceptions. It is up to us to stop the madness," she exclaimed with a strong Sonorus charm to her throat, "and there will be severe consequences for those who defy my orders, including expulsion."
The Great Hall was completely silent once more, and she resumed her speech as if nothing had happened.
"Secondly, we will perform several activities to promote inter-house unity during the school year. If you wish, you may now seat at any table with your friends, except for today and for the End-of-Term Feast."
"You may have noticed that there are some familiar faces back in Hogwarts that, perhaps, you did not expect to see here. This is because, due to last term's circumstances, Seventh Year students were offered the chance to come back and complete their education on a special Eighth Year. They will share lessons with the Seventh Years, but will not return to their old dorms. Instead, on account of their age and other factors, we have created a special dorm which will be shown to them after the Feast. They may, however, return to their common rooms in order to spend time with their friends from other years. In addition, they will be given extended curfew and special Hogsmeade privileges on the weekends, providing they come back at reasonable hours."
An excited chatter befell the room once more. With a gentle smile and a dramatic pause, the new Headmistress finished her speech.
"Due to some unforeseen state of affairs, we shall announce the new Head Boy and Head Girl as soon as possible. Meanwhile, you shall follow the lead of the Prefects. Once again, I welcome you to the School, and hope we all have a wonderful and uneventful year. Let the Sorting Ceremony begin!"
Draco's eyes seemed to be glued to the huge group of newcomers, but he never once clapped when any scared eleven or twelve-year old was sorted into Slytherin. Instead, his mind wandered, and his right hand nervously fumbled with the "Head Boy" badge on his pocket. As he did, he surreptitiously sneaked some glances to the Gryffindor table.