Sunday, 3 January 1999
It had been a mere fourteen days since his departure for the Christmas holidays, but upon his return Hogwarts was not the same. Of course, it was the same. At the very least it looked exactly the way it had two weeks ago, and yet it was different. It felt different. Draco found himself staring up at the familiar castle, willing himself to feel something, but instead he was met with a hollow feeling inside his chest. If he thought the first semester had been difficult on him he would be in serious trouble this second semester.
He had foolishly held out hope that Pansy would change her mind; that she would meet him on Platform 9¾ like she had every other time before for nearly seven years. Her absence had cut through him in a way he had never experienced before. He hated himself in that moment; he hated that he was unable to tell her how he felt about her, because he really did love her. He always had. But she was right—they had become too accustomed to each other, and while he loved her he realised now that it was not the kind of love that would satisfy him for the rest of his life. She was safe and familiar and she had always been the sole unwavering part of his life, and he had taken her for granted. He had assumed she would always be there for him to fall back on.
Draco felt terribly lonely when he followed the seventh-year prefects through the gates and onto the Hogwarts grounds. Though Nott and Greengrass would still be here this semester, it would not be not the same. There was more distance between them. He felt less at ease around them. Pansy had really been the one redeeming factor about his initial return to Hogwarts this year and now she wasn't here. He was on his own now.
"Malfoy?"
His head snapped up to find Granger standing before him, though she had left a fair bit of distance between them. She wore a slightly worried expression on her face as she studied him, but she seemed to try and fight her curiosity. "Professor Slughorn asked us to seal the gate," she accounced. "Are you coming?"
Draco nodded his head once and then followed her wordlessly, taking out his wand as they moved. After magically sealing the gate they followed the Potions Master through the great double oak doors and into the castle. The prefects parted ways as soon as they entered the Great Hall, but Slughorn motioned for both him and Granger to wait.
"The Headmistress wants a word with the both of you before the meal," he told them. "The password for the gargoyle is Aelurus. Best to not keep her waiting." With those words he turned around and swaggered into the Great Hall.
"Wonderful," the Head Girl muttered as she turned on her heel and started walking.
"What did you do, Granger?" Draco sneered half-heartedly as he followed her through the deserted corridors. "Gotten yourself into trouble, have you? I thought you were incapable of that without Potty and Weasel."
Granger glanced at him over her shoulder with a confused frown on her brows. "What? I haven't done anything," she answered a little defensively. "I have no idea what's going on, I just wish this could have waited until after dinner. I'm famished; I only ate two Cauldron Cakes today."
"Ah, so that was what I heard during the prefects meeting. I thought it was a storm in the distance, but it was just your starving self."
"You're funny, Malfoy," Granger replied in a deadpan tone that did not at all match with the words she just spoke.
They soon reached the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmistress' office, and upon receiving the password it stepped aside to let them through. They made their way up the circular stairs in silence. Once upstairs, Granger knocked on the door and they waited until McGonagall's voice invited them inside. "Thank you for joining me so promptly," she greeted them once they stood in front of the claw-footed desk. "Please, have a seat."
Draco sat down and gathered his courage to sneak a glance at the large portrait behind the Headmistress' desk, only to discover that it had moved a fair bit to the left to make room for another portrait. He could have sworn that his heart skipped a beat as he stared up in disbelief and surprise. A thin man with a hooked nose and greasy, black, shoulder-length hair stared right back at him with dark, penetrating eyes, and Draco inhaled sharply.
"Professor Snape," he breathed out in shock.
From the corner of his eye he could see Granger's head snap up to stare at the portrait as well. The former Head of Slytherin House spared her no glance and his eyes remained fixed on his former pupil. "Well, well…" he drawled in a soft sneer. "Against all odds you've made it through the War alive. I'm pleased to see that I didn't take that Vow for nothing. I see you even got an honourable badge out of it."
Somehow, Draco felt much smaller than he had ten minutes ago. Severus Snape had done everything he could to help him out during his mission, even going as far as taking an Unbreakable Vow at the request of his mother and lying to the Dark Lord about what happened atop the Astronomy Tower. Instead of sharing the burden of his impossible mission, Draco had accused the man of trying to take away his chance of redeeming his father and using the mission for his own gain. He felt foolish, knowing now that his former teacher had only ever looked out for him. He wanted to say something, offer his apologies, anything, but he could only shift uncomfortably in his seat and avoid direct eye contact.
"Pull yourself together, boy," Snape ssaid softly, his tone surprisingly gentle. "I accept. Now, stop acting like a snivelling fool."
A weight was immediately lifted from his shoulders. Draco quickly glanced up at Snape's portrait and gave the former Potions Master a grateful nod. The man returned the gesture, cast a disdainful glance at Granger and then disappeared from the portrait, his black robes flowing behind him. Dumbledore sat quite still in his own portrait, his eyes closed and his hands folded together in his lap, but Draco doubted whether the old wizard was really asleep. He was quite sure he saw a pleased smile tug at the corners of the former Headmaster's lips, but he kept up the pretence.
Taking a deep breath, he collected himself and looked up at Professor McGonagall, who was tactfully avoiding his gaze and continued scribbling down onto a piece of parchment. The office remained quiet for a little while longer until McGonagall finally put aside her quill and glanced up at them. "I hope you both had pleasant holidays," she began, but she didn't wait for them to reply. "Ms Granger, has Mr Malfoy honored the arrangement of visiting you and your parents sometime during the past two weeks?"
"He has, Professor," Granger answered softly. "He took advantage of the opportunity to ask questions and he…" She paused and glanced at him. "Well, he was perfectly polite."
"I'm pleased to hear that, Mr Malfoy, and I would appreciate receiving a copy of your finished report at the end of this month. Now, onto the reason why I summoned you." She paused and gave each of them a look before continuing. "Following on the request I received from Ms Granger regarding the reversal of your accommodation arrangements, I have taken the liberty of asking advisory feedback from the rest of the staff and the prefects that remained here during the winter holidays. Even though there have been several hiccups—some more serious than others—the general consensus seems to be that Mr Malfoy has taken his responsibilities as Head Boy quite seriously, especially in these last few weeks leading up to the holidays where he really rose to the occasion due to Ms Granger's temporary state of incapacity. Combined with the feedback I just received regarding the arranged visit, I am inclined to give you two permission to move back to your House common rooms and lift Mr Malfoy's curfew."
A stunned silence spread through the office and Draco could only stare at the Headmistress in shock. He hadn't had a clue of why he had been summoned here today, and while he was creative enough to think of several possibilities this had not been one of the things he would have considered. Next to him Granger seemed speechless. Normally he would savour this occurrence, but right now he was at a bit of a loss for words himself. He had hoped that this moment would come but he had never actually expected it to happen. "Thank you," he finally muttered sincerely, though a little uncomfortably.
In the chair next to him Granger shifted around a little. "Professor," she started finally, "I do realise that this question may seem a little odd, but I was wondering if the Heads' tower will remain available to us." McGonagall raised her eyebrows questioningly, and Granger sat up a little straighter. "I am thrilled to be allowed back among the Gryffindors, but this is my N.E.W.T. year and I have to admit that it was quite luxurious to have an entire common room to ourselves in which I was able to study without being disturbed all the time."
"I see," the Headmistress said finally. "Well, since the tower will be unoccupied after your departure, I see no reason why you wouldn't be allowed to continue using it. The last set password, Unitatem Pacis, will remain in effect indefinitely. I must insist that the no-guest-policy remains unchanged. Secluded quarters and teenagers are often not a good match. Now, Ms Granger, would you please be so kind as to leave me and Mr Malfoy for a moment? You may wait in the hall, we will join you shortly."
Granger rose from her chair and exited the Headmistress' office in silence, casting a quick glance in his direction before her departure. Draco couldn't help but tense up when the door closed, leaving him alone with McGonagall. She had pursed her lips and studied him for a moment, her facial expression stern but otherwise unreadable.
"Mr Malfoy, let me begin by telling you that I had very little hope at the start of term that you would take this chance you've been given seriously," she began brusquely. "Your unwillingness to cooperate in Muggle Studies and your continuous loss of temper have given me more than one headache, and you might go into the books as the Head Boy with the most detentions during his tenure. However, I don't consider myself to be unreasonable, and given your undeniable efforts lately I will allow you to move back into the Slytherin common room as a gesture of trust. I want to stress that your final warning still stands, and that I expect you to continue the way you have these past few weeks. If you fall back into your old patterns I will not bother with reversing these new arrangements and instead I will move to terminating your education here at Hogwarts at once. Naturally, I have discussed all this with Professor Slughorn, who has agreed. Do you understand the terms?"
"Yes, Professor," Draco answered dutifully, though a little strained.
"Very well," McGonagall concluded as she rose from her chair and gestured a hand towards the door. "Now, let's head down to the Great Hall for the welcome-back-meal. Afterwards I will take care of the curfew wards and you will be free to move back to the dungeons."
He followed her out the office and down the spiral staircase with Granger in tow. Their footsteps echoed through the deserted corridors and several portraits greeted them politely as they walked past. Once they were nearly atop the Marble Staircase Granger glanced at him over her shoulder, smiling in a way that Draco could only describe as mischievous. She halted for a brief moment until he had caught up with her, and he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at her in suspicion.
"If I had known that all it would take for us to be allowed back into our House common rooms was for you to hex me into the hospital wing and play nice for two weeks, I would have asked you to do that months ago," she said quietly.
Despite himself Draco felt the corners of his mouth turn slightly upwards as he stared at the Head Girl in surprise. "Granger, was that a joke? Since when do you make jokes?"
"I should feel offended that you think I have no sense of humour," she muttered in response. "But I'm in too good a mood to care. Well, I'll see you later." They had reached the Great Hall and with a last smile Granger made her way over to the Gryffindor table where she joined her friends.
Staring after her for a moment, Draco blinked his eyes and strode towards the Slytherin table, joining Nott and Greengrass at their usual spot where they sat with a few of the sixth-years. He greeted them as he sat down across from them, next to sixth-year prefect Viola Richmond and her friend and classmate, Sylvie Melville. The female prefect grimaced at him as a greeting, and Draco knew it was because he had informed her earlier, during the prefects meeting aboard the Hogwarts Express, that she would have to carry more responsibilities for the remainder of the year now that Pansy hadn't returned.
"How nice of you to join us at last," Nott quipped. "Everything all right?"
"Very much so," Draco answered with a small smirk. "I have just been informed that my curfew has been lifted."
Nott looked pleased upon hearing the news and nodded his head in approval. "Good for you, Malfoy."
After that, the three seventh-years ate their meal mostly in silence, listening to the conversations of their younger House mates but not contributing. It was obvious from the dark expression on Greengrass' face that Draco was not the only one who missed Pansy. The blonde girl had barely said five words all day and she glared at anyone who attempted to have her engage in pointless chatter.
Once everyone had finished their dessert and the dishes were cleared, Professor McGonagall rose from her seat and lifted her hands to ask for silence. "Will all seventh year students please follow me into the side chamber?" she requested in a strong, clear voice once the noise had died down.
Scattered throughout the Great Hall the oldest students got to their feet, each of them with a confused expression on their face. Draco glanced at Nott and Greengrass, both of whom stared back at him from across the table, clearly hoping that he—being the Head Boy—knew more about what was happening. When he shrugged his shoulders at them they frowned at each other and moved to the front of the Hall, along the staff table and into the next room with the rest of their classmates. McGonagall stood at the front of the room with a woman that, now that he thought about it, Draco had seen walking around the castle a handful of times in the past few months.
The Headmistress waited until the door of the chamber had closed and cleared her throat. "I would like to introduce Madam Medens. She has been Hogwarts' grief counsellor for the past few months and will continue in this position for the remainder of the year." The tall, black-haired woman next to her gave them a polite nod after which McGonagall turned back at them. "During the winter holidays I have evaluated with Madam Medens, and based on her experiences with the sessions so far she has recommended that we forego the group counselling for the seventh-years and move straight to the individual counsel sessions. After all, you are most likely to have been among those fighting, and since a good quarter of the seventh-years haven't returned we feel that you are the ones most in need of individual guidance. Mr Hopkins, will you please pass these schedules on to your classmates?"
The blond curly-haired Hufflepuff in question took the stack of parchment from the Headmistress and started handing the schedules around.
Draco quickly scanned the parchment he was handed and saw immediately that every one of the seventh-years was going to have to come in sometime during the next five days. He himself was scheduled for Thursday after lunch, which would mean that he would miss the first hour of Potions, just as they would be getting started on a new concoction. He would probably have to join an existing pair when he came in. He groaned and Nott looked up at him with a knowing grimace, though he would only miss an hour of Herbology.
"I want to emphasise once more that these sessions are mandatory and prioritised over your classes. Anyone who fails to show up to their appointment without sufficient reason will find themselves in trouble," the Headmistress continued sternly, briefly giving Draco a pointed look over the frame of her glasses. He averted his eyes and stared at his the noses of his shoes, knowing that he would be the only one who would really be in trouble if he failed to show.
Shortly after this warning McGonagall dismissed them, and the seventh-years returned to the Great Hall to find that the rest of the student body had already disappeared towards their common rooms. Remembering that he was not yet free to go as he pleased, Draco halted next to Granger and waited for McGonagall to join them to the Head's Tower. The girl beside him was not as cheerful as she had been before dinner, and he concluded that she wasn't looking forward to the counselling sessions either.
Once the curfew wards were taken down Granger disappeared up to her dorm, undoubtedly to pack her belongings to move back to the Gryffindor Tower. Draco remained in the common room for a moment, considering his options. Then he resolutely turned around and left through the portrait hole. He kept following the empty corridors and descended the stairs until at last he found himself facing the stone wall that separated him from the Slytherin common room. He muttered the password and slipped inside through the crack that appeared.
The common room was crowded and noisy: just how he liked it and just what he had missed most. People were lounging on the couches or sitting at the tables playing games, and everyone seemed in good moods. Sixth-years Niles Hanley and Garrick Newbourne greeted him with pleased smirks, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked past to make his way to the couches in front of the fire that had been claimed by the seventh-years. There were only four of them left—five if one were to include Sally-Anne Perks, but somehow no one ever did. She rarely ever sat with them, and when she did it was only to talk to Greengrass.
"There he is," Nott said as he looked up at him from the couch. "Welcome back to the snake pit, Malfoy. We're a sad little lot—us seventh-years."
He had tried to sound as though he was joking, but Draco knew Nott well enough to be able to recognise the bitter undertone. There was strength in numbers, and even though the Slytherin hierarchy was crystal clear on the fact that the seventh-years were at the top, with only half of them left they weren't very intimidating anymore.
Draco dropped down on the couch next to Nott and was able to enjoy being back down in the Slytherin dungeons for an hour at most before he grew more and more irritable. As much as he enjoyed Nott and Greengrass' company, they were always quite serious. Though they certainly had a sense of humour that he appreciated, they had a hard time letting loose the way he and Pansy could.
It was one of the reasons why he had always considered Crabbe and Goyle his friends. They were rather stupid—there was no question about that—but at least they knew how to have mindless fun, and he really needed that from time to time. He needed it now. It wasn't long before every corner of the common room reminded him of Pansy or Crabbe and Goyle. He didn't like this. He had wished for this day for months, and now that he was finally allowed back down in the dungeons it just didn't feel right. After briefly glancing at his wristwatch Draco got to his feet, muttered a goodbye to his classmates and marched out of the common room.
It had been quite a while, but right now he really needed someone who understood this gnawing feeling of loneliness. He needed someone who wouldn't judge him for this moment of weakness. His mind was lost in thought, but luckily his feet had memorised the path to his destination.
Once he had reached the second floor he paused outside the grim door and glanced around to make sure there was no one in sight. Draco took a deep breath and entered the bathroom, dragging himself forward until he found the stall he knew to be her favourite. He pushed against the door until it opened and a pair of angry eyes snapped up at him from behind a pair of round glasses. Upon recognising him the transparent girl gasped in delight, giving him exactly the response that he had craved—that he needed. He smirked at her.
"Hello, Myrtle."
Thursday, 4 January 1999
The black-haired woman across from him seemed completely unfazed by the continuous silence in her office. About half an hour earlier she had welcomed him and introduced herself. When she had asked him if there was anything he wanted to talk about today, he had rudely spat a "no," at her, after which he had resigned to silence with another fifty-six minutes to kill.
Draco hated this session with his entire being, even though Madam Medens had not said a word about dealing with grief since he had shot down the suggestion to talk. It was the way she sat across from him, constantly looking at him with a small smile, waiting for him to change his mind. From time to time she asked him a question—something utterly irrelevant, like whether he enjoyed Quidditch or how he liked his coffee—after which the office would go quiet again. He wondered why she didn't just let him go, because he sure as hell wasn't going to talk about his feelings.
After visiting Moaning Myrtle on Sunday he had decided to not go back to the Slytherin common room yet. He would eventually move back down there, but he needed some time to get used to being back at Hogwarts without Pansy. His friends didn't know that he was allowed to move back down altogether, just that he was no longer bound to a curfew. The Head's Tower actually wasn't all that bad, especially now that Granger had moved out and he was there by himself. She wasn't so bad now that he wasn't forced to be around her all the time. Their interactions were limited to class and the occasional Head student exchange, all strictly business, just now he preferred it.
"Well, Mr Malfoy, it looks like your time is almost up," Madam Medens announced eventually, pulling him back from his thoughts. "Please let me know when your free periods are next week so that we can make a new appointment."
"New appointment?" Draco asked coldly. "I thought this would be it."
The counsellor studied him for a moment. "I'm sorry to disappoint," she said with a small smile, "but it's become quite clear to me this past hour that we need to continue these sessions for a while. I suspect we will need another six to eight sessions."
"Six to eight more weeks?! How the hell did you come up with that?" Draco spat out angrily. "We have discussed nothing and you will be wasting your time if you want to continue doing this, because the next six to eight goddamn appointments will be exactly like this one."
The office went quiet for a moment. "Mr Malfoy, I have been a counsellor for a great many years," Madam Medens began seriously. "When I asked you if there was anything you wanted to talk about today, you answered within a second of my question. Your answer was no, but the tone and swiftness with which you replied signifies the opposite."
She held up a thick brown folder. "I have received your files from the Headmistress and thus know a thing or two about what has happened around here over the years, which is why I casually asked about your friends and family. Your shoulders tensed but you neglected to answer, however, when I asked you about extended family, you replied that you don't have any, even though I know that your mother has two sisters. The way your shoulders tense up now tells me that you don't like that I'm talking about them, but of course, we're not here to get along, I'm just here to find out where it hurts and to guide you through the pain until that pain takes up a less prominent part in your life and is left alone for long enough to heal."
Draco glared at the woman in front of him. He had been tricked into exposing his feelings before, especially by Granger in the past few months, but he had always been instantly aware of his slip-ups. This time, he had apparently given her information without even being aware of it at all.
"When I asked you about Quidditch I was trying to find out if you have hobbies that give you enjoyment despite the aftermath of the War we are currently experiencing The fact that you are team Captain tells me it's important to you and that you take it seriously, which contrasts the information I have been given about your position on the team in your sixth year. You didn't answer me with enthusiasm but rather with a grimace, and that signifies that you don't enjoy the game as much as you used to but rather see it as a means to escape reality for a while. The report in your file about you attacking one of your former teammates not too long ago seems to confirm that."
Without really being aware of it Draco clenched his fists and took a deep breath, and Madam Medens gave him another small smile. "Finally, I asked you about your taste in coffee to just get to know you a little better. You'd be surprised to know how much one's taste in coffee tells about one's personality. Your preferences indicate that you're straight-forward and hard working, but prone to mood-swings as well. I'm afraid to say that you've quite confirmed that last one."
Draco slowly exhaled through his nose as he glared at the table between them. "Anything else?" he asked in a low voice.
"Not for now," she answered lightly. "Please let me know what your free periods are next week so we can set up a new appointment. A memo before Sunday evening will be sufficient. Have a good day, Mr Malfoy."
With one last glare in Madam Medens' direction, Draco got to his feet, snatched his book bag from the floor and marched out the office and into the empty corridor just as the bell chimed. He stomped to the Entrance Hall and down the stairs to the dungeons and halted outside the door to the Potions classroom. He needed to calm down and collect himself before entering, but knowing that his classmates were already paired up and that he would have no control over which team he would join didn't quite help.
With one last, deep breath Draco opened the door, stepped inside the classroom and slowly walked up to Slughorn's desk, subtly checking the pairs as he moved. Nott and Greengrass had paired up and had taken the desk in the back, and Granger and McDougal had the desk in front of them. On the other side of the aisle he saw Macmillan and Goldstein in the back, and Cornfoot and Brocklehurst in the front. Draco tried to suppress the hope to be assigned to join Nott and Greengrass in the back, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. After all, both of them had been his partner before.
"Ah, Mr Malfoy, good of you to join us," Slughorn greeted him jovially once Draco halted in front of his desk. He handed the Potions Master the parchment slip that he had received from Madam Medens excusing his absence and waited for his assignment.
"Each team is brewing a different potion this time," the Head of Slytherin House told him. "Ms Brocklehurst and Mr Cornfoot have started on The Draught of Living Death. Given that it's slightly more difficult than the others I think it's only fair if you join them. Off you go."
When Draco turned around he briefly and unintentionally locked eyes with Granger, who had apparently been watching him at Slughorn's desk. She was frowning a little and in response he raised an eyebrow at her, causing her to blink and turn back to the preparation of her potion. He frowned as he made his way to the back of the classroom and joined the two Ravenclaws with a sigh. It was just his luck to be assigned to join the two most studious classmates. The next few weeks were likely going to be very dull.
He was unenthusiastically greeted before Brocklehurst brought him up to speed on how they had divided the workload. Draco took out his book, set down his back and sighed as he browed through the book, searching for the chapter about The Draught of Living Death. They had attempted this potion in their sixth year during Slughorn's introduction class, but it had been far above their level back then and it had just been a way for Slughorn to see how far along they were. Draco groaned at the memory of not winning the bottle of Felix Felicis. Things likely would have turned out way different for him had he obtained the Liquid Luck. Grateful for the distraction from the session earlier he cleared his head and focussed on the task at hand, determined to do better than he had two years ago.