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Author's Note:
Sorry for the late update; the holidays are hard.
TW for abuse, mentioned very vaguely throughout the chapter. TW for some ED tendencies as well, towards the end.
Thanks for reading!
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The sun was beginning to set by the time that the Hogwarts Express approached the outer bounds of the school, a thin veil of warm orange and pink hues descending from the sky and settling over the horizon. As the train slowly came to a halt and the meticulous, mechanical churning of wheels on tracks abruptly ceased, a calm but heavy silence descended upon the group. It seemed as though, for the first time in several hours, the Golden Trio once again became aware of Draco's existence.
Students could be heard outside of the cabin, immediately shuffling to grab their belongings and head outside while chattering ceaselessly with their friends, contributing to a chaos that felt somehow far away. Draco could feel his face flush a small amount, suddenly feeling as if he were intruding on the friend group that had occupied his compartment rather than the other way around.
He pulled his wand out of the pocket of his robe and cast a quick charm on the copy of The Grimoire of Eternal Recall in his lap to hold his place, closing the book and holding it into his chest.
Hermione removed herself from being so entangled under Ron's arm and cleared her throat. "We should probably wait until some of the younger students clear out—it sounds a bit disorderly out there."
She glanced over to Harry as she said it, seeming to pause and analyze his face although he remained relatively expressionless.
Draco remained silent and otherwise made no movements to leave, shuffling himself a bit farther down into his seat, if anything. When it became clear that the uncomfortable silence was going to persist, he chimed in quietly with an "I'd prefer not to run into anybody either."
Hermione and Harry both nodded in acknowledgement while Ron simply glared at him, as he had been doing periodically for the majority of the train ride.
Draco wondered how much the group had really gathered about his new reality. He had definitely heard plenty about their lives over their several shared hours on the train, as if he desired any updates on the Golden Trio beyond what was incessantly scrawled in the tabloids of the Daily Prophet.
Young savior of the wizarding world spends the summer with cherished friends and family, apart from the ones that were harshly ripped away by any monsters who dared to do whatever they could to protect themselves and their own families from the most powerful dark wizard in recallable history— he felt like he got the gist of it.
Meanwhile, Draco would need to return to the children of some of those monsters in a shorter amount of time than he felt prepared for. Sure, there were plenty of other Slytherin students who were no doubt relieved that their often violent, bigoted parents were put behind bars. But others—Draco's mind drifted to some of his old counterparts, and dare he say friends—would not be quite as forgiving.
Draco felt sick. He focused his eyes on a specific spot on the floor, taking measured breaths and attempting to convince himself that the lurching in his stomach was just a bit of motion sickness from the train.
Eventually, the noise of the havoc occurring outside their doors faded until it was just the gentle, monotonous humming of the train's engine.
"Well," Draco said, slowly standing and placing the book he was reading back into his trunk and levitating it back to the ground, "that's my cue to leave."
Without another word, he grabbed the handle of his trunk and exited the compartment, looking both ways to ensure that there was nobody else occupying the hallway before exiting into the brisk air of dusk.
He did a quick scan of the environment, briefly recognizing that he didn't know anybody in the immediate vicinity. His eyes loitered for a moment upon the majestic, black creatures pulling the Hogwarts carriages. Their leathery skin was pulled taut over sinewy muscle tissue and bones. As Draco passed each of them, they all had a glean in their eye that conveyed some sort of pity (or compassion?) as well as an omniscience that he couldn't quite place.
Thestrals really are so grotesquely beautiful, Draco thought. A voice in the back of his head immediately came up to chastise him for taking an interest in as frivolous a subject as magical creatures, but he shook his head to rattle the chastisement away.
If only he hadn't gotten so hopelessly behind in Care of Magical Creatures, perhaps he could have done his senior project on thestrals.
Thanks a lot, Dad, he mused, but immediately felt a wave of guilt sucker punch him in the gut as he remembered his father. His father, who was likely curled up and cold in a dark cell in Azkaban. Draco wondered if he felt lonely and hopeless and afraid. Some part of him hoped that he did—that he was cowering and suffering and had infinite time to sit with what he had done. Not like the bastard didn't deserve it.
Just as he was starting to feel a bit sorry for himself, another thought occurred to him. How many young students could see the thestrals now because of him? Directly due to his actions?
The thought made Draco's breath hitch a bit in his throat and he felt a modicum of that same lurching feeling from the train in his stomach.
"Well, we've gotta stop meeting like this," came a feminine voice behind him, nearly making Draco leap out of his skin. It was Granger again, grinning slightly and trailed by two boys who were carrying luggage and looking rather forlorn.
Draco, no longer lost in thought, looked ahead of him and realized that there was only one carriage left with a thestral to pull it. Great.
He gave the Granger girl a tight smile, suddenly feeling like a massive arsehole. She, of all people, had every right to hate him. He was an absolute wanker towards her all throughout their school years, spouting off just about every slur he could parrot from his father in her direction. Yet, here she was—constantly extending an olive branch.
"Heh, I guess so," he chuckled rather pathetically, feeling obligated to at least contribute something verbally.
The group clambered into the back of the carriage in the same orientation that they had been in through the train ride, Harry silently taking a place next to Draco. Draco noticed that Harry seemed similarly lost and distracted around the thestrals, his eyes glazing over and his lips almost pressing into a slight smile as he watched the careful movements of the creature's back.
The carriage immediately set in motion towards Hogwarts, jostling the group of them about slightly as the movement started.
"So, Malfoy..." Granger started with a gentle smile. Draco tensed up, completely unprepared to engage in amicable small talk, especially after the total lack of notice that they had displayed towards him on the train. "Will you be in Arithmancy with me this year? I saw a copy of Advanced Arithmancy Studies on the side of your trunk."
Draco let out a small sigh of relief, glad that this was at least a conversation topic that he could somewhat effortlessly contribute to. "Yes, I will be."
"Looking forward to another year of Professor Vector's absolutely brutal problem sets," she said, giving another grin. "I mean, seriously, I easily got an Outstanding on the Arithmancy O.W.L. and some of those Fourier analyses and Lagrangian questions from sixth year made me want to rip my hair out."
Draco chuckled a bit in response—a genuine chuckle, he realized. "I remember most of the Lagrange multiplier stuff pretty well, but God—I've completely moved the Fourier transform methods out of memory. I wanted so badly to get a solid comprehension of the instant power a spell takes in relation to its total potentiation arc but that was right around the time—"
He cut himself off. God, why did everything have to be tainted like this?
Granger leaned forward again, seeming to clock exactly what was going on inside his head although Draco was nearly certain that he hadn't let it escape verbally. "Yeah, same here...I guess we'll just have to help each other work through the gaps there."
Draco gave a quick and embarrassed nod, looking out towards the shape of trees moving past them in the dim light of nightfall. A small lantern had been placed in the center of each carriage, though it did little to illuminate much more than the others' faces as evening faded into night.
He noticed that Potter and Weasley exchanged brief uncomfortable glances as the group fell into another relative silence.
When the carriage began pulling up to the main gates, a cluster of professors were huddled around taking attendance. Professors Sinistra, Vector, Rowle, Babbling, and a couple others who Draco didn't recognize gave the group a small smile as they lifted their trunks from the carriage and began the short walk back to the castle doors.
The transformation that Hogwarts had undergone in the past few months was nothing short of amazing. Draco seemed to remember bits of walls and ceiling collapsed in on themselves, now standing prompt and erect to greet the incoming student body.
These bridges and halls had once completely collapsed, now restored to what he assumed was as close to a replication as possible to their former glory. As they strolled past the section where Care of Magical Creatures classes had taken place, Draco imagined being kicked across the chest by Buckbeak the Hippogriff—and couldn't help but to grin a bit at his own self-righteous idiocy.
They made their way to the place that Neville Longbottom, the quivering mess of a boy that Draco had picked on relentlessly for years, had courageously and single-handed stood against a swarm of Death Eaters (some of whom had been responsible for the torture of his parents into insanity) and used the Sword of Gryffindor to slice the head off of Nagini. Draco shuddered.
Making their way across the old Courtyard, Draco had a rush of memories flooding back—Trelawney, cowering under the tyrannical gaze of Umbridge until Professor McGonagall stepped in to prevent her being removed from the premises—Nymphadora Tonks, a long lost cousin of Draco's whom he had never met but always held a begrudging respect for, fighting tooth and nail against several Death Eaters at once—and finally, himself, reacting in a split second as the formerly lifeless form of Harry Potter leapt from Hagrid's arms to toss him his wand in an act of courage and indignation that he wasn't even aware that he had possessed.
The rest of the older students seemed to be lost in a similar dissociative fugue as they wandered about the grounds to the entrance of the Grand Hall, and Draco was grateful that the idle chit chat had ceased—at least for the moment.
What they saw there wasn't what was expected. The room that had once been decorated with hundreds of floating candles and several floating tapestries in varied bright colors (Scarlet, Emerald, Gold, and Sapphire, of course) was now equanimous in its decoration. Where distinctive corners of the room had once been laid out by color, there was now only cozy and comforting decoration in neutral colors. Where four long tables had once been arranged vertically from the entrance of the Hall, there were now two columns of eight tables arranged horizontally.
Students jostled amongst each other as they attempted to flood into the hall, older students clearly baffled by the sudden re-arrangement and younger students equally as baffled with their lack of know-how.
Before Draco knew it, he had a paper class schedule being shoved into his hands by Professor Sprout and was being told to "just take a seat anywhere" for now. Feeling as though he were walking through molasses, he numbly took a seat next to the other three students he had entered the Hall with.
Potter and Weasley looked equally as perplexed, grabbing the last of the seats near the entrance and looking around in bewilderment. Granger, he noticed, had more of a poised expression on her face—as if she'd been forewarned and was gracefully aware of the alteration in layout.
As students continued to shift around into their seats, they were interrupted by Professor—no, Headmistress—McGonagall clearing her throat.
"Good evening, students and professors," she started in a clear and confident tone, "It is my honor to welcome you back to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hope that you all had a chance to reflect and recharge after the summer months—"
Yeah, bloody right, Draco thought bitterly, reflecting on all of the long hours of having his mind penetrated by Ministry Aurors to collect evidence and having the veins around his Dark Mark poked at by Healers at St. Mungo's.
"It's wonderful to see so many familiar faces and wonderful to see so many new, eager faces as well. Those who know me well may know that I don't typically thrive under circumstances of shying away from difficult subjects—"
A few Gryffindors chuckled.
"I want to start by acknowledging the nearly insurmountable challenges that we all faced last year. And by that I do mean all of us—whether we were being forced into situations that necessitated actions we may deeply regret—"
Was she making eye contact with him? Draco felt like she was making eye contact with him.
"Grappling with realities of combat amongst both allies and supposed enemies, or just navigating personal and collective struggles through systemic change, we've all been tested in many ways. I'm certain that there were moments when you all felt divided, when disagreements and misunderstandings pulled us apart. I want to emphasize that today, we stand at a new starting point."
The Headmistress took a breath and continued, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over the room.
"This year, I want us to focus on one word: unity. Hogwarts is a community—a community with differences, sure, but those differences do not define us. We are defined by how we lift one another up when we fall down, how we treat each other, and how we come together during times of hardship.
As we move forward into this school year, I ask only that we make a collective commitment: a commitment to keeping an open heart and mind, a commitment to display understanding even when it's difficult, and a commitment to seek compassionate solutions over personal triumph. Let us all remember that the challenges we face, no matter their size, are easier to overcome when we face them together.
For this reason and others, we have decided to do away with the House system entirely this year and to focus on strengthening our community—"
Murmurs broke out amongst the Hall, but were quickly silenced as Headmistress McGonagall continued her speech.
"As you may have noticed, we have discarded the collective House dining situation. We have also done away with collective housing—all students will be alternatively sharing a dorm with the other students in their year.
As a reminder, the strength of our community comes from each and every one of you—and together we are capable of truly extraordinary things. In the coming months, you will all have opportunities to work together on coursework projects, to engage in challenging yet important conversations, and to create experiences that will craft who you are and your place in this world.
I'm confident that with your ideas, your perspective, and your dedication, we will make this year a time of flourishment, connection, and achievement."
The headmistress paused for a moment again, but this time there was no interruption.
"My predecessor once said that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it. Well, I believe that help will always be given at Hogwarts, whether you ask for it or not. My only hope is that this year, you're all able to discover more about each other this year, as well as discover more about yourselves. Let the feast commence!"
With that, a plethora of food began to spread itself out on the table—goblets filled with butterbeer and pumpkin juice as roasted carrots and buttered peas and roasted chicken and boiled potatoes began to appear on serving trays.
There was a brief moment of prolonged quiet before the new Headmistress sat back down and tables began chatting eagerly amongst themselves.
Do away with the house system—what is she, bloody mad?
Does that mean we won't have House Points anymore?
What does she mean about the dorms?
I dunno, but I sure as hell don't want to be sleeping next to a Slytherin.
"Way to give us a heads up, Hermione," Ron said sarcastically, glaring at the brown-haired witch across from him.
Oh shit. Of course. Draco thought, suddenly remembering that Granger was a Prefect this year. Of course she knew about this ahead of time. No wonder she was so eager to be friendly on the carriage ride over—just trying to score points with her old Head of House for befriending a disgraced former Death Eater, no doubt.
Hermione simply rolled her eyes. "I haven't known for very long. And honestly, I think this is a great thing. There's no need to be divided amongst ourselves at a time when what we really need to do is band together and heal from what we've been through."
Weasley rolled his eyes next. "Whatever. It's not like this will really change anything. Five galleons says all the Gryffindors and Slytherins are still sleeping on opposite sides of whatever the dorm situation looks like tonight."
Unbeknownst to himself, Draco audibly chuckled to himself, unintentionally drawing stares from the other three students near him. He had been recalling what someone in the vicinity had said directly after McGonagall's speech—I sure as hell don't want to be sleeping next to a Slytherin.
"According to McGonagall, I may not be a Slytherin anymore," Draco stated, his voice reminiscent of the drawl that it used to take on in his first years at Hogwarts, "but I don't think anybody wants to sleep next to someone with a Dark Mark burned into their flesh either way."
He was a bit surprised that he said it out loud, and he could tell that the rest of the group was as well. Despite this, Harry and Ron began loading their plates up with meat and potatoes and vegetables of various kinds. Draco, on the other hand, grabbed a meager handful of peas and a single boiled potato and began to push them around his plate, starting to regret saying anything.
The group fell into a somewhat uncomfortable silence until Ron looked down towards Draco's class schedule and said, "Blood hell! You're taking TEN courses this year? That's more than Hermione."
Draco looked up and chuckled, feeling able to muster his usual sneer into place. "Rumor has it that your brother took twelve, Weasley. You know, the scrawny one who defected to the Ministry—is that true?"
He knew that this was a bit mean, especially given what he had overheard about that particular Weasley brother's sense of shame on the train ride over, but he couldn't help it. It all came out at once, like word vomit.
Draco pushed the scraps of food around his plate once more, wondering if it would feel any better if he were to actually vomit.
The Weasel seemed to shake off his shock rather quickly. "Yeah, it is. He always was a bit of ponce. Liked his pomp and circumstance, I guess." He shrugged. "Was bloody good at school, though, I'll give him that much."
"I haven't any idea how he did that," chimed Ginny Weasley, clearly eavesdropping from a few seats away. "You'd think that his concern for his darling little sister being consumed by the Chamber of Secrets would've taken his thoughts away from his studies, but I guess I know where I stand." She laughed, the sound like tinkling bells, and it seemed to rattle through the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff girls that were surrounding her.
Potter's demeanor markedly changed at her intrusion, his ears flushing red and his eyes suddenly shifting downward towards his lap, his once voracious chewing on a piece of chicken slowing to a determined grind-and-swallow motion.
"That's wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, beaming at Draco and clearly determined to change the subject. "I'd bet we have a lot of classes together this year. Let's compare."
She thrusted her printed schedule to the front of the table and grabbed Draco's as well to get a side-by-side comparison. She was correct, as usual—they did have a lot of classes together. Transfigurations, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Arithmancy, Herbology, Potions, Astronomy, Charms, and Ancient Runes.
Draco couldn't help the part of his gut that dropped within his insides. He was so used to being punished—sometimes rather violently, for failing to meet the standards set by the muggleborn witch. Having so many classes with the capability of Hermione claiming top grades would have typically sent him into a self-preservatory tailspin, but he found himself now acknowledging a part of him that was glad that she would be there.
They weren't quite friends, he was sure of it, but it was at least a familiar face that would be civil and courteous and likely a damn good study partner.
There were a few classes that Potter and Weasley shared with them as well—Transfigurations, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Potions, and Charms, which made sense given that there were only so many eighth year students and therefore only one class period for their year. Draco felt a quick burst of pain through his chest at that realization. He rubbed at it quickly before returning his attention to the table in front of him.
He knew it was important that he eat something, but it took all that was in him to nibble on the edge of some green beans and gulp down his goblet of pumpkin juice.
At least he didn't need to return to the Slytherin dormitories in the Dungeons tonight, and that was something.