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HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Order of the Phoenix, Second Order, Former Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry)

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

I'm writing to ask for your consideration in joining a small team of students as 'Junior Staff' volunteers to help restore the classrooms and halls of Hogwarts before the upcoming Fall Semester. We understand that this is no small feat and, though we are magical beings, the sheer amount of work can only be done with the help of many willing participants. It will be a paid volunteer position and housing/meals would all be provided until the start of term, September 1st - after which you will transfer to your respective dormitory. Please send your reply by owl no later than June 1st, as we will need arrange living quarters before your arrival.

Restoration begins on the 5th of June.

Yours sincerely,

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress

DRACO scoffed at the letter, even though this had to be his 10th time rereading the text. Return to Hogwarts? Impossible. After the war, the Malfoy family had one motto: lay low. And he was doing a bloody fine job at it.

The criminal trials had taken place as soon as the Ministry could reconvene after Voldemort's demise, and those trials sent many of his former friends and their families straight to Azkaban. Because his family defected before the war finished, the Malfoys had all been pardoned for their crimes, including Draco's father, despite his Death Eater title.

The following month battling shame and confusion of his place in the conflict was the toughest of Draco's life, and he still couldn't shake the feeling of not belonging somewhere. He didn't belong to the dark side, and he very obviously didn't belong to the good. He was stuck in a neutral middle, coasting through life, unable to understand where he fit in the world.

He shook his head and tossed the letter aside. No way his father would agree to him going back anyway. That would break their 'lay low' motto.

"Draco dear, dinner is ready!" His mother's soft voice rang up the stairs of Malfoy Manor and into his room.

"Coming," Draco called back, moving away from his desk and making his way down to kitchen.

Even the walk through his own house caused Draco shame. Passing through the halls that had seen so many terrible acts as he had turned a blind eye. He couldn't explain the mental conflict, the moral battle he had endured every time he was made to watch or perform an act for the Dark Lord.

The mental tug-of-war between doing what you're told you were born to do versus doing what you know is the right thing to do - to speak this mental battle aloud would garner no sympathy from anyone, so he kept his mouth shut and dealt with it by himself. Maybe that's why he felt his sanity continue to slip away, slowly, each day he spent stuck within the walls of the manor.

The hardest place for Draco to go in the Manor was the landing of their staircase. The place where he watched Bellatrix Lestrange etch the word 'Mudblood' into the Granger girl's skin, and torture her with the Cruciatus Curse.

He had called Granger a 'Mudblood' too many times to count over their time together at Hogwarts - why did it bother him to see another witch do the same? He couldn't explain it, but reimagining the scene caused his blood to boil. Remembering her screams of pain, the tears in her eyes, made Draco want to subject himself to the Obliviate charm just so he didn't have to relive the day anymore.

Don't misunderstand, he still loathed the holy trinity, the heroes of Hogwarts, Potter and his band of misfits. But the second Potter saved him in Room of Requirement, Draco had become indebted to him. How do you repay someone for the debt of your own life?

Draco made it to the kitchen, where his doting mother and bitter father were already sat at the table.

The atmosphere within the manor was one of regret that Voldemort hadn't been successful in his quest to rule the wizarding world. It was clear Draco's parents still held on to their belief that families of similar status and history to theirs were a cut above the rest, meant for a greater life than those who happily tainted the clean blood of pure wizard families.

However, Lucius Malfoy had trouble meeting the eyes of his son these days, most likely ashamed of tarnishing the great Malfoy family name. In a post-Voldemort world, their pure bloodline meant very little. So his father kept his head down and avoided drawing any attention to them at all costs.

His mother, on the other hand, was the queen of acting as though the past 20 years had been nothing more than a big inconvenience, and life could essentially go on as if it had never happened. Even as Draco took his seat across from her at the table, she wore her usual soft smile. He was sure he must be one of the few people in the world to witness this smile Most people knew Narcissa Malfoy as a cold, standoffish witch. Only to Draco was she warm.

"You look thoughtful, Draco. Is something on your mind?" Narcissa grabbed his hand. Doting was slowly transforming to suffocating. Draco gave a curt nod and removed his hand to begin on his dinner.

"Fine," he quipped. "Just that bloody letter is all. I should just chuck it. No way they could get me back to that god awful school."

Narcissa and Lucius shared a look and Draco tried to read their expressions. Upon Lucius's face was a look of...what was it? Disgust? Detestation? His mother, however, was more sullen. It seemed like neither wanted to explain why, so Draco inquired.

"What's with the mood change? You don't actually think I should go back to Hogwarts, do you?" He snickered. The mere thought of his parents approving such a decision was borderline insane.

"It's not that we want you to go, dear, it's just..." Narcissa started, but was cut off as Lucius stood from his chair and walked over to the kitchen island. He thumbed through a stack of mail until he landed on the envelope he was looking for and stalked back to the table, tossing the letter next to Draco's dinner plate.

The envelope had already been open, so Draco removed the paper and saw it was also a letter but this time the sender was - The Council of Magical Law.

The blood drained from Draco's face. Their trials were over. Surely the Council couldn't go back on their verdict? Narcissa saw Draco's reaction and she sought to reassure him -

"It's nothing to worry over. It only explains the "Social Reintegration" requirements we were given in our trials," she said. Lucius gave a grunt as he shoveled his food around his plate. If looks could kill, his mash would be done for.

Narcissa continued, "Your father and I will be sent to the Ministry to support clean up and restructuring efforts of the Ministry offices. It's clearly less than ideal that we should have to fraternize with the very people we've been avoiding but," she sighed, "if it's what we need to do in order to live a normal life then we'll do what we're asked." She glanced pointedly at Lucius who only grunted once more.

"So I'm joining you at the Ministry, then?" Draco looked hopefully back at the letter in his hand, which apparently held his plans for the summer. He unfolded the letter.

"Not exactly.." Narcissa started, but Draco's attention was occupied now as he scanned the contents of the letter. Blah blah, Social Reintegration, blah blah, community service, blah blah, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry... Restoration...

Draco slammed his fist on the table exasperatedly. This time, he caught the attention of both his mother and father, who looked at him in surprise.

"So you knew about the letter?" Draco demanded. "You knew they wanted me to go back to Hogwarts?"

"Draco," his mother kept her usual cool tone, as if trying to reason with a child, "our family is in no position to argue with the Council. You know that."

"Do you think we want to be holed up in the Ministry of Magic, hm? With the likes of Shacklebolt and Weasley?" Lucius hissed, eyeing Draco for the first time in weeks. His fists were curled so tightly you could see their normally pale complexion turning vibrantly red.

Narcissa, clearly trying to defuse the tension, told Lucius to take his dinner in the formal dining room. Obviously glad to have a reason to leave, Lucius grabbed his plate and stalked off towards the adjoining room.

She turned back to Draco. "We didn't know you received a letter from Hogwarts, but we assumed it was coming. We received ours this morning."

So McGonagall sent the letter as a courtesy, but it clearly wasn't optional. He would be returning to Hogwarts in - he glanced at the calendar on the kitchen fridge - only 4 days.

"It's only a summer, dear. It'll be done before you know it." And with this final attempt at comforting Draco, Narcissa excused herself from the table and exited the kitchen.

As annoyed as he was at even the thought of having to walk the halls of Hogwarts again, at least it was work he'd be paid for. He could convince himself that it wasn't glorified community service, but more like a summer job. Maybe he'd even get to meet up with other former Slytherins who received a similar - what did they call it? - Social Reintegration assignment.

His family was lucky, he reminded himself. They could have had it a lot worse off.

So with those, slightly fanciful, positive affirmations, Draco left his half-eaten dinner for the staff to dispose of and made his way back to his room.

A summer away from the manor of bad memories. Away from his suffocating mother and resentful father. Before he could convince himself that skipping town and fleeing the country was a much more appealing option, Draco found a new piece of parchment and a quill and wrote 2 simple words back McGonagall.

Dear Professor McGonagall,

"I accept".

Draco Malfoy