Draco was the last to enter McGonagall's office. The only person he looked at was the Headmistress and even that lasted only a few seconds before he stood in a corner and stared at the carpet.
Filthy blood traitors, the lot of them. And that Mudblood. They should never be allowed to live. The voice in his head spewed its nonsense and he bit his lip to keep himself from yelling 'shut up'.
"Right, now that you all are here, I can inform you of the housing arrangements. All of you played specific parts in the war. Some people might be overly appreciative, while others wish to cause you harm. To help keep you safe, we have created new living quarters for you. They are in the West Wing and only you five will be allowed there. You will have your own rooms, and Miss Granger, you will have your own bathroom. Don't want to subject you to sharing a toilet with the boys." McGonagall smirked at Granger and Granger sent back a thankful smile.
"Does Malfoy have to be there?" Weasley shouted. He was red in the face and his fists were clenched.
"Yes," McGonagall said firmly. "He needs to be there more than any of you. It's getting late. Again, the dormitory is in the West Wing and the password for this month is 'snapdragon'. Have a good night." And with that, she went up the stairs and closed her door softly.
"Bloody hell! She couldn't have given us a more obvious death sentence." Weasley muttered, earning a slap on the head from Granger. 'What, 'Mione? It's true."
Draco's eyes shifted from the floor to Weasley's face. It was red and he turned to glare at Draco. Draco shrugged and turned to walk out.
Across from the staircase that led to McGonagall's office, was a large window. Draco went to stand in front of it. Looking out, he viewed the black mass that was the DarkForest. It was softly flushed by the white light of the moon.
Draco remembered the detention he had to serve with Hagrid in first year. He didn't know what it was for, but he did know that things lurked in that forest. Dark things that could rip you apart in an instant or shoot you full of venom in another. A small part of him wanted to go into the forest and beg for death.
"You alright, Malfoy?" a deep voice sounded behind him. Draco jumped and turned. Potter stood there with his hands up and green eyes wide with worry. Draco took a deep breath and nodded. Harry lowered his hands and put them into the pockets of his jeans. His eyes still held worry and that other mysterious emotion.
"I guess we should go up and get some sleep, eh?" Potter's voice was quiet and gentle. Draco shrugged and started walking towards the dormitory. They walked in silence for a few minutes.
"Malfoy?" Potter said tentatively. Draco looked at him. Potter stopped walking and Draco stopped a few steps ahead. "Why don't you talk anymore?"
Draco stared at him. He would have thought Potter would be happy if Draco never spoke. Draco shrugged and looked away from Potter.
"Nothing to talk about, I suppose." His voice was rough and weak. He started to walk again and Potter fell in step next to him.
"No one to talk to." The words had escaped his mouth before he even thought them. Potter's steps faltered then evened out again.
"I know how that feels." Potter whispered. They were almost to the entrance of the dormitories when Potter put his hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco shivered from the warmth and looked at Potter.
"You can talk to me. You're not alone." Potter's eyes were honest. Draco felt hot tears prickling at his eyes. He blinked a few times. He nodded and Potter squeezed his shoulder. A look of confusion flashed over Potter's features. He squeezed Draco's shoulder again. His green eyes ran over Draco's face.
He's just realizing how much of a waste of breath and space you are.
"You're so skinny." Potter finally said. His voice was hard and questioning.
"Not hungry." Draco mumbled, eyes slipping to the floor. Potter was still for a moment before rubbing Draco's shoulder and lightly trailing his hand down the connecting arm. Draco closed his eyes, shivering from the touch. Potter's fingers curled around Draco's hand before dropping back to his side.
"Shall we?" Draco nodded and followed Harry to the wall that held the secret passage to the now eighth year dormitory. Draco muttered "snapdragon" before Harry could and low chuckle sounded from his side.
The bricks in the wall rearranged themselves to reveal an archway that led to a room with multiple sofas and chairs and a large ornate fire place across form a window that looked out over the Quiditch pitch. The room was splashed in muted gold and silver. Draco suspected that they took the colors from Slytherin and Gryffindor that clashed the least and didn't make it look like Christmas all year long.
Draco followed Harry up the stairs to what he assumed were the boy's rooms. They passed Neville Longbottom's room. He was sitting on the floor searching furiously through his trunk.
"Merlin, Trevor! Honestly, why can you never stay put?"
"Trevor is all about keeping up traditions, Neville. As always, we'll keep an eye out for him." Harry said reassuringly. Neville gave him a thankful look. The look disappeared as his eyes slid to Draco. A look of uncertainty was plain on his features.
"Don't kill him, Malfoy." Neville said, eyeing him.
He couldn't if he wanted to, the slimy, little—
"I wouldn't, I promise." Draco whispered and stared at the ground. Neville cleared his throat and looked at Harry again.
"Alright, well, we should probably get some sleep." Neville stood and walked to the door. "'Night, Harry. Malfoy." He tacked on Draco's name as an afterthought and shut the door.
Again, Draco followed Harry up more stairs and came upon a closed door with hushed voices speaking behind it.
"…isn't okay, Hermione! He shouldn't be with us! He has no right!"
"He has every right to be protected and given an education, Ronald!"
"How could you be protecting him like that? You of all people know what he's done, what he could do. He's a greasy Death Eater! He's a menace and should be in Azkaban!"
"Ronald! How dare you wish that upon someone…"
Their voices grew dimmer as Harry and Draco climbed the stairs.
He had the right idea, I'm sorry to admit, but you should be subjected to a punishment far worse. Nothing less than a Dementor's kiss!
They reached an open door and peaked in. A trunk with the letters HJP sat at the foot of the bed.
"Well, this is mine. I suppose yours is up the stairs a bit. Do you want me to come with you to get settled?" Harry hesitantly and looked Draco in the eyes. The emotion was there again. What was it?! Draco was beginning to get frustrated because he couldn't figure out what it was. At least he was starting to feel something other than despair and hurt.
"No, I'll be okay. Good night, Potter." his hoarse voice sounded. Harry nodded.
"If you need anything, I'm here. Good night, Malfoy."
Acting like he cares! Don't get your hopes up, Draco. No one cares about you. You're worthless. You shouldn't be allowed to live. You're a blast-ended skrewt smeared on the sole of the Wizarding World's boot. No one wants you. No one loves you. Even your parents killed themselves to get away from you.
As Draco climbed the stairs, the voice in his head berated him with insults. He clenched his teeth to keep himself from yelling out. When he got to his room, he softly closed the door, and took his wand—previously his father's wand—and threw up a silencing charm.
Draco screamed and let himself fall apart. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks as he sank to the floor. He sobbed until he made no more noise.
After a moment, he stood and stripped to his underwear. Tears still flowing, he climbed into the bed and waited for sleep he knew would never come.
Author's note: So, yeah... Saying this chapter ending was a bit on the angsty side might just be the understatement of the year so far. Anyway, I hope you liked it. Reviews are always welcome.
All these characters about which I am writing? Yeah, they belong to J.K. Rowling.