Midnight Swimming Chapter 1: R, a harry potter fanfic

Chapter 1

Draco

21st of May 1998

Directly after the fall of Voldemort and his pathetic attempt at yet another Wizarding War, Draco and Narcissa kept to themselves, awaiting Lucius' trial. Narcissa was on a downward spiral without Lucius, racked with never ending worry for her husband while he withered away in Azkaban. Once the gavel came down, inevitably deciding that he is guilty of all his charges, Lucius Malfoy was to remain in Azkaban until his last dying breath. Draco had tried his best to get his mother's mind off of his father, but to no avail. Even with her own trial looming over them he felt as though she was dissociating and conjuring up new ways to distract herself from her unknown fate.

But alas, today was the day of his mother's trial and Draco did his best to ignore the scowls, insults and threats made under passerby breath as he sat in the courtroom, watching his mother's trial unfold. The atmosphere within the room was suffocating, the tension was thick enough to slice with a butter knife.

The inevitable sense of dread gnawed at him as he peered down at his mother sitting in the rigid chair in the center of the courtroom from the gallery, her stoic features hiding her uneasiness he knew she harbored. She would never outwardly show weakness, but deep down, the both of them were terrified of the idea of her finding her way to rot away alongside his father.

However, the trial unexpectedly took a turn for the better when Harry Potter steps forward. Narcissa and Draco are flabbergasted when he speaks on her behalf. Potter, of all people, advocating for leniency for Narcissa was almost incomprehensible.

Am I fucking dreaming? Did I get sucked into an alternate reality?

A flicker of gratitude creeps in. The pounding of the gavel ends Draco's dread, letting him know his mother is no longer on house arrest and free to live out the remainder of her life, nowhere near Azkaban. Draco leaps from his seat to hug his mother, he slips through the disgruntled crowd and embraces her tightly. He spots Potter out of the corner of his eye walking out of the courtroom.

"Um, I'm going to be right back," Draco says in an unsure voice as he pulls away from his mother.

Narcissa brows pull together, tilting her head to give him a questionable glance. Draco's eyes flicker to Potter as he exits the courtroom. Narcissa follows his gaze and nods her head in understanding. Draco briskly walks towards the exit to find him.

"Potter!" He calls out to Potter, picking his pace up to a light jog as Draco approaches him.

He turns at the sound of Draco's voice; he doesn't give Draco an expression to give him a sense of how Potter feels. Draco runs his hand through his hair, internally squaring himself to outwardly give his thanks.

"I, um, wanted to say.. you know for…" Draco pulls on the back of his neck, eyes flickering from Potter's face to the ground, hoping that Potter's not a total idiot and will see that he's trying to thank him.

Potter simply gives a small smile and nods his head.

"Oh!" Potter exclaims, as if he's just remembering something. "I still have your wand."

My wand. That's right he still has my wand.

Wait.

Granger's wand.

We still have Granger's wand.

"Oh, not with you, right?" Draco asks, furrowing his brows.

"No, I don't have it. You could come by the Burrow and get it," Harry suggests.

Fuck that. I have no intention of being around that many Weasley's.

Harry gauges Draco's grimace, "Or come by 12 Grimmauld Place."

The Ancient House of Black.

Draco nods at this suggestion.

"Come by sometime around noon tomorrow," Harry says as he waves a small goodbye.

The following day Draco held Granger's wand in his hands, time ticking by, waiting for an appropriate time to apparate to 12 Grimmauld Place.

Should I even give this back to her?

He stares at her wand as he recalls the day they obtained it. Memories of Granger's screams echo throughout his mind, so loud that occluding seemed difficult. He forces his eyes shut and concentrates to shield her screams from his other memories, as if it could taint the rest of them.

"Lila!" Draco shouts into the air.

Pop

His smallest house elf, Lila, pops into view.

"Yes, master Draco?" She asks innocently with her huge doe eyes.

"Make a box for this will you," he demands dismissively, handing her the wand.

Lila nods her head 'yes' as she takes the wand from her master.

Snap

Lila conjures up a veridian rectangular box with black velvet cushion on the inside. She gently places Granger's wand into the box, then closes it with the matching lid. Lila snaps again and a silver tulle ribbon appears, magically wrapping around the box tightly to then tie a clean and crisp bow at the center of the box.

That's a bit excessive for Granger. Didn't have to dress up the box for her.

Draco scowls at the elegant box as Lila gives him a huge smile being content with her little flare of magic, handing the box to him. He exhales his annoyance before grabbing his mother's wand from his trouser pocket.

Crack

June 1998

A few days after his birthday a letter came from the Ministry regarding his uncompleted 7th year and how this needed to be rectified immediately, if he was hoping to rebuild trust within the Wizarding community or want to seek out a career within the Wizarding government. But Draco knew what the letter really was, a demonstration of their power and exploitation of his unfinished education to fulfill whatever 'reconciliation' efforts they're playing at.

"What do you mean Durmstrang rejected my application?" Draco hisses at his mother.

"No, Draco, the Ministry postponed your application, the school didn't reject you," Narcissa sighs.

"Pardon? Since when does the bloody Ministry interfere with mere applications to Wizarding Schools?" Draco's brows pull together, his anger overshadowing his confusion.

"I'm not sure, Draco," his mother attempts a neutral tone, "perhaps it has something to do with our family aiding the Dark Lord and being complacent during his failed attempt to upend everything."

He scoffs, "Well, father's ties really did us in and he's not even around to bask in the spoils."

"That's enough!" Narcissa nearly shouts at him, giving Draco a warning glare. "Your father sacrificed everything for our family! You will not speak about your father with such disrespect in this house and most importantly, in front of me, do you understand?" Her inflection indicates she's not asking.

Still maintaining eye contact with his mother, Draco's indignant exhale is his only response. A brief pause of silence fills the air as they continue to share scowls.

"I am to finish my last year; they are aware of that aren't they?" Draco's annoyance oozes from him.

Narcissa's gaze and shoulders softens, she exhales, "Yes, I'm sure they're aware of that Dra-"

"So what? They're just going to sabotage my future or attempt at one, for something I was forced into? For something I didn't have a choice in? " The level of his voice shaking the walls within his bedroom.

His mother gives him a sympathetic expression. "Draco, darling," her voice is littered with trepidation, "I've written to the Ministry in hopes to plead your case. I can assure you I'm doing everything in my power to get you into a respectable school."

Draco's harsh expression falters, guilt paining him. He forces his eyes shut and massages them with his thumb and ring finger, freeing a long exhale.

She shouldn't be the one to clean up my father's mess. But alas, he's not here. He's rotting away in Azkaban awaiting his inevitable death sentence or the Dementor's kiss.

"Mother forgive me, I don't mean to take this out on you."

"I know, darling, you're just frustrated, and rightfully so. We're both having to navigate these difficult times."

His shoulders slump, he tilts his head back now staring at his ceiling.

More guilt.

He'd be a fool not to notice how his mother nearly shackled herself to the Manor, only leaving for necessary errands to avoid potential unsavory articles. He knew she'd never admit it. She'd say, 'The papers don't bind me, I'm a woman of my own accord. I've been found Not Guilty in my trial and shall live out my life as I see fit.' or something of the sort. However, none of his mother's friends have stopped by, they've all scattered like the rats he knew them to be and the invitations to galas and other events inevitably ceased. The Malfoy name means less and less as time ticks by. Hardly anyone worth a damn wants anything to do with or be associated with the name. It used to hold value, honor, and mean something. Now, it's about as useless as the Weasley household.

No.

Now, that name holds more power and meaning in the Wizarding World than it ever has.

Fuck.

The thought of the Weasley name bearing more meaning in Wizarding society than the Malfoy's, curdles his stomach. That's only due to them being on the "right side of history."

Well fuck them and fuck history.

"Did the Ministry say why they've barred me from attending Durmstrang?"

A beat of silence.

Draco stares at his mother again in hopes for a response, this time glancing at the parchment in her hand. She doesn't say anything, just silently steps towards him and woefully hands Draco the paper. He begins to read, eyes not leaving the page as he escorts his mother out of his room.

Important Notice for Draco Malfoy

From the

Ministry of Magic

Draco Lucius Malfoy,-

He stops at the doorway and tears his eyes away from the letter, "Please stop opening my mail, mother," his tone light, giving her a small smile.

She returns a pained smile, cupping his face with one hand, "Sorry love, old habit."

They share a small smile for a brief moment before she leaves his room, closing the door behind her.

He turns, stalking toward his bed, his eyes returning to the letter as he sits on the edge of his bed.

This owl comes bearing an urgent message from the Ministry of Magic. Your application to Durmstrang has been postponed by the Ministry. As you are aware, recent events have led to your impending trial. The Ministry as a whole finds it to be within our rights to restrict certain individuals from transportation. The Ministry feels that it's imperative to limit your travel pending your trial. Starting immediately, you will be confined to the Malfoy Manor that resides in Wiltshire, England. It is crucial that you adhere to certain regulations until then.

What. The. FUCK!

Should you wish to depart the Manor for any reason, a formal request form must be submitted to the Ministry for approval. No exceptions will be made.

Any attempts to flee will be met with the strictest of consequences.

Failure to comply with these directives will result in further legal action being taken against you. The Ministry takes these matters very seriously, and we expect your full cooperation during this time.

For any inquiries or to request the necessary forms, please contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at your earliest convenience.

We trust that you will conduct yourself appropriately and in accordance with the law. The Ministry wants to remind you that if you do not comply with these new restrictions, you will be placed in Azkaban until your impending trial. Your cooperation in this matter is imperative for a swift and fair resolution to your trial.

Sincerely,

The Ministry of Magic

Minister of Magic

Kingsley Shacklebolt

You've got to be fucking joking. My mother's wrong. These times aren't difficult. They're fucking barbaric.

He draws his wand "Incendio."

He scowls at the parchment floating in the air as the flames slowly eat away at it, leaving his hatred for The Ministry and bits of soot on the wood of his floor as the only evidence of its existence.

August 1998

A month has come and gone since he's received his restriction, and Draco is bored. Bored with the never-ending emptiness filling his days. Bored of the idea that his restriction will be permanent. Bored of all the papers plastered with Potter's, Weasley's and Granger's stupid fucking faces. Bored of his Manor's library. Bored of walking the perimeter of the grounds. So, he's resorted to banging his head against his wall in hopes of inspiring new ways of entertaining himself.

*BANG*

*Bang*

*BANG*

*Bang*

Pop

"Master do y-"

"Go away!"

*BANG*

*Bang*

"Master Draco will stop hurting himself!"

*BANG*

Draco stops banging his head against his bedroom wall to look over at Topsy with a deadpan glare. The tiny elf huffs while she crosses her arms. He returns his attention back to the wall.

*Bang*

*BANG*

*Bang*

Snap

A soft yellow cushiony fabric materializes all over the wall.

"Eugh," he rips himself from the wall and stalks to his bedside table where his wand is, "Fucking annoying ass elf!"

Topsy flinches, not knowing what Draco's reaction will entail. He snatches his wand, spins around to face the elf. A glimmer of fear flickers in her eyes as she slowly takes a step back.

"Mistress Cissa requests Master Draco for supper," she asks in a low cautious voice.

"No, Topsy. Not now."

"When will Master like his supper?"

"I'll go without it tonight."

"Master will not! Topsy will not let Master starve."

Annoyance begins to prick him, "I'm not going to starve, you daft elf!" He massages his eyes to ease the migraine Topsy has managed to create. "Fine, just leave me." He quips with vexation.

"Topsy will place supper in Master's room with a warming charm." she says ever so softly, not to agitate him further.

Pop

Draco releases a guilted exhale, briefly hesitating before he apparates to the Manor's Garden. Because he can't go anywhere else.

Draco stirs for hours in bed. Sleep painfully evading him.

Fucking hell.

He sits up, tossing his hand through his hair out of his face.

How am I supposed to fucking finish 8th year, when I literally can't leave the Manor?

He panders about schools he could apply to if he wasn't barred from leaving. He thought of the school in Egypt, remembering he once heard Pansy talk about their Magical Ancient Relics Program being relatively new and intriguing. He thought of the schools in Brazil and Australia. He liked the idea of possibly attending the school in the U.S. strictly on the fact that he'd be nowhere near the bloody hell hole he was now trapped in. Then his thoughts finally drifted to Hogwarts…

There's no way in fucking hell he'd ever go back to that shit hole. For a plethora of reasons. One: it's fucking awful. Two: he highly doubts that they'd let him return seeing as he almost murdered the last Headmaster. Three: Even with Dumblefuck dead and gone, it was still fucking awful. Four: he also doubted anyone who's family ties were as tightly wound around the Dark Lord's as theirs wouldn't be allowed near other students - be allowed near anyone, honestly. He'd be the only one if that were the case….

That would be a very fucking lonely existence to endure for an entire year.

Wait. Are they anticipating I won't maintain my freedom? Have they already decided my fate?

Crack

Draco's brows pull together in confusion.

That's definitely not one of my elves.

"Have you been rejected from any schools?"

Although he can't see the face of who the familiar voice belongs to, he knows exactly who it is.

Pansy

He hears the shuffling of feet and the dull sound of robes falling to the floor. His bed slightly dips as she crawls into the bed.

"In a sorts."

"Well, I guess I'm glad I'm not the only. I haven't heard from Theo yet but wouldn't doubt that he's also been rejected from schools. If he applied to others anyways."

The soft scent of sugar and lemons catches his attention as she cuddles up next to Draco's side, placing her warm leg on him.

"Highly doubt he applied anywhere." Draco snickers to himself. "But, Oi, you can't crawl into my bed smelling of sweets and not offer me any!"

He doesn't see her smirking, but he knows she is.

The delectable lemony sugary scent becomes stronger, he reaches his hand forward to grab the biscuit undoubtedly in front of him. With Pansy's unannounced visit it has him recalling a plethora of other's from Pansy's estate.

"You know your elf, what's his name?"

"Oh, Wreek."

"Well, Wreek, has been following Lila around the Manor lately, think she's gained another shadow really."

Pansy chuckles, "The creature is absolutely smitten by Lila."

Draco grimaces in the dark, but then turns his head in her direction. "If they mated and reproduced an elf, who would be the owner of that elf?"

Pansy swats him on what she thinks would be the top of his head, however she misses most of him and mainly swats his hair. Draco chuckles and moves his head back.

"I'm pretty sure since you're the one with the female, you would get the rights to the additional servant."

With that titillating confirmation he takes his first bite he places a hand on Pansy's smooth leg.

A soft moan escapes him, "Merlin, you do make good sweets."

Pansy giggles to herself and nuzzles her head on Draco's chest.

They lie there in silence for a while.

One of Pansy's hands slowly drifts to Draco's penis, lightly touching his shaft from the outside of his boxer briefs, then begins to gently cradle his balls. He smirks to himself and shakes his head.

Pansy is anything, but subtle.

She lets go of his genitalia and moves to straddle him, bending down to kiss him. Their kisses are deep but lack any real emotion. They've been fooling around since Draco's birthday. It started as one drunken event, but then turned into a regular occurrence only without the alcohol. Well mostly without alcohol. There have been a few good drunken shags here and there in the beginning.

Draco tries to focus on Pansy and shagging her right, but his thoughts keep drifting to his impending trial. Anxiety begins to trickle in.

Pansy, notices that he has yet to gain an erection, pulls from him, "You rejecting me too, Malfoy?"

He shakes his head lightly laughing, "Merlin knows I'd be a dead fool to do something like that."

Pansy unstraddles him and plops down next to him, not touching but still feeling the warmth of each other. She huffs and crosses her arm in protest.

"You were supposed to be a safe bet Draco."

"I'm sorry, Pans. I just can't stop thinking about my trial."

The air between them grows solemn. She lets out a sigh and faces him, her hand propping up her head. The moonlight was just bright enough to see the outline of his face.

"I finally got my trial date: it's not until fucking December. Have you got yours yet?"

He turns his head to look at her.

"No, not yet."

As much as he envies her for having the mere knowledge of an end date to this tortuous purgatory, they've found themselves in, he's also dreading what could come of their decision. He's sure Pansy will be fine; she was in a similar boat as the Malfoy's. Her family had to host the Dark Lord a number of times and with her father harboring the Dark Mark, committing "atrocities" and engaging in "deplorable behavior against muggle and wizarding kind." He's certain she'll get some kind of punishment. Although she hasn't committed crimes herself, associating and apparently merely being a part of a family who's committed crimes, will grant you the glorious gift of travel restrictions.

She lays back down, turning so her backs to Draco. "Well, I'm not leaving. Your bed's warm and I'm far too tired to get dressed AND apparate back home."

Draco rolls his eyes and turns his back to hers. "Night Pansy," he chuckles to her.

There's a small silence before Pansy speaks again. "If you want, I can bar Wreek from popping over here."

He considers the idea of not having Lila's shadow around, but those two have become some fraction of entertainment for him. Watching Wreek fawn over Lila for her to be painfully oblivious and allow him to accompany her on the errands either Narcissa or Draco give her. If he was honest with himself, he would admit that seeing Lila smiling and practically playing like a child is sluggishly thawing his heart.

"No, let the creature be, he can be helpful at times."

Pansy doesn't respond to this, and his thoughts turn back to the trial. He creates fucked up scenarios in his head of unfavorable decisions that they'll make against him. Scanning his memories of questionable events that could lead to such an unpleasant decision. One that comes to mind that he's sure will haunt him until the day that he dies. Her screams. Her screams alone haunt his nightmares, dreams, and daydreams. Haunts his existence really. He slams his eyes shut, attempting to banish the sound of her pleas, the level of pain she wretched as Aunt Bella viciously carved into her arm.

Mudblood

That. That could do him in. He would never say it out loud, but that was the worst day of his life. Seeing Hermione squirming there on the floor of his manor, begging for salvation from the never-ending torture that his aunt inflicted on her. He wanted it to end. Her screams. The guilt. Hosting Voldemort. The War. All of it. For a short while, he hated Granger more for making him feel such guilt. For wanting to stop the tortuous pleas to save her. Merlin, for a split second he wanted to take her and aparate them to a safe location away from the darkness of war that he anticipated, but yet still couldn't fathom. He knew that people would be harmed, tortured, even killed. But seeing someone he's known for years on the other end was beyond horrifying. He remembers the taste of bile he had to choke back during the entirety of Bella's "interrogation." Somehow Granger made it a million times more fucking unbearable as she begged him to help, attempted to plead with him to get his aunt to stop. After she did that, he knew he couldn't leave the drawing room, even if he made some half-ass excuse. Bellatrix would've made sure he bore witness to all her suffering. A warning, to both Granger and him.

"I think it's best if we stop."

Tearing his thoughts away from reliving her screams and silently thanking Pansy for not leaving, Draco doesn't need context though, he knows what she means. Sex. Best if they stop having sex. And he agrees, it would be for the best.

"Okay, Pans."

He stirs for less than expected before he's able to drift to sleep.

Draco stands in a stone room he's never been in; the feeling of the space has a familiarity he can't quite place. The edges of his vision are partially blurred while time seems to happen at a slower than normal pace. There're two beds pushed up against the back stone wall of the room. The colors of scarlet red and gold tapestry hanging from the canopy of the beds indicate that he's in a Gryffindor's bedroom.

Why am I in here?

Muffled voices in the distance seem to near him. Draco tries to leave the room but his body refuses to move. He watches two individuals passionately kissing as they make their way into the room. He's unable to make out who the pair are but they seem familiar.

Am I dreaming?

Someone else enters the room, not noticing Draco, they engage in a muffled short conversation with the former kissing pair before, 'Get out!' is shouted to the redheaded girl who just entered.

Was that Weasletits?

As the girl who he presumes to be Ginny Weasley leaves the room, he attempts to focus on the pair still in the room, hoping to figure out who they are. He watches as the curly hair brunette girl pushes the blonde-haired boy down onto the bed. His features seem eerily similar to his own.

Is that ME?

As the brunette straddles the boy, Draco tries to force his body to move, but it won't. He tries to say something, but as he calls out to them his voice doesn't leave his mouth. Unsure of what the couple is about to do, yet instinctively knowing they're about to become far more intimate than the passionate kisses they shared earlier, he fails to propel his body forward to leave. His upper thighs and mid region begin to delightfully tingle in the same spot the brunet is straddling the boy who resembles Draco. His breathing and heart rate pick up speed. The brunette bends down to say something to the boy she's straddling, her hair falling on the other side of her shoulder, exposing her face.

Is that… Granger?

Entranced by the idea of fulfilling long pined after thoughts of having intimate moments with a certain muggle born witch, he watches them and their intimate moment. Hoping one day he can share a similar moment. Granger kisses the blonde-haired boy and as she does this that same delightful tingle is felt on his own lips. He lightly touches his lips to confirm that he is feeling the tingling sensation and to hold on to that marvelous feeling.

Pop

"Master Dra- Oh, morning Miss Parkinson. Is you staying for breakfast?"

Draco stirs awake, recalling his dream of kisses and tingles. He forces his eyes shut, hoping to banish the thought of Granger. Pansy jostles him, moaning a tired moan. He lets out a pained moan, he was now hoping he'd be able to sleep until he was dead, but dreamlessly.

Snap

The curtains fly open, revealing the morning light. They both make a loud pained noise. Draco yanks his pillow on top of his head, unsuccessfully hiding from the agonizing sunlight.

"No," she says in a hoarse voice.

The elf nods then walks around the bed to where Draco is.

"Mistress Cissa requests Master Draco."

"Go away, elf," his voice is muffled, but loud enough to hear.

"Mistress Cissa requests Master Draco!"

Draco winces, even the pillow couldn't muffle the awful shriek of the elf's voice.

"I fucking heard you, Topsy!" He shouts, head still submerged under the pillow.

Draco feels the bed level off as Pansy chuckles as she gets off the bed.

Snap

The pillow lifts without his consent, subjecting Draco to the dreadful morning light he was surely trying to avoid.

Maybe I should have hexed the blasted twat yesterday, then maybe she would have thought twice about fucking waking me up.

Ripping himself from his warm and welcoming bed, he curses the elf under his breath as he rummages through his clothes for a set of black silk pajamas with an M monichor on the right breast pocket; a gift his mother bought before the war that's said to have healing abilities while worn. His hope with this set is that it won't cost him a scolding for him being 'indecent' so early in the morning.

"Fuck, where is it?"

Draco turns to Pansy, buttoning the last top of his pajamas furrowing his brows, "What are you looking for?"

"My wand, I thought I placed it on your bedside table when I apparated in." Paying no attention to Draco, she lifts the bed covers then bends down to check under the bedside table, her nightgown rising to reveal her lack of undergarments.

Topsy hurries to cover her eyes with one and extends the other, "Ahhh!" her shriek bounces off the walls, "Topsy leaves now. Hurry Master Draco."

Pop

They both glance at one other and share a laugh. Draco searches the floor surrounding him and then kneels down to check under the bed. He spots her dark wand closer to his side than hers, and he spots something just beyond the wand. A journal.

"I've got it, Pans," He calls out to her while snatching the wand and then the journal.

"Ah, thank you!" She says coming along to his side of the bed to retrieve it. "Can't really leave without that. Well, I mean there's the floo, but I'm not in the mood for another one of your mother's displeased looks this early in the morning," she says as he hands back her wand, she eyes the journal he's holding.

Draco notices where her eyes went, he tilts the journal her way and lifts his brow as if to ask, 'yours?' Pansy shakes her head no. He chuckles, shaking his head, eyeing the dark green leather-bound journal.

"And I also don't want to hear how she doesn't approve of your ' unannounced' sleepovers. Seeing how I've been restricted to the manor, I can't quite evade her chiding," he says, tossing the journal onto his bed.

A second of silence.

"Restricted? For how long?"

"Until my trial," his tone was dull.

"Draco no, I was going to invite you over to Astoria's tomorrow evening."

"Take it up with Shacklebolt, I'm sure that conversation will go over well."

Pansy gives him an annoyed brief glare. She exhales her annoyance, flaring her nostrils, "I fucking hate it here!"

"Me too Pans."

The sound of light knocking tears their attention to the door.

"Please, Mistress Cissa asking for Master Draco." Topsy calls out from the other side of the closed door.

"I think I've traumatized her." Pansy snickers, shoving her feet inside her shoes then putting on her long dark gray robes.

Draco replaces the journal for his wand then rounds the bed and kisses the side of her cheek, "Pans, you've traumatized us all."

"Ah, then I believe I've done my job. I can die in peace now." She says up at him with a triumphant smile.

He slips on his black worn house slippers, "Goodbye, Pans."

"Goodbye fuck head." She says in a singsong voice.

Crack

Chuckling to himself he opens the door to find Topsy slapping her hands over her eyes, "Miss using the floo?"

His chuckle now a laugh, "No, she's gone."

Topsy peering through her fingers to double check to see the truth in Draco's words, she exhales her relief.

He strides in the breakfast parlor, noting the typical breakfast spread the elves cooked up and that his mother's sitting down, reading The Prophet while pointing to a letter in the center of the enlarged table.

"Good morning, darling. For you."

Walking over to kiss the top of her head, "I wouldn't agree on the good part, but morning, Mother."

Narcissa waves her hand in dismissal as Draco goes to retrieve the letter.

"From whom?"

"The Ministry."

Draco Malfoy,

We hope this letter found you promptly. As representatives of the Ministry of Magic, we are reaching out to you regarding an important matter concerning your education and future within the wizarding community.

It has come to our attention that your mother, Narcissa Malfoy, has raised inquiries regarding your final year of Wizarding school. We understand that there may be circumstances surrounding your academic progression, and it is imperative that these matters are addressed promptly and thoroughly.

In light of this, we are extending an invitation to both you and your mother to attend a meeting with The Minister at the Ministry of Magic on Monday the 24 of August at 8:15 o'clock am, sharp.-

He turns to look over at the grandfather clock standing by the entrance of the room. The chimes of the clock feels as though they're vibrating the entire manor.

8 o'clock

"Shit!"

"Drac-" He doesn't let his mother finish. He casts a quick charm on the parchment, so it reads aloud its contents. Quickly taking a drink of orange juice to then take a gigantic bite of his blueberry muffin, before darting upstairs to change.

I should have just gotten dressed for the fucking day.

He hears the Minister's voice bellow out from the breakfast parlor, speaking the words he's already read just as he reaches his door. He hears the screech of the chair against the floor and then his mother shouts, "Bloody hell, so damn typical!"

Oh, Mum's furious.

Draco listens to the bit he didn't read.

"Accio clothes"

His wardrobe flings open and out flies a pair of tailored trousers, a black long sleeve button down, dark gray pair of socks and his black wizarding robes. Draco sheds his pajamas replacing them with the clothes flung on the bed.

This meeting will provide an opportunity for us to discuss your academic situation in detail and explore potential pathways forward.

Your prompt attendance and cooperation in this matter are greatly appreciated.

Draco rolls his eyes.

Fucking Ministry trying to be sly.

Should you have any questions or concerns prior to our meeting, please do not hesitate to contact us. We look forward to the opportunity to assist you in resolving this matter.

Regards,

Ministry of Magic

Minister of Magic

Kingsley Shacklebolt

He shoves his feet in his relaxed Buggernaught wingtips that were passed down to him. Their distinctive floral B branded into the black leather. Flicking his wand to tighten and lace them as he shoots out of the room.

Spotting his mother in the foyer, using a charm to fix any of her stray hairs, he reaches for the pocket watch.

8:04

"What time did they owl?" He asks furrowing his brow, extending his arm for his mother to take.

"Five minutes before you came down for breakfast." She says not looking at Draco, flaring her nostrils, her tone heavy with irritation.

"Of fucking course, they would."

"Draco Lucius Ma-"

CRACK

Draco apparates them to the outside of Kingsley's office, wards are placed so no one can just pop into the office at random. He would have apparated straight into the room if he could have.

A brunette with beach wave curls, almost a striking resemblance to Hermione, but Draco dismisses it.

The mop on Granger's head doesn't hold a candle to this woman's perfectly maintained hair.

The attractive brunette greets them. "The Minister is indisposed currently, you'll have to try another time," without hesitation or looking up at them, writing away, fulfilling whatever duty.

Narcissa and Draco glance at one another and share an eye roll. Undeterred by the secretary in front of them, they continue to remain where they are, arms still linked.

The woman lets out a perceived irritated sigh before looking up at the pair.

"Oh," her eyes widened. "Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy," her eyes flicker between the two. "The Minister will be right with you."

Narcissa takes out her own pocket watch, minding the time.

"Late for being early." Narcissa quietly says to Draco.

The sound of the Minister's door opening turns everyone's attention, and out walks Shacklebolt.

Noticing the Malfoy's without giving away a welcoming emotion, "Ah, yes. Thank you for arriving. I do apologize for the last-minute request," his tone is anything but apologetic," I'll be indisposed for the following few days and thought it would be best to squeeze this matter in between rather important meetings today."

Draco takes note of Kingsley's lack of actual apology he's given and lack of acknowledgment of just how last minute this meeting is.

Probably hoping I would miss this meeting and then probably get some bullshit letter of how I don't take my education seriously given the 'respected' invitation I was given to discuss it further. Fucking twat.

"Of course, Minister. Thank you for taking the time to discuss Draco's academic future." Narcissa courteously replies nodding her head.

Kingsley gestures for them to enter his office.

*BANG*

Crack

"OH, you've got to be FUCKING joking!" Pansy's voice erupts from behind Draco.

He interrupts his headbanging to face her. Noticing the parchment in her hands, he presumes it's similar to his from the ministry.

"I can't believe they'd actually do that!"

"Piss off Pans, rather busy at the moment."

*BANG*

She yanks on his arm so he's facing her, "Fucking READ it!" She screams as she shoves the parchment in his face.

"No, thanks," he states dismissively and performs the same charm as before, his room filling with Shacklebolt's voice,

*BANG*

"Dear Pansy Parkinson,-

*BANG*

We hope this letter finds you well.-

*BANG*

"Finds me well' my ass!" Pansy shouts behind him.

*BANG*

As representatives of the Ministry of Magic, we are writing to inform you of an important development regarding your education and future within the wizarding community.-

*BANG*

It has recently come to our attention that you have not enrolled in any wizarding school for your final year of education.-

*BANG*

"Because I've been bloody rejected by EVERY FUCKING SCHOOL!"

Understanding the significance of completing one's magical studies, particularly in these times of rebuilding and reconciliation, we have taken the liberty of pre-enrolling you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.-

Draco rips away from his bedroom wall. Staring at the floating parchment.

Quickly she points aggressively with her flathand; a pointing gesture they like to call: knife-handing, in the direction of the letter, eyeing Draco as if to say, 'see.' Pansy then stares back at the parchment and proceeds to flip it the bird with both hands.

We are pleased to inform you that the esteemed-

Pansy begins to dramatically mouth along with the letter, using her hand as a puppet to facilitate her theatrical expressions which convey her true emotions of disdain and hatred. She flippantly nods her head in places she deems most important.

Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, has graciously accepted your enrollment at Hogwarts of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the upcoming academic year. This opportunity is a rare occurrence, particularly given your family's involvement in the recent conflicts, and it should not be taken lightly. The decision to extend this offer reflects both the importance of your education and our commitment to fostering reconciliation and unity within the wizarding community.-

Draco's mouth gapes open; his expression is lost on her. His eyes flicker back and forth between her and the floating letter.

We trust that you will approach this opportunity with the seriousness and gratitude it deserves. Attending Hogwarts will not only provide you with the necessary education to flourish in the magical world, but also offer a chance for personal growth and contribution to our community's rebuilding efforts.

Please consider this letter as official notification of your pre-enrollment to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Further details regarding your enrollment, including transportation arrangements and any necessary accommodations, will be provided in due course by the Headmistress herself.

Should you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact us. We look forward to you furthering your education at Hogwarts and supporting you in your academic journey.

Sincerely,

Ministry of Magic

Minister of Magic

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Crack

Pansy and Draco turn to find Theo and Blaise both clutching parchments, the Ministry's seal giving it away. Fury in Blaise's eyes while there's genuine shock in Theo's. Draco flings his head back, clutching his stomach as he howls with a dangerous laugh while the others share cautious glances. After a minute, Draco's laughter begins to shallow, and he wipes the tears that's escaped.

"Well, looks like we'll ALL be attending Hogwarts of Witchcraft and Wizardry for our last year ladies and gentlemen," he says with arms wide open.

Their heads snap to Draco. All of them with the same expression, it was a image that screamed 'what the fuck' louder than any other words could ever convey.