Later that night, Draco sat alone in his dorm room. It was dinnertime, so all of his usual roommates were busy in the Great Hall. He just hadn't found himself hungry this evening. His hands were clasped together between his knees as he thought, his grey eyes distant and (as they rarely were) not narrowed in hatred or disgust. In truth, he got rather tired of doing that, but it was an expected reaction to Mudbloods and traitors, even now that the war was past. It had been expected of him for so long that he doubted he could stop feeling that way if he wanted. But he was a Malfoy, this was right…wasn't it? He shouldn't have to be ashamed of being born pure, all-Wizard, not a drop of selfish, revolting Muggle blood in his body. It was all right to be proud, and that's all he was, proud of his family and his lineage. His identity. So, that was why the Granger girl's comment would not leave his mind.

He moved his hands upward, closing his eyes and rubbing them with the ends of his fingers. Few things managed to cause him to think this much, certainly not school. He kept hearing what she'd said there in the smoke-filled Potions room over and over. "Your mother will tell you what you are…" Or something to that effect. What else could he be, damn it? A Wizard, a Malfoy, a man, what could she mean?! He jumped to his feet and kicked the first thing in sight, the night table next to his bed. The few things on it fell off as it tipped and banged to the floor. Good thing he wasn't much on keep-sakes or knick-knacks. He walked to the small window in the close dark room and leaned on the sill, fists supporting his weight. Funny how much smaller and closer to the ground that window seemed now…and how he no longer felt young. Now was the time to do his final bit of growing up, and he could not spend it mulling on what he was. Likely, the Mudblood didn't even know what she was talking about, and he was toiling for nothing. He would settle this. Once and forever.

Draco pushed himself back upright, turning away from the distant sunset and darkening sky. His cloak hung on his bedpost above the hangings, and he practically tore it down, then ripped parchment, ink and quill from his desk and slid them into his pocket. He strode across the room and wrenched open the door, sweeping the cloak over his shoulders as he descended the spiral stairs.

The common room was surprisingly vacant as he crossed it and left, taking the various twists and turns that led to the Entrance hall above. He met no one. Passing by the doors to the Great hall, he could hear moderate and drowsy chatter, it had to be dessert. He passed by and continued al the way up the Marble Staircase, higher and higher until at last he stood in the Owlery. The air was crisp coming through the owl's exits and he was glad he'd thought to grab the cloak. Gingerly, he walked over to a sill and pulled out the parchment, quill and ink. He wrote hurriedly:

Mother,

I have some questions to ask you. The Granger girl said some strange things to me today, something about not knowing 'what I am.' I know it's nothing to worry over, but I thought I'd ask just the same.

Draco

He had decided on the way up not to mention the Mudblood had told him to ask his mother in particular. He whistled for his Eagle Owl, Darkling while he hastily folded the letter in half, and when Darkling landed, Draco slipped the parchment into his beak.

"For Mother." He said simply. Darkling would know where to find her no matter what. He walked him to the nearest window and let him out, standing and watching until the owl disappeared behind the dark night clouds. For a moment, Draco stayed there, wondering what the reply would tell him, but a sudden chill made him shake, and he took the opportunity to come out of his solitude. The walk back down to the dungeons seemed long and lonely…as always.

Draco did not sleep easily that night; he tossed and turned, first unable to fall asleep, then unable to stay that way. Despite what he'd told himself, which was that sending his mother the letter would help him move past this, his mind still raced trying to figure out what Granger had meant. It was not until early in the morning, only an hour or so before the sky would begin to light up again that he fell into a peaceful, dreamless slumber…

"Draco!"

His eyes shot open again. He could only have been asleep for thirty minutes or less. Severus Snape was above him, leaning through his curtains, looking the same as usual. Did the man ever sleep?

"What?!" Draco hissed. He didn't dare be insolent to Snape, he was only favored in school matters. If it had been anyone else, he would have told them to bugger off and leave him the hell alone.

"Get out of bed and get dressed. Be quick about it. I'll be waiting in the Common Room." He withdrew, and Draco heard no footsteps to the stairs though he knew he'd left. For a moment, he lay there and wondered if he'd been dreaming, but he decided he was awake and groaned as he swung his feet to the floor. He found himself losing the tired feeling as he got dressed. After all, he'd been much more sick and exhausted with fear and worry when he'd been in the Dark Lord's service. His left arm tingled at the thought and he put a hand on it gingerly, seeming to feel warmth through his sleeve.

Being a Death Eater had been much the childhood fantasy for him, just as Professional Quidditch or being the youngest Minister of Magic were to normal children. But he'd had time to think it over and really, he'd been much too young to receive the Dark mark. Just as any 16-year-old couldn't really be Minister or play Quidditch for England, and he'd come to feel that what had happened to him wasn't quite…fair. When he'd told these things to his father, he'd simply called him a coward and hit him for shaming the name of Malfoy. He never confided in his father afterward. He'd spoiled Draco and practically bred him to be one thing, and one thing only. Anything else counted him as a failure. Really, his future was quite dim no matter which way he went about looking at it.

But, it was no use sulking, he only had the one choice and the one life to live. Snape was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

"What's so important that you had to wake me in the middle of the night?" Draco snapped.

"You have a visitor in the Headmaster's office apparently, he informs me it's urgent." Snape answered, his voice somberly monotone.

"What kind of visitor would I have at this hour?" Draco asked, but Snape had already begun walking and he had no choice but to follow him, seeing as Snape wasn't in a talkative mood. He continued to remain silent in the long trek up to Dumbledore's office, and once they'd passed the Gargoyle and climbed the stairs, he left Draco alone to knock.

When Dumbledore opened the door, Draco stepped in and caught sight of a cloaked figure over the Headmaster's shoulder. It turned and two long-fingered hands came up to lower the green hood. Long blonde hair tumbled out, free of the confinement.

"Mother?"