Disclaimer! I Don't own Harry Potter. It all belongs to J.K Rowling.
Terry Boot had been planning. He'd gotten his hands on the Twin's old note books, filled cover to cover with their very best ideas. Potions, charms, even a hex or two, all created by the twins. At first, Terry was amazed at the brilliance two third year boys had. The potions they'd invented would earn them OWLS at the very least. But these ideas and inventions weren't doing anyone any good if they were just sitting in a book, ignored. So Terry plotted. His friends all had their own projects, and feelings, that needed to be sorted out, so Terry worked alone. Almost every night since the start of May, long after his friends had turned in for the night, Terry worked on what he considered his masterpiece. In the notes, the twins listed several potions for human to animal transfigurations. Dozens of them. From mice to canaries, from dogs to ferrets. With the what decided, Terry just needed a how. The answer came to him, large eyes and floppy ears, offering him some late night cocoa and a biscuit. It took Terry a week of haggling, and a lot of socks, but the house elves were on board. So long as no harm came to their charges, house elves had very good senses of humor.
So Cho's comment on chaos brought a very real smile to Terry's face.
"Who said the chaos stopped?" He asked, putting on his best innocent face. Even after months of quiet from the Ravenclaw four, Cho new that look. She paled and turned to warn her house mates. Instead of a person, though, Cho found herself face to face with a rather irate llama. Wearing Marietta's robes. Peering down the table, Cho saw a variety of animals were students should have been. Her head snapped around to see a similar fate had befallen the staff table. McGonagal was busy preening her lovely swan feathers, while two dogs, one a tiny thing with many wrinkles and the other wearing a bright yellow scarf, seemed to be having a rather loud argument over a small piece of steak. Cho couldn't be too sure of that though. It was all barks and yips from where she sat. In the headmaster's chair sat a very old goat, munching happily on his plate. Giving up on seeking help, Cho turned back to scold the boys, who had broken down into giggle fits once they realized what was happening.
"Swark!" Cho screeched at them. Then she rose from the table, scratching at the ground in search of seeds. Anthony fell from his bench, rolling with laughter.
"How?" Draco turned to Terry.
"Pasties and house elves." Terry's grin didn't fade. The few students not wearing fur or feathers made a break for the hall, as things were getting messy in the Great Hall. And kind of smelly. The ravenclaw boys were among that number, deciding to make a run for it before the pasties wore off. They took off for the lake, Terry promising it would be into their next exam before anyone noticed them missing. As they sat beneath a large oak, the questions rained down on Terry.
"How'd you get the house elves in on this?"
"How'd you come up with the pasties?"
"When are you going to show us the recipes?"
"Why'd you do this?" It was Harry's question that made them all studied Harry's face. The heavy bags under his eyes, and that far off look told Terry everything.
"Because no eleven year old boy should look like he's met Death face to face. Even if that boy is the Boy-Who-Lived. Or his brother, or his friend. We're kids, guys. That isn't going to change anytime soon. I know what happened…it was hard. On all of us. But if we're going to move forward, we have got to let it go. We will have plenty of time to fight dark lords or undead monsters later. We're losing the twins soon. Let's not lose each other because we can't face our demons." Terry took a breath. He hated talking like an adult. It always came out cheesy. But the smiles on his friends faces was worth it.
By the time dinner had rolled around, even the staff was smiling. The exam borne tension left the school, and many people were still making animal noises. Marietta had to carry around a hankie, in case she spat on someone again. Just after dinner, Dumbledore, between bites of a spoon, canceled the next day of classes, which brought a hardy cheer from the student body. Only a few people barked or chirped. Exams were over, and only one last class before the end of the year.
Draco rose early. June 6th. Two days before the school year ended, and his birthday. Thanks to Dumbledore, there were no classes today, and Draco had zero plans. Tomorrow would bring summer homework and more things to remember, but today was his. He made his way to breakfast, humming cheerfully. He was greeted with birthday wishes and smiles all the way down. Terry and Anthony handed over small wrapped presents as he sat down next to Harry at the table.
"Morning Drake, Happy birthday." Harry smiled at his brother and gave him a one armed hug. Yesterday had gone a long way in rebuilding the Ravenclaw four's friendship, so the mood was light and easy between them. Draco began to pile bacon onto his plate when a large eagle owl landed in the sausages. All four boys stared at the bird, mouths agape. The eagle owl waited patiently, leg outstretched to Draco. After a few minutes of standing on one foot, the owl pecked the end of the blonde boy's nose. Draco yelped and clutched his face.
"Bloody Bird! What was that for?" Draco rubbed the end of his nose indignantly. Terry laughed.
"You should probably see what that package is. It's clearly for you." Anthony said, biting back laughter. Draco untied the plain brown package from the eagle owl's leg. The bird pecked at Draco once more, before flying off with a mouth full of bacon stolen from the boy's plate. Draco turned the small package over in his hands a few times.
"Open it then!"Harry urged. Draco peeled off the paper to reveal a small leather bound book and a note.
Dear Draco,
I know you hate me. What I did to your mother was unspeakable and I can never let myself live it down. Even though I was under an imperious, I deserve to be in Azkaban. I only hope this reaches you in time for your birthday. Good luck on your Twelfth anniversary of birth, my son. Inclosed in an old journal of mine. I wiped it clear, so that you may write your own story with in it's pages. It aided me a great deal in my school days, I hope it does the same for you. Again, I'm sorry.
With a Father's love,
Lucius Malfoy.
Draco frowned and tossed the journal into his bag. Harry put a hand on his shoulder.
"It's okay, mate. We're hear for you." Harry tired to comfort his brother. Draco stood and smiled to his friends.
"I'm okay. I'm gonna head up to the dorms. To burn this." He held up the note. The other boys nodded. Draco hurried back to his room, then threw himself on his bed. He held back tears as long as he could. That bastard mentioned his mother. Again. In every letter, Lucius wrote about her. At first, it was letters about her. Then it was letters of apology. Now it was just him begging his son for forgiveness that would never come. Draco clung to his pillow. He couldn't believe his father was imperiused. He'd used that excuse to escape Azkaban when Voldemort fell. Draco knew Lucius was a liar and a murderer. Once the tears died down a bit, Draco picked the journal up out of his bag. He flipped through it a few times, insuring it was clean. For once, his father hadn't lied to him. The book was blank. He set the book aside and looked at the note again. Draco pushed down the fury that was rising up again, and crumpled the note, sending it flying to the bin. He picked up the book again. He'd never been much for journals or diaries, but he desperately wanted to write in this one. Maybe the loneliness of loosing two of his closest friends was getting to him. Draco walked over to the desk to get a quill. Maybe writing out all his problems would help. It certainly couldn't hurt.
Fred and George waited at the station for Aunt Muriel. They didn't have to wait long, as Muriel believed in promptness. She began a rant on proper pureblood behaviors, which the twins tuned out. They looked around the station one last time, looking for friends they would miss. Before they could pull away from their aunt, she pushed portkeys into their hands and they vanished. Their last year of Hogwarts was over. The next few months would be hard, filled to the brim with remedial lessons in etiquette and enrichment classes to hone their already fine potions skills. Come September, the Prewett Twins would be facing their fourth year in Greece. Hopefully the school of illusions would have a place for two potions prodigies.
The train pulled into King's Cross Station, much to the relief of it's passengers. The ride from Scotland was quiet, and long. Stretching out their legs, The Black Brother climber off the train. A few short hugs and handshakes later, the boys had found their father and had begun the short trip to Grimwald Place. Neither spoke of the year, many of the details already passed on to Sirius by the headmaster. Their first year of Hogwarts was finally behind them.
Terry smiled and waved his friends off. His year end prank was a huge success, and every one would remember it. His friends were happy again, and everything was moving forward smoothly. He patted his bag, full of notebooks with three large W's on the cover. The Weasley twins were gone, but Terry had plans for the ideas they left behind. He'd have to speak to his mother about acquiring a nicer cauldron over the summer. Second Year was going to be amazing.
Anthony didn't relax. He wouldn't until his grades came in. He followed his mother to the family car, where his father was waiting. The stern looking man glared at his wife and son as they sat in the car.
"Did you pass?" He barked causing, Anthony to jump.
"Y-yes sir, but my final grades wont come until mid summer." Anthony kept his head down, avoiding eye contact.
"Then you don't know if you passed or not, do you?" Mr. Goldstein's words were like ice. Anthony's head snapped up.
"I did pass, sir! They just havn't finished grading exams yet, is all. If I'd have failed, you would have gotten an owl. Sir." Anthony did his best to keep his voice from shaking. His father grunted, and pulled out of the station. All the way home, Anthony could hear him muttering about crack pot schools and serious wastes of money. Anthony wasn't sure if the school was a waste, or if he was. All he could do now was wait for Second year to start.
In a dark island prison in far off in the North Sea, a man sat curled against the wall of his cell. He'd paid a good bit of gold, the very last of his saving, to make a young man very happy. Now he was broke and destitute, locked away in Azkaban, waiting for the final good bye Kiss. But his favorite young man would be so pleased. He'd taken to writing in that journal himself, but Azkaban made him weak, and useless to the young man buried in it's pages. But his son. His son was strong. Draco would be a good wizard someday, and that would make the young man very, very happy. Yes, Tom would be so please with him. Tom was always kind to him, and following his orders was easy. And after his son purged that school of it's filth, Tom would have the foundation of the perfect world Lucius dreamed of. The heavy enchantments on the journal would insure that Draco never threw it away, so it was only a matter if time before the beast rose up and cleared the halls of Hogwarts of the mudbloods contaminating it. Then his lord would rise again, and Lucius would be rewarded.
And there is the end of Book One. I'll be posting the sequel, Draco Black and The Serpents Diary, before the new year.