Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Draco pulled open his left eye and glared at his wand. He had set his wand to go off at 5:00 AM. (Which was earlier than the usual 6:00 AM). He groaned and thought silently to himself.
It’s Saturday…I don’t want to get up…five more minutes...
But just before he was ready to shut his eye, Malfoy saw the words “Hermione Granger” flash brightly above his bed. This caused Draco to shoot up immediately; then, as if watching a video, he remembered what had happened at the library yesterday. Malfoy sighed loudly and threw his blanket off. There’s no way he could go back to sleep now. He looked around the room. Crabbe was snoring peacefully on his bed while Goyle was drooling onto his pillow.
Dimwit must be dreaming about food again, Malfoy thought.
He reached out his arm and snatched his wand out of the air and gripped it tightly as if strangling it for reminding him that a Mudblood had saved his life. And not just any Mudblood, but the filthy, annoying, loathsome sidekick of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger. Lucius Malfoy had always taught his son that if he should ever be stupid enough to need someone to save his life, he would owe his life to his savior. Malfoy thought hard about this for a while.
Father has always been right about everything, but maybe this is an exception.
He fumbled through his drawers and pulled out a fresh set of clothes and headed off to the Prefects’ bathroom.
Yes, he must be wrong about this situation. I mean, how could I possibly even want to thank that Mudblood for saving me or for anything else for that matter. She’s absolutely repulsing! Plus, it’s not like I asked her to.
He stopped in front of the portrait and said “Rubber Ducky.” The portrait immediately swung open. “Absolutely disgusting,” Malfoy muttered to himself, referring to the fact that the password was Muggle originated. When he stepped inside he was surprised to see robes already hanging on the wall and water running in one of the little rooms.
Who else is up this early?
Malfoy’s question was answered when he saw a pair of round glasses sitting neatly on the marble counter next to the robes.
Potter? What’s he doing here at this hour? In fact, what the hell is he doing here, period! He’s not a prefect or head boy. Weasley must have told him the password-defeats the damn purpose of it!
Draco walked over to the robes rack and started to strip down to his fluffy blue bunny boxers. While he hung up his robes, he accidentally knocked something out of Harry’s left pocket. Draco knelt down and saw a pink envelope with the name “Gin” on it. He was about to reach down and pick it up when a deep voice came from behind him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Draco’s head spun around as he jumped from surprise. He looked at Harry, whose hair was flat for once due to the weight of the water dripping off of it. “What do you think I’m doing? Dancing in the bathroom?” Draco replied sarcastically, and stood up tall. He had a finely built body, but wasn’t as tall as Harry. Harry ignored Draco’s comment and looked down on the floor where Draco was. He felt himself go red. Draco grinned maliciously. “Love letter from Weasley, Potter?” He bent down and picked up the envelope, waving it tauntingly at Harry.
“Give it back Malfoy,” Harry threatened out of his clenched teeth.
“No, no. I don’t think so, Potter. Come and get it if you want…” But Draco never finished that sentence because Harry was already on top of him wrestling the letter out of his grip. It wasn’t long before Harry stood up victoriously with the envelope tucked safely in his robes. There was no way Malfoy stood a chance against Harry, he was simply too small. Harry was reaching six feet (Ron was six feet, three inches), but Malfoy was only five feet, nine inches at the most.
Satisfied, Harry grabbed his dirty robes and glasses and headed out of the bathroom. Malfoy remained on the ground for a while. His whole body ached.
Damn it. Potter needs to lose some weight. He smiled to himself for his clever thought. Then he got up and headed into a shower stall.
Harry climbed lazily through the portrait hole. He looked up at the clock above the fireplace. It read FIVE THIRTY IN THE MORNING. Then it had a bird flying around with a worm between its tiny beak. Today was Saturday, no one was going to be up for another three hours. He sighed and headed for the dormitories, but something shuffled on the couch and startled him. He fumbled around in his robes only to realize that he had forgotten his wand at the hospital wing. But then a little red head popped around the chair and he relaxed.
“Ginny! What are you doing here?” Harry mused aloud.
“Madam Pomfrey told me you’d be free to go this morning! I didn’t know she meant this early!”
Harry grinned. “Actually, I snuck out so I could wash all those stag hairs off. They were tickling me.” Ginny giggled and got out of the chair. She walked over to Harry and gave him a warm welcome back hug.
“I like how you smell of soap and fruity shampoo,” she commented.
“Well, I did just take a shower,” Harry responded playfully. She smiled.
“Wanna go get breakfast since we’re already up anyway?”
Harry nodded happily, this would be the first time since three meals that he’s going to have human food. “Oh, and, um, I probably should go back to the hospital wing afterwards and pretend I never got out of bed. Plus, I left my wand there.” Ginny agreed and they headed off to have breakfast.
Hermione opened her baby brown eyes to a bright Saturday morning.
Hmm…what time is it?
She flipped around and looked at her clock. Six AM. She turned her head back onto her pillow and lay still on her bed. A feeling of angst was slowly spreading through her body. She focused on the feeling trying to remember what put it there. Then she recalled the conversation with Ron last night. She sighed loudly.
Just when I thought this year would be danger free. Why do these things keep happening to us? Thanks to Voldemort, Ron, Harry, and myself have been in near death experiences at least once every year since Hogwarts began. And last year, he was supposed to have been defeated.
She sighed again then got out of her warm, soft bed and went downstairs. Nobody was in the common room yet. It was a cold December morning. Finals are just starting to creep into the students minds, but Hermione had already started studying. (And was just planning on making Harry and Ron start too.) Being number one and Head Girl of Hogwarts was something she was very proud of, and planned on continuing. This year she devised a better schedule for Harry and Ron that would allow them more free time; of course it required them to wake up earlier than everyone one else (on the planet), but if they wanted to play during the day, it was the only way. She climbed out of the portrait hole and headed for the Great Hall. Much to her surprise, she bumped into Ginny and Harry who said that they had just finished breakfast and were going back to the hospital wing. Her part of the conversation consisted of a good morning, a nod, and a good bye, then they went their separate ways. She always knew Harry and Ginny liked each other. It didn’t seem obvious when Ginny had that cute but oh so annoying crush on Harry when she was ten, but now the tension between them was so obvious that a blind person would be able to tell. Hermione finally reached the Great Hall and opened the door to find an unpleasant surprise. There was only one table set out for students because it was so early in the morning (not to mention a Saturday) and there was only one person presently occupying the table.
Maybe this is why Harry and Ginny rushed off so fast. Hermione thought to herself. I was wondering why they didn’t just stay and here and enjoy their privacy.
Hermione thought of turning and leaving, but then the cold, emotionless gray eyes that belonged to the boy sitting at the table caught her own.
Draco went to the Great Hall after his shower for a little breakfast, and then planned on heading to the Quidditch field to practice for the match against Ravenclaw next week. Though what he didn’t plan on was having to sit with Potty and his girlfriend through half of breakfast. He almost lost his appetite watching them flirt badly. All they did was give each other funny looks then break out laughing.
Honestly! I’ve never seen such inept people when it comes to flirting.
Draco felt he could sweep any girl off her feet as long as if he tried. It was probably true. He wasn’t hideous, but he was tall, well built, and very smart, but he preferred to keep that mum so his bad boy reputation wouldn’t be ruined. He treated his friends well and was unfalteringly loyal to those he loved (which didn’t include many people, but that’s what made it all the more special). Draco was much relieved when Harry and Ginny finally left. He hadn’t touched his plate while they were there, and now he could finally eat in peace. That is…pick up his fork in peace, because two minutes after Harry and Ginny walked out, someone else came in. The person who came in made Draco wish he were still observing Potter and Weasley. He looked up coldly and glared into the eyes of Hermione Granger. He thought he saw her shiver at his glare.
Good. She should be afraid of me.
He kept his eyes locked on hers for at least three minutes. There was definitely hatred in the air.
“You gonna stand there all day, Mudblood?” He drawled. Then he looked back down at his plate.
Okay. Now I’ve really lost my appetite.
Draco threw down his fork so that it clattered loudly with his plate and echoed through the hall. Then he got up out of his chair and walked towards the door so that he was half a foot away from Hermione’s face.
“There. I’ve lost my appetite. Happy now? You can go eat.” Draco finished with a nasty tone and walked around Hermione and left the room.
Hermione stood in the doorway feeling angry and disgusted for a few more minutes after Draco had left. He was so close to her she felt his breath as he talked. The touch of his words on her skin sent goosebumps up and down her spine.
Sheesh. That boy has got to be the most unpleasant man on earth. I should be mad at him, not the other way around, that arrogant, insufferable git. He should be on his knees thanking me for saving his life. Hermione smiled to herself when she pictured Draco Malfoy at her feet. Ahhh. One can dream.
She walked to the newly empty table, sat down, and ate her breakfast silently.
Saturday passed by much like the rest of December; not much happened, but the days still flew by before they knew it. The finals came and went; Hermione got top marks, as always, and Ron and Harry got just enough to avoid being called The Village Idiots. No word of Voldemort had been mentioned since the disappearance of the Ministry workers, and with such limited information there wasn’t much the trio could do. Winter break was finally here. Ron and Ginny were going to Romania to visit Charlie and meet up with Bill; a good family reunion was much needed, with their father missing and all. Harry and Hermione were asked to go, but they decided to stay at school; they felt it would be awkward if they tagged along during such a difficult time for the Weasley family. What made the matter worse was that Percy refused to talk to them, and stuck with the Ministry on everything they said. As if the last time Voldemort came back wasn’t enough proof that Dumbledore and Harry should be trusted, the Ministry once again labeled everyone who sided with Dumbledore a “traitor” and “liar”. Despite the Ministry’s attempt to discredit Dumbledore and his word, the wizarding community learned from the past and ignored the Daily Prophet’s lies. If one word could describe the magical world right now, it would most definitely be “chaos”. People who believed Voldemort was back had no idea what to do and how to protect themselves. The only thing they knew to do for sure was to stay away from the Death Eaters that were exposed two years ago. This, of course, included the Malfoy family. Draco Malfoy wasn’t much affected by what was going on outside of Hogwarts because no one dared to confront him about where his family’s loyalty laid. Draco was going home for winter; he always loved winter vacation, but little did he know that this one was going to be different from the rest, and this little innocent trip home was going to forever change him.
“MUM!” Draco ran through the Malfoy manor, dropping all his bags at the foot of the door. “Mum! I’m home!” Draco ran upstairs and headed towards Narcissa’s bedroom. Before he had the chance to knock, he heard shouting come from inside.
“…he’s too young Lucius!” Draco heard his mother cry.
“The Dark Lord wants him NOW! I don’t care if he’s not out of Hogwarts yet, he’s good and capable how he is!” Lucius’s voice was cold, as it often was when he was arguing with his wife about his son.
“If Dumbledore finds out…think of the danger it will put Draco in! Think of the danger it will put all of us in! Please, Lucius! Be reasonable!”
“Dumbledore? You’re worried about Dumbledore? That old imbecile can’t do a thing to us! He wouldn’t do a thing! He’s always known about us, and he’s done nothing! There’s no reason to fear that man! Narcissa, think about this. If Draco joins us now he could very well become one of the Dark Lord’s most prestigious followers! He could make us prouder than we can ever imagine. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want Draco to be the Dark Lord’s most loyal man?”
“Of course I want the best for Draco, Lucius. But you’re not thinking clearly! He’s only a boy. The things the Dark Lord requires already gets full grown wizards killed, what makes you think Draco will even live through the first mission?”
“You underestimate our boy Narcissa! You always have! And allowing you to keep him at Hogwarts and not go to Durmstrang was one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made. I have made my decision and it is final! You WILL obey!”
“NO LUCIUS! I do everything you tell me to, but when it comes to our son, I can’t let you…look at what happened to Willem! He died because of your obsession with the Dark Lord! He was only five Lucius! He was ONLY FIVE! Draco never even knew his brother. And that was your fault Lucius! THAT WAS YOUR FAULT! I’m not losing another son because of this. I can’t let you…” But Draco never found out what his mother wouldn’t let Lucius do, because at that moment he heard a loud smack and then heard something heavy drop cold onto the floor. Draco panicked and shoved open the oak door. His eyes widened at the sight. His father was standing over his mother with his wand out, and his mother was lying defenseless and motionless on the floor. Draco saw a pool of blood next to his mother’s head where she must have hit the edge of the table. Draco ran forward as fast as he could.
“MUM! MUM!” He dropped down next to his mother’s lifeless body. “Mother! Are you alright? Wake up mom, wake up!!” Warm tears streamed continually down his face. He held his mother protectively in his lap, drenching his robes with her blood. He cradled her for a few moments then looked icily up at his father. “YOU BASTARD! You killed my mother!” Draco stood up in his spot and drew his wand. He and his father were now face to face, each armed and ready to fight.
“You don’t know what you’re doing Draco. She was in the way. Anyone in the way of the Dark Lord needs to be removed. Remember that Draco. If someone won’t get out of your way, you have to eliminate them yourself. The death of your mother is tragic, but trust me son, it was for the greater good.” Not half a second after Lucius had finished talking, Draco screamed out of rage and agony and petrified his father on the spot. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in his trembling, bloodied hands, unable to stop himself from crying.
Draco woke up the next day sprawled on the floor of his mother’s room. The events of last night quickly returned to haunt him. He sat up and looked at his stunned father and his dead mother. He wanted to kill his father right then and there, but he couldn’t. Draco had never truly hurt or killed anyone in his whole life. He was always all talk and no walk to back it up; he had Crabbe and Goyle to do all his dirty work, which even then only consisted of beating kids up. He got up slowly and walked over to his mother. He bent down and gently pushed her golden blonde hair out of her face. He kissed her on the forehead and held back his tears.
Come on, Draco. Don’t cry. Don’t be such a baby. You’re stronger than this.
He stood back up, took off his outer robe, and covered his mother with it. Then he turned around and left the room, determined that from that moment forward he would no longer be a Malfoy.
Draco rummaged through his closet and pulled out some fresh, clean, black robes and threw them all into his Duffel Unlimited, along with his private stash of Galleons. The Duffel Unlimited could carry literally everything and still weigh its original 5 pounds. It was also waterproof, fire proof, hex proof, and rip proof. Being a Malfoy, it was normal for Draco to have these state of the art gadgets. After he finished gathering all his necessities, Draco took his Firebolt 2004 and flew away from the Malfoy manor for the last time in his life.
Draco made a pit stop at Diagon Alley so he could empty his Gringotts account. One thing Draco liked about goblins was that they never asked questions. When they led him to his vault, Draco was shocked at what he saw. He always knew that his parents kept an account just for him, but he never expected there to be so much money. It also seemed that once his mother died he automatically received the money that was left to him in her will. Draco stuttered for a second then asked his attendant, “How…How much is there?”
The goblin grunted and pulled out a sheet of official looking parchment, “It says that there was a total of 48 million Galleons, but yesterday it seems a magical will was activated by that of Narcissa Black Malfoy and you received another 100 million Galleons, totaling to 148 million Galleons in your account Master Malfoy.”
Draco cringed at being called a Malfoy. He’d have to change his identity and create a new account because there was no way he was going to carry around 148 million Galleons, even if his Duffel Unlimited could.
It took most of the afternoon, but Draco finally got everything settled and now he had his account separated from his father’s. He had decided that his last name would now be Passus. He wasn’t sure how he came up with that, but he liked it.
Draco Passus. Hey, if the Dark Lord can change his name, so can I. Draco smiled for the first time since he left Hogwarts.
Hermione and Harry were outside by the lake enjoying the snow and watching the Giant Squid when they saw him. Hermione saw a man walking towards them. At first there was only a black smudge in the white background, but as he came closer, she recognized the platinum blond hair and the gray blue eyes that belonged to none other than Draco Malfoy. Her heart dropped.
Great. What is Malfoy doing here? Shouldn’t he be home being spoiled?
Hermione watched as Draco slowly made his way towards them in the thick snow, but to her surprise, he didn’t say anything when he passed them; in fact, he didn’t even seem to notice them. A big black bag clung to his back with a single strap that stretched from his right shoulder to the bottom left of his waist. In his left hand he held his Firebolt, and on his face…she couldn’t put her finger on what was different about him, but whatever it was, it was written in code on his face. Harry was also watching, but unlike Hermione, he was determined to see what Malfoy was up to.
“Hey Malfoy!” Harry shouted.
Draco stopped in his tracks. It seemed to take him three seconds to process the fact that someone was calling him, and then he turned around. He looked at Harry with no particular expression, and sighed before he replied, ”Passus.”
“What?!” Harry retorted, thinking Draco was cursing him in some unknown language.
“Passus. I’m not Malfoy. My name is Passus.” Draco said patiently.
Harry stared at him in awe. Then he cracked up and fell onto the ground laughing. Between his howling he told Hermione, “HE’SahahahhaGonehahahahhaComhahahahahCompletelyhahahhaInsane!”
Hermione giggled and gave Malfoy, or Passus, a confused look. Draco looked right back at her, as he had done many times before, but this time, she felt different. Hermione couldn’t explain it, but the look Draco gave her made her a little weak, as if he were seeing right through her. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyebrows.
“So…Passus…” Hermione paused to keep herself from laughing. “What are you doing here?”
Draco shifted uncomfortably in the freezing snow. It was true that he had decided to go against everything his father had taught him, which included hating Mudbloods, but being nice to Hermione was much harder than he imagined it to be. After six years of rivalry it was impossible for Draco to just wake up and look at Potter, Weasley, and Granger in a new light. He chose his words carefully when he spoke, “It’s none of your business…Granger.” He gave his bag a little pull so he could stand up taller. When Hermione didn’t reply, he took the silence as his cue to go. He returned to his path towards the school, leaving Hermione and Harry staring at him in confusion.
“So what do you think is up with him?” Harry asked once Draco disappeared through the door.
“I don’t know. But he seems…different.” Harry recognized the thoughtful tone in Hermione’s voice as the one she got when she was dreaming big (S.P.E.W. for example), and it scared him.
“Different? Yeah, he’s definitely different. He’s probably the newest patient at St. Mungo’s right now!” Harry returned to his laughing, and this time Hermione joined in.
Draco plopped down on his leather chair in the deserted Slytherin common room. He let out a long exasperated sigh. He hadn’t really thought about how hard it would be to reform himself, especially in the presence of his enemies. And despite how much he wanted to leave his former self in the past, he couldn’t. When he saw Harry and Hermione today, it seemed that his desire to change just disappeared; he suddenly felt that it was okay to continue his air of superiority over them, but now that they were out of his sight…he wasn’t sure how he felt. Draco let out a cry of frustration and forcefully brought his fists to his face, then started rubbing his face as if he were washing it. He stopped rubbing when his pale face turned red. Draco got out of his chair and looked around the cold, green room. Not many Slytherins chose to stay behind during breaks; only one first year and two third years remained, so Draco basically had the tower all to himself. He wanted to go somewhere though, and not knowing where exactly he was headed, Draco crawled out of the Slytherin portrait hole.
Harry and Hermione played in the snow until the last ray of warm golden sunlight left the Hogwarts grounds. They had built a snowman dressed up as Dumbledore. They put a wizard’s hat on the head and used two good sized marbles for the eyes. Then they use a twig to draw in the glasses and stuck the twig into the face for the nose when they were done. Hermione shrank the twig magically so that the Dumbledore snowman didn’t end up looking like Pinocchio. Then they wrapped a cloak around him and stood back to admire their work. They were probably the only two people who would be able to tell that the snowman was supposed to be Dumbledore, but that was okay.
Once they stepped into the castle they let the warm air wash comfortably over them. They went back to the Gryffindor tower to change into dry clothes and then decided to go eat. It was Christmas eve, and as always, decorations were being put up in the Great Hall for the big feast the next day. After dinner, Hermione decided to stay behind and help with the decorations while Harry was performing his weekly broom maintenance. She was hooking on a magical ornament with a fairy trapped inside when Draco strolled into the Great Hall. It was ten minutes before dinner time ended, and Draco made full use of those ten minutes. Hermione watched half in awe and half in disgust. Draco ate like he hadn’t eaten in a week and barely finished when the food disappeared. He suddenly looked up and caught Hermione staring at him. He wiped off his mouth and headed towards her. Hermione stood completely still, unknowing of what she should do.
“What are you doing here Granger? You’re not stalking me are you?” Draco sneered, but not a second after, he scolded himself for looking down on her again.
Hermione scoffed at the idea, “Why would I want to stalk a pig like you? Honestly, I’d rather watch Crabbe and Goyle dance a recital than waste my time spying on you.”
To Hermione’s great surprise, Draco smiled. What was even weirder was that this was a smile she had never seen, it wasn’t evil or scheming, but instead, it was rather genuine. It made her kind of dizzy, especially if she looked into his cool gray eyes.
“You’d be surprised how graceful those two are despite their size,” Draco replied. He let himself get lost in the thought before he refocused his eyes on Hermione. “You know, we don’t always have to fight. I’d like it if we didn’t fight so much. At first, it was entertaining, but now it’s getting repetitive and boring, and you’re always getting the last word, and I don’t like that, but…” Draco paused. He just realized that he was rambling. This was probably the first time in his life that he spoke long enough about nice things to ramble. He refocused his thoughts and decided to get straight to the point, “…but the thing is, I’ll try and not be such an ass if you do too.”
Hermione stared at Draco with her mouth open. She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Maybe she was dreaming...she bit her lip hard and yelped right after. Draco jumped back and looked at her as if she suddenly sprouted an extra head. Hermione decided to speak before she lost the chance, “Why are you doing this Malfoy?””“It’s Passus””“Okay, “Passus”, why are you doing this? What are you trying to get at? Because if you think this act is going to work on us, it’s not. And stop being so nice, it’s kind of eerie.” Unlike Draco, Hermione had no reason to start accepting her enemy, and she didn’t plan to anytime soon either. Draco expected a reaction somewhat like that, so he didn’t look too bummed.
“Look Hermione, this isn’t an act. I honestly want to change, and keeping you guys as enemies will make it very hard. I figured that since you think I’m “evil”, “obnoxious”, “repulsive”, “heartless” and many other flattering words, it’d be a good place to start.” Draco paused, waiting for Hermione’s answer.
Dammit. I hate being a good guy. Would she hurry up and say something? Draco suddenly realized that he actually cared about Hermione’s response, and he wanted her to accept him. He stuck his hands into his pockets to keep himself from grabbing her and shaking the answer out of her mouth. It seemed like a year before Hermione was able to clamp her mouth shut from the shock and start talking, but she did…and now…she was ready to tell Draco exactly what she thought of him…