Chapter Text
Eighth year got off to a pretty rocky start for Draco Malfoy. He hadn’t exactly wanted to return to Hogwarts once again, but the Ministry of Magic had given him two options; Hogwarts or Azkaban. So the choice was obvious.
Both of his parents had been put under house arrest, which was a slap on the wrist compared to the punishment that everyone else who sided with Voldemort got. But Lucius had given names and of course there was Harry Potter, who stood up in front of the entire Wizengamot and claimed that Draco was in fact just a child and had been forced into his actions. He also told them about how Draco had refused to identify him and how Narcissa Malfoy had saved his life.
Damn Potter. Always putting his nose where it didn’t belong. Draco would’ve been fine without his grand gestures of bravery and selflessness. It was tiresome. But for a reason that Draco totally refused to acknowledge, it seemed to make his heart throb every time he thought about Harry Potter.
The first few months after the war had been gruelling. The ministry had worked overtime to ensure the school was back up and running by September 1st, meaning Draco was on the Hogwarts Express at precisely 11am on Tuesday the 1st of September, tucked into his own compartment at the very back of the train, away from everyone.
Of course Pansy and Blaise had found him after less than ten minutes. He had to give it to them, their friendship didn’t waver a bit, despite Draco practically being a convicted felon. Slytherin loyalty would always prevail.
Pansy had chatted away as if they’d had the most normal summer of their lives and hadn’t lost half of the student body plus their favourite teacher in one of the most gruelling battles of the century. Draco had been a little grateful for the distraction, even though not talking about the war had been slightly like ignoring a bloody great hippogryph on a rampage in their tiny compartment on the Hogwarts Express.
When they’d arrived at school, the eighth year students had been asked to join their new headmistress, Professor McGonagall in the eighth year common room. The password was “unity”, which got a few giggles and scoffs, but Draco, much to Pansy and Blaise’s surprise, didn’t react. Probably because these days, Draco didn’t feel much of anything. It had been what felt like years since he had last laughed properly. He could rarely even manage a polite fake laugh at Pansy’s jokes anymore.
They’d gotten a lecture about starting fresh as role models for younger students and how it was the beginning of a new era, where everyone was accepted, no matter their blood purity or their past. McGonagall had most likely been talking about him when she’d said the last bit, since a few heads turned his way, but Draco’s eyes stayed fixed to where his feet shuffled on the floor. McGonagall had gone on to talk about house unity and bonding as well as a whole bunch of other topics to do with not being the giant fuckup Draco had been for basically his whole high school career. When he finally did look up, his eyes fell on three familiar faces. The Golden Trio as the papers had called them. Draco’s eyes lingered on Potter, he’d grown taller over the summer, he also looked more tanned and had definitely gained a little muscle. He looked good.
As if Potter read Draco’s mind, their eyes suddenly met and Potter was… smiling? Draco looked away quickly, blush forming on his cheeks. He wasn’t looking at you, you twat. What reason would The Chosen One have to smile at Draco Malfoy, Ex-Death Eater and school bully? Absolutely none.
McGonagall then went on to explain the new rules for the returning eighth year students. “Since there are so few of you, you’ll be sharing this common room and will not be returning to your individual house dormitories. Whilst we still encourage house pride and a little bit of friendly competition, this year is your opportunity to create friendships beyond the confines of your houses. As I mentioned, the younger students will be looking to you for guidance and it is your job to show them how important respect for others is.
“You will room with members of different houses this year. Each set of roommates has been randomly selected and there is to be no switching of rooms,” she peered sternly at the group over her glasses before continuing. “You may go to your new rooms immediately to freshen up or relax before the welcome feast.” She pulled a scroll from her robe and unrolled it with a flourish.
“Ladies first, in room one we have Hannah Abbott, Hermione Granger, Padma Patil and Pansy Parkinson.”
Draco heard Pansy scowl from next to him. Oh this ought to be good. Her and Granger would be ripping each other’s hair out in absolutely no time. Pansy would look terrible bald.
“In room two we have Millicent Bullstrode, Daphne Greengrass, Susan Bones and Parvati Patil.”
“How come Daph and Millie get to room together? They’re in the same house!” Pansy spat, with a disdainful glance to her two former roommates of seven years.
“Miss Parkinson, as I am sure you understand, numbers are few this year, meaning that some of you will in fact have to room with your previous housemates. However, I’m inclined to agree with the sentiment that you of all people should be rooming with those of other houses and backgrounds. Now ladies, you are free to go while I give the gentlemen their room assignments.”
Pansy stomped off towards the door that said Room 1 in a fancy flourishing font on the door, letting it slam behind her. Draco rolled his eyes at the drama his friend was capable of, but his attention was soon drawn back to McGonagall.
“Right, where were we? Ah yes, Room three: Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein, Theodore Nott and Ron Weasley. Room four will be Michael Corner, Wayne Hopkins, Dean Thomas. Room five Terry Boot, Seamus Finnigan, Ernie McMillan and Draco Malfoy.”
Draco was somewhere between relieved and disappointed. Relieved because he wouldn’t be rooming with Potter or Weasley and disappointed that in fact he would really not be rooming with Blaise or even Theo.
“Finally, in room six Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini. Right off you go gentlemen, I shall see you in the great hall in precisely half an hour. Thank you,” and she left the common room.
Jealousy surged through Draco like a wave. Blaise and Potter were sharing a room. Draco wouldn’t get to have late night gossip sessions or banter with his best friend anymore, and on top of that Blaise would get to see Potter in various states of undress!? The world was cruel sometimes.
After an extremely awkward conversation with one of his new roommates, Ernie McMillan, who was obviously trying his best to really take on McGonagall’s advice about new beginnings and friendships, Draco made his way to the dreaded Great Hall. If it had been anything like walking into his own bedroom just then with Finnigan’s steely eyes and Boot’s refusal to even acknowledge Draco, the welcome feast was going to be up there on Draco’s Top Ten Worst Moments.
He’d gone to bed that night feeling an even deeper loneliness than usual. It wasn’t even because Blaise wasn’t there for company because he knew himself well enough that even if his best friend had been there, he’d have shut the bed curtains well before lights out anyway. No, this loneliness was Draco’s realisation that it’d be very unlikely if he’d ever be able to truly be accepted and forgiven for what he’d done. He knew deep down that Pansy and Blaise had disagreed with his family’s participation in the war. He knew they were only hanging around him for the sake of ridiculous Slytherin loyalty. They didn’t love Draco. Even his own mother had barely been able to look at him once she and his father had been sentenced to two years house arrest. He’d spent the remainder of his summer locked up in his bedroom with nothing but books to keep him company, barely joining his parents for mealtimes.
Draco's final thought before sleep took him over was that this was probably going to be the second worst year at Hogwarts, right behind the gruelling hell that had been sixth year.