A/N: emowifey1 - thanks for following! Modges - I haven't yet decided if Fluffy will make an appearance, but I haven't ruled it out!
Here's chapter 7 - my plot, JKR owns the rest. Please R&R, & enjoy! :)
Draco made his way down to the feast with the other eighth years, still trying to process everything that had happened that afternoon. He'd expected cold looks and muttered curses, not silent acceptance, and although it was a much more positive start than he could've hoped for, he knew better than to rest on his laurels. He and his six classmates had the common thread of the war joining them together in a sort of understanding – he doubted the rest of the school would be so lenient.
He had to admit the common room was beautiful, and the sunshine pouring through the dormitory windows was a nice change from the underwater view in the Slytherins' abode. He could easily picture himself spending hours reading in front of the fire, and the fact that McGonagall had bothered to have their familiar beds transferred to their new quarters was a surprising but much appreciated touch – she really did seem to be living up to her 'everyone is welcome back' mantra. Finch-Fletchley and Longbottom had been nothing but civil thus far, and Granger had included him in her story about Hagrid's ridiculous dog.
As he walked with his year mates to the feast, Draco couldn't help but notice subtle differences that betrayed just how badly Hogwarts had suffered. Little scars littered the walls and spell grooves marred the stones beneath their feet, and many empty paintings still bore scorch marks or tears, their usual occupants having gone to stay with undamaged neighbors. In one instance, the group had to find an alternate staircase to the second floor, as the shortcut they'd initially chosen was completely caved in. The entrance hall, he noticed, was almost fully restored, and the hourglasses that recorded house points stood whole in their display case once more – although, if McGonagall was to be believed, they weren't going to be in use for quite a while.
Unlike the entrance hall, the Great Hall was very different. The high table sat in its usual place, but instead of the four house tables, dozens of smaller round tables, each set for ten, were scattered around the room. By the time they reached the entrance hall, the carriages had arrived from Hogsmeade, and the rest of the students were chattering loudly as they filed into the Hall and found seats. Uncertain about the new seating arrangements, the eighth years chose a table near the back of the Hall, where they were soon joined by Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood.
"Be glad you weren't on the train," Ginny muttered to Hermione as she sank into her chair. "I lost track of how many looks I got, it was bloody annoying." She glanced up and took in the sight of her tablemates. "Evening, you lot. Welcome back." Draco was a little taken aback by her lack of surprise at his presence, but he didn't say anything. He knew exactly what the redhead meant about looks, as he was certainly getting his fair share of them as students filing into the Hall recognized him. To his immense relief, it wasn't long before McGonagall stood to address the assembled students.
"Good evening, everyone. To our new students, welcome" – here she gestured towards the tables at the front of the room, which were filled with several dozen scared-looking children – "and to our returning students, welcome back. I have several announcements to pass on to you, but I shall leave them until after the feast. In the meantime, enjoy." As soon as she finished speaking, the dishes on the tables filled with food, and the hungry students dug in eagerly.
Once everyone had eaten, the plates cleared themselves and Professor McGonagall tapped a spoon against her goblet to get the students' attention.
"I hope you'll forgive me for taking up a little bit more of your time, but I have several important announcements before you all head off for the night. Firstly, as always, the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students, and Mr. Filch would like me to remind you all of the continuing blanket ban on Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products, as well as an additional 512 items, the complete list of which hangs on his office door." She paused to send a knowing look towards the eighth years' table, where Hermione and Ginny were trying their best not to laugh.
"Second, as I'm sure you're all aware thanks to our summer correspondence, you should expect several changes at Hogwarts this year, some more temporary than others. As you may have noticed, there was no Sorting ceremony this evening - I am sorry to say that our dear Sorting Hat is still recovering from injuries sustained in the Battle of Hogwarts and will be out of commission for some time. For now, Hogwarts will operate on a House-less system - upper years, you will sleep in your House dormitories for the sake of convenience, but you won't necessarily have classes with the same students as usual, and the House point system will not exist." A murmur ran through the crowd at this statement.
"That is not to say," Professor McGonagall continued over the chatter, which died almost instantly, "that troublemakers will not be punished. Points will be recorded by year, and detentions will most certainly still be given if the situation warrants it.
"In order to make this transition a little easier, the rest of the faculty and I have created a House-less common room for each class year - with the exception, of course, of the first and eighth years, as those students are already all bunking together. In addition to your House common rooms, you are free to spend as much time as you like in your year's room, and we highly encourage you to do so. The location and password for your common room can be found on your timetables, which you will receive tomorrow at breakfast. Any questions?"
"If the houses are gone, does that mean there's no Quidditch this year?" someone called from a table on the right.
"Not necessarily," Professor McGonagall said. "The pitch sustained very little damage and is therefore fully operational, and I understand many of you are eager to play again. Madam Hooch and I are in the process of working out an alternate option - we hope to have the details ironed out by Friday so that we may let you all know that evening." The student nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer.
"What about the Heads of Houses?" someone else asked. "Who do we go to if we need somebody like that?"
"Another good question. Professors Sprout, Flitwick, and Slughorn are still considered Heads, and Professor Sinistra has replaced me as the fourth. However, please feel free to talk to any staff member should the need arise - our Head students, Mr. Summerby and Miss Roberts, as well as myself, are always available as well.
"Finally, I know you're probably tired of hearing this, but I must stress the importance of unity this year. Hogwarts suffered terribly last year, and although many of you will find it difficult to let go of House rivalries and prejudices, I want to make it perfectly clear that negative actions towards any student or staff member will not be tolerated. I ask you to think of yourselves, not as Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, or Slytherins, but as what you really are - students of Hogwarts. Hogwarts is strong, but the road to recovery is a long one, and she'll need your help to succeed." Silence filled the Hall as the students considered her words.
"Enough for now," the Headmistress said. "Off to bed with you; you have your lessons in the morning." Chair scraped against stone as the students headed out for the night. Hermione, Ginny, and Susan immediately struck up a conversation about McGonagall's speech, which continued until they had to part ways on the third floor.
"See you all in the morning!" Ginny called as she headed for the nearest shortcut upstairs.
"So...Quidditch, huh?" It took Draco a minute to realize the question was directed at him.
"What about it?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"You going to play?" Blaise asked.
"Please, Blaise - like I'd be allowed to play again," he scoffed.
"Why not?" Blaise countered. "It's like McGonagall said - we're not Slytherins anymore; we're Hogwarts students, all of us. That includes you."
"I still don't think-"
"Draco, shut up," Blaise snapped. "Moping around isn't going to do you any good, and I highly doubt you came back here just to do that. It's no secret that you love Quidditch, so if eighth years are allowed to play, you should go for it. You've been given your second chance - don't screw it up." With that, he sped up to chat with Justin and Neville, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts.
Before the war, Draco would have brushed aside Blaise's comments, even gotten angry at him for daring to be so forward, but now, he carefully considered what his friend had said. He'd gotten extremely lucky that Blaise had decided to come back too, as he was probably the only person Draco felt comfortable opening up to on any level - yes, Blaise could be as crafty as any other Slytherin, but he was also incredibly observant and a very good listener. He never said anything unless he meant it, so his comment about second chances struck Draco to the core. Blaise was right, of course - Draco was lucky to have a second chance at all, and not taking advantage of that was probably the worst thing he could do for himself. Did he want to play Quidditch again? Hell yes, he did. Would he be disappointed if he couldn't? Absolutely. But he'd never know if he didn't try. Deciding to wait and see what McGonagall's alternative was, he climbed into bed and shut the curtains, one of Blaise's other comments echoing in his head as he fell asleep:
"We're not Slytherins anymore; we're Hogwarts students, all of us."