The train sounded once more as it halted to a stop at Hogsmeade station. Draco stood and collected his belongings, pulling his cloak tighter around him. He stuck his hand into his robe pocket, wrapping his hand around the handle of his wand, Strangely, he found comfort in the warm wood and he released a small sigh before opening the door to his compartment and exiting the train. He did his best to ignore the stares, the glares, and the obvious way that the others backed away ever so slightly.

He followed the masses to the edge of the village. The carriages that always took them to the castle lined up along the road. Most of the first years were oohing and aahing over the seemingly magical carriages moving of their own accord. The rest of them though, including Draco, knew the truth now. The leathery, black wings of the thestrals streched out, which made Draco pause. He looked around, noticing that some of the other students were just as awe-struck as him. He turned back as one of the thestrals nearest to him turned in his direction. Its white, milky eyes seemed to peer right through him.

The thestral cocked its head to the side as Draco stared right back. It pawed at the ground, its wings flapping slightly. It almost seemed to be wanting to convey something. Like it wanted him to know it understood the emotions in turmoil within him. He reached out his hand to the thestral. It apprehensively stepped closer, pulling on the restraints. Draco stepped closer and stopped within reach of the creature.

The thestral's white eyes stared at his outreached hand before it lowered its head. It sniffed at his hand before nibbling on the end of his fingers. Draco held his breath as the creature nuzzled its nose into the cup of his hand, it's eyes closing. It's skin was as leathery as it looked, stretched taut over hard bone. A warmth seeped into his cold hands.

He released a small smile before a heat on the back of his neck had him looking up. Eyes watched him, some in confusion, others in disgust. Draco found himself glaring at them, even as embarrassment threatened to overtake him. He turned back to the thestral, scratching underneath its chin. He leaned in, placing his forehead to the creature's snout.

"They just don't understand. I do…" Draco whsispers.

The thestral picked at his hair before snorting and backing away. Draco dropped his hand and walked with a straight spine to the carriage. He walked up the steps, plopping himself into the seat right inside the door. The others occupying the cabin scooted away, huddling close. He ignored them, staring out the window of the door as the carriage started rolling along. He could see the large castle from his view through the small window. It loomed ever closer, inciting the nervousness again.

Once at the large door leading into the Great Hall, the carriages stopped and let everyone out. Draco exited and turned back to the thestral, giving a slight nod to the creature. The thestral lowered its head in reciprocation. Draco smiled to himself once more before walking through the huge doors leading into the Great Hall. Candles floated above their heads as the ceiling was lit up with lightning and storm clouds. The lights shone off the light beige walls of the Great Hall. Four long tables ran down the length of the room. Up on a platform overlooking the large room, a long table ran perpendicular to the others, different tall-backed chairs sitting behind it. Occupying these seats were all the professors. It looked just the same as it had. A lump formed in Draco's throat, threatening to suffocate him.

A lone stool sat at the base of the stairs at the front of the room, the decrepit looking Sorting Hat sitting atop it. Memories flooded his mind, specifically, the feeling of pride filling him at the exclamation of him being sorted into Slytherin. He remembered how his father and mother had spoke of it all his life. It was almost a right of passage in the Malfoy household to be sorted into Slytherin house. He remembered the feeling of relief as well.

All the older students started filtering in, separating into their respective houses. Draco followed a small group of Slytherins to their table. He saw no one that he knew, no one he had been friends with anyway, so he found an empty seat on the inside bench towards the middle of the table. He was facing the outer wall, ignoring the stares digging into his back from the other houses. The others of his own house around him gathered their things and moved to a different part of the table. There was at least a 5-foot berth of emptiness around him. Draco dropped his eyes to the plate before him, staring at his golden, distorted reflection staring back.

The first years split up into two groups. The ones that were already sorted went to their respective tables and those that had not been yet lined up down the middle aisle in between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

Professor McGonagall stood from her chair, her presence alone silencing the room. Her footsteps were the only sound heard as she rounded the long table and came to stand at the podium overlooking the room.

"Hello, students. I know this past year has been difficult for all of you but we here at Hogwarts wanted to give you the opportunity to continue your education. We are so glad you have chosen to return. We will begin with the sorting of the new students who joined us this year."

The sorting ceremony did not take long. Most of the older students who did not return for their own various reasons left a number of openings so even though this was a repeated year for most everyone there, there were a handful of first years to be sorted. The last student, a young, brunette girl, broke out in a fit of sobs when the Sorting Hat yelled "Slytherin!". The whole room was quiet except for her cries. Professor McGonagall approached her, signalling for Professor Flitwick to escort her out of the Great Hall. She looked sadly after the student before turning back to the rest of the room. She plastered a small, albeit fake, smile on her face before addressing them all.

"Starting tomorrow, classes will begin and we will do whatever we can to get back some sense of normalcy within these walls. Tonight, let us celebrate and have a wonderful feast!"

McGonagall made a sweeping motion with her arms and the tables filled with endless amounts of food. Golden pitchers of pumpkin juice filled in front of their eyes. Draco reached for one and poured himself a goblet of the sweet liquid. He brought the goblet to his lips and let the cold drink pass his parted mouth, the chill filling his stomach and satiating the sense of dread that had taken hold of his nerves since the girl's outburst. Draco reached for an apple tart that was sitting on a tray in front of him. He didn't have much of an appetite but he simply could not refuse the sweet treat. He was in the process of bringing the first, tart bite to his lips when he felt that heat on the back of his neck again.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!"

Draco spun around, coming face to face with red hair and a pale complexion. Ron Weasley glared at Draco, malice and rage filled every line on his face. His fists were balled up at his sides, his cheeks flushed in a red that rivaled his hair. Draco almost found it amusing. Almost.

"And what, exactly, do you mean by that, Weasley? I'm enjoying my dinner, like everyone else here." Draco responded, going to turn back to his meal. Ron suddenly reached out, pulling his shoulder and forcing Draco to look at him. Draco would have fallen off the bench had he not braced himself. He glared up at Ron but his anger quickly died at the eyes that met his. There wasn't just rage that filled them, there was a pain that lined his gaze that was so palpable that Draco stopped breathing.

"It's your bloody fault, Malfoy. You let them all in. All those that died, all of the students, the teachers, everyone. They're dead because of you. It's your fault my brother's dead!" Ron's voice rose with every word as a single tear slipped from his eye. A silence had enveloped the room. All the other students were looking on. Draco glanced around. He could see Harry and Hermione just above Ron's shoulder. Harry had his own fists balled up, staring Draco down, looking ready to fight, although there was almost like a pleading in his gaze as Draco's met his. Hermione had one hand covering her mouth as tears rolled down her face, too. The teachers all stood to see the commotion and Draco watched as Professor McGonagall rose and quickly made her way over though a crowd was forming a circle around the two boys now.

Ron grabbed the front of Draco's robes, pulling him to a standing position. Draco's fork clattered to the stone floor. He willed for the insults to come to his tongue, for the anger to rise again, but nothing came. He just stared at Ron, at the contempt and accusation staring back. No response came to him. He couldn't say or do anything as shame filled every pore of his body.

Ron shoved him away. Draco fell back on the bench with a thud as the red-haired boy glared down his nose at him.

"You're the one to blame for everything. You don't deserve to be here. As far as I'm concerned, you're the one that should be dead." Ron said before turning away, walking back to Hermione's open arms. Harry put his hand on Ron's shoulder before giving Draco a slight, curt nod before ushering both of his friends back to the Gryffindor table.

"Return to your seats, everyone. That's enough of a show for one evening." McGonagall said before turning away as well.

Draco watched as everyone sat back down, though the stares never wavered. His face flushed, the mortification at the scene that just played out taking hold of his every sense. He stood and tried not to run straight out of the Great Hall to the empty courtyard outside. It was raining now, but he paid it no mind as he sat on the edge of the fountain taking up space in the center. He felt the chill of the water seep into his clothes and hair. He slowly lowered himself from the stone wall to the muddy ground, bringing his knees to his chest. He stared at the ground as droplets fell from his hair down his face. He bit his lip as a sob threatened to escape and a single tear escaped down his face. Then he was done. He clamped his hand over his mouth as his shoulders racked with unwarranted cries trying to claw their way out.

"Are you okay?" A small, feminine voice sounded nearby. Draco's head snapped up and he saw a frail-looking, brown-haired girl standing just under the awning of the courtyard. She had her cloak hood pulled partially over her head and her arms crossed. She looked so concerned that Draco could not find it within himself to lie.

"I honestly don't know anymore." Draco shakily replied. He hung his head as another sob raked through his body. Sloshing footsteps sounded as the girl ran over to him. She stopped about a foot from him. He couldn't raise his head to see her. He didn't want to. So he stared at her shoes. Mud was caked around her soles and splattered up onto her ankles, staining the black socks that she wore.

Then she leaned down, cocking her head to the side to catch his eye. Draco's red-rimmed eyes met those of melted chocolate. Her face was pale, the tip of her nose pink from the cold, her cheeks thin and her chin slightly pointed. She gave him a small smile with full, rounded lips. It was the most genuine one he had seen in ages. He found it difficult to speak but he managed to stammer out:

"Who are you?"