Draco pushed his trolley onto Platform 9 ¾. He was early, and was hoping to get a carriage on his own. Unsurprisingly “ although before this summer he had truly expected it “ he was not a prefect. He had been passed over in favor of Blaise Zabini. He knew, because Peter had given him snippets of information here and there. After two weeks of nagging and whining about Peter’s presence, Draco had been forced to see that his mother was immune to that form of blackmail when his father wasn’t around. Peter had been asked in every evening to dinner, and when Draco finally threw a tantrum (never known to have failed before) he was sent to his room, like a nine year old. The experience was galling, but his mother had a wand, and he didn’t.
Owl post had been extremely limited, with all mail examined beforehand, and he had not been able to contact Crabbe and Goyle. The first night, he had put his head out of the window in his room to check the air, and had seen Aurors everywhere. Just to make sure, he had opened his window slyly after dark, and pushed out a stuffed owl he had had for years. Sure enough, before it had fallen two feet, it was intercepted by a spell. After that, whenever he had been more than particularly bored, Draco had pushed a stuffed toy, or an item of clothing out of the window with a note attached, “Suckers!” being the most harmless. No copy of the Daily Prophet had been allowed into the house either, so he didn’t have a clue what was going on. He supposed in case the Dark Lord tried to insert a coded message or something. Like he was going to do that.
Draco was still confused at the end of summer. He had treated his mother with a sort of frozen politeness. He hadn’t really wanted to “ he would have given almost anything to have the sort of relationship with her that Ron Weasley had with his mother “ but after sixteen years of neglect, it was difficult to know how else to react. He also wasn’t entirely sure he had forgiven her, or even if he liked her that much. It pretty much made him feel guilty and hounded all summer, as she seemed to think they would suddenly develop the ideal mother/son relationship, which was hideously embarrassing to say the least. To be honest, Muggle or no Muggle, he preferred Peter’s company. Yes, Peter had turned out to be a fairly decent bloke in the end. He stood none of Draco’s nonsense, which Draco secretly admired, and managed to win arguments without resorting to bribery or force, as his father had. Neither did he ever give in to blackmail. After resenting this for a while, Draco found that it was something else about Peter that he admired.
Peter was patient, enduring Draco’s sullen fits cheerfully and not seeming to hold them against him. He was interesting, and when Draco eventually did begin to talk to him, always seemed to have time to spare to discuss all manner of things that Draco had never been able talk about with his father. His father told him what to think, and brooked no questioning.
In fact, it may have been one of the first times Draco had really been able to discuss anything properly. He didn’t have any friends. One could hardly discuss anything with Crabbe and Goyle, and Pansy, although a fairly satisfactory girlfriend, had known better than to contradict any of his views on life, love and the universe. In fact, Draco didn’t know if Pansy actually had any opinions “ he had certainly never let her express them if she had.
Talking to Peter was illuminating as well as frustrating. Peter had pointed out that he could well be called upon to kill somebody in cold blood “ perhaps even Hermione Granger “ as proof of fidelity to the Dark Lord. Draco truly despised the bushy haired girl, but the thought of actually killing someone he knew in cold blood turned him sick to his stomach “ not that he admitted that to Peter. It was the reason that he had advised Hermione to make herself scarce at the World Quidditch Cup. Some of the other pure-bloods with him in his group had been a bit annoyed “ it would have been better to inform the marching Death Eaters of her presence. Hermione was disliked not only because she was Muggle born, but also because she was such an insufferable know-it-all, and some of the other Slytherins would have been only to happy to have her swing upside down displaying her knickers in public.
Liking Peter so much was a surprise, and made Draco rethink some of his reactions to Muggles, and also to his father. He could see now that he was older, that he had blamed Lilah’s boyfriend unfairly for Lilah leaving home. After all, in other families, wizards married Muggles all the time, and their fathers didn’t beat them and throw them out. Overcoming years of bitter prejudice that had been imprinted in an eight year old brain was not easy though, and Draco had been indoctrinated from birth to believe in the superiority of pure blood.
However, if anybody at Hogwarts got to hear about Draco having a Muggle relation, even an illegitimate one, their lives were not going to be worth living. Draco had been too outspoken against Muggles in the past to suddenly own up to fraternizing with them over the summer. He could imagine the sneers. So although he talked to Peter often, he never did so in a friendly fashion, and lost no opportunity to poke fun at him, or give him a hard time.
The only sensation he had regarding his father was a curious relief at his absence, and a buried hate with regard to his attitude to Lilah, which Draco had guiltily hidden from himself for years. Now he could see that he had been frightened, and it did not make him feel brave or debonair. Other people went and fought Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic for people they believed in, and he hadn’t even stood up for his adopted sister. He knew that this was because he had been eight, and terrified of his father, but it did not make him feel good about himself. Between feeling guilty, miserable and inadequate, he had quite a horrible summer “ so nothing had really changed, except that it was horrible in a different way this time, and there was Peter to pick on and shout at when things got too bad. He picked on Peter a lot.
Going back to Hogwarts was taking all his courage. He couldn’t bear the thought of the gloating that would certainly be going on from the Gryffindor table. He threw his things onto the train on the second empty compartment, and put his bags into the rack. He had just settled himself with a book, when he saw the Patil sisters on the platform. He watched idly. Both girls, if anything, were more stunning than the year before “ and Draco had watched them both then. Every boy at Hogwarts watched the Patil sisters. They were, after all, the most attractive girls in the year. Padma was with a tall dark boy in a turban, and Parvati made a third wheel. Watching, Draco’s lip curled. He did not like Parvati. She had stuck up for the Gryffindor idiot the time the loser had crashed his broom and lost his Remembrall. Draco had never fathomed why Neville had been allowed to come to Hogwarts, since he was practically a Squib. Since then, Parvati had crossed Draco many times “ almost as many, in fact as Dumbledore’s Golden Three. She was almost as insufferable a know-it-all as Hermione, and was flaky besides, as was evinced by her addiction to Divination. Padma was more studious, her doe eyes softer, and her voice calmer, although she was equally flaky. However, Draco did notice the long hair in a black pigtail that snaked down Parvati’s back to her backside (a very trim backside actually, outlined very satisfactorily by the jeans), and the gold drops at her ears. She was wearing Muggle clothes, blue jeans and a green T-shirt that made her skin glow almost golden, (her nails were painted to match) while Padma wore a bright blue salwar kameez, embroidered all over with silver, and a darker blue scarf. Draco sneered unconsciously and then lost sight of her as she and Parvati boarded the train. They passed his compartment, and as Parvati saw him, she flared her nostrils, and turned away with a grimace. Padma didn’t even glance his way.
As the train filled up, Draco got his wish. Nobody joined him in his compartment. He stared at his book, but it didn’t stop him watching. Even Pansy Parkinson, gorgeous in pale blue walked past his compartment, head bowed, pale golden hair falling down her neck, only a sidelong glance betraying the fact that she had seen him. Her parents although they leaned to the Dark side were not Death Eaters. She had not owled him once since the start of the holidays, and that did grate. She was supposed to have been his girlfriend. From being distinctly pug faced when they had first started Hogwarts, she had grown into rather a beauty, with a tip tilted nose, and wide blue eyes. Draco wondered if he should go out and call to her, but he really couldn’t be bothered.
Harry Potter and Ron, he saw through the window as they joined the train further down. Harry looked as if he had grown up a lot during the summer, and Ron no longer looked carefree. His young face seemed sterner somehow. His pockets still bulged with sandwich packets though. Some things never change. Draco had decided to go hungry rather than ask for money, or take sandwiches. He watched as Mrs. Weasley hugged both Ron and Harry tightly. Ron looked awkward towering over his mother, but Harry gave her a huge hug. Draco wondered sarcastically for a minute if there had been a superglue accident. Perhaps Harry fancied Mrs. Weasley! Ginny was next to Harry. It looked like they might be an item, but then Ginny had always hung around Harry like that, looking like she might be his item. Draco tried to sneer, but he felt odd. Maybe it was loneliness. When he walked down the train later (more out of curiosity as he had not seen many people than because he needed anything) he noticed that all the compartments were full “ some of them to bursting. Yet his was empty. He walked back to it, passing the Weasel, Potter and the Mudblood on the way, all reunited in their sickening little saintly group of three (no intruders, please!). He made a face as he passed. Unsurprisingly the Potter leapt forward, face thunderous, and equally unsurprisingly, the others restrained him. Draco pretended not to notice, not sure what to do or say if he did. It wasn’t as easy to be snide when you knew that the people you were taunting had more than enough ammunition to come back at you, and you had no thugs to cover your back. He bet everybody had heard of his altered circumstances. Probably going around the train that Malfoy was as poor as a Warlock on Welfare. Also Ron was getting as big as a tram, and it looked to be all hard muscle. Probably all the manual labour he had to indulge in during the summers, fixing his tumbledown house. In fact, Crabbe and Goyle might have a hard time taking him now.
When he passed a car full of Slytherins, including Pansy, Draco slid the door open. Immediately there was silence, and he sensed they had been talking about him, which was disconcerting. He sneered, his eyelids lowered and his gray eyes fierce. “Pansy, come here,” he commanded. Pansy immediately started to get up, looking stricken, her blue eyes large in her pale face, but Blaise pulled her down protectively.
“She’s with me Draco. Leave her alone!”
Draco moved his hand to his wand, and he was gratified to see the consternation on the Slytherins’ faces. He may have ruled as Most Popular Slytherin in part because of his father’s money and favored position with the ministry, but his father would have been less than pleased if he had occupied any other than the top position in his dorm, and his skill with the wand was famous among Slytherins. His compelling personality, with hints of cruelty and the backing of Crabbe and Goyle had helped too. None of the Slytherins in the car were comfortable. They were frightened of him, but he did not have his henchmen with him. He decided that discretion really was the better part of valor, before they realized that he was without these doughty two, gave the Slytherins assembled a smirk guaranteed to make their blood turn cold, and turning on his heel, strode out.
He had expected some ostracism, but only from the Gryffindors and maybe a few of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. He had definitely not expected to find it in his own house. He guessed now that He Who Must Not Be Named had come out of hiding and declared hostilities, none of them wanted to be too overtly friendly with the son of a Death Eater under Dumbledore’s nose. At the end of the year, he had been the Slytherin leader. Now, it seemed, he was nobody.
He looked into the other carriages, but there was no sign of Crabbe and Goyle. He wondered if they had been expelled, and was rather surprised that he had been allowed back to Hogwarts. If he was correct, and they had been expelled, they had either joined the ranks of the Death Eaters, or were still under house arrest. He couldn’t get too excited about it. It wasn’t as if he actually liked either of them much. Anyway, if they had been made an example of, a lot of people were going to be changing their ways in front of Dumbledore, at least on the outside.
When he got back to his car, he supposed he should really have dragged Pansy off with him, but she had reminded him uncomfortably of his mother. However, his face settled into a scowl as he realized that Blaise probably thought he had backed down. Obviously Blaise had great ideas about taking over as top Slytherin. Especially as he was now a prefect. At least it wasn’t Ron or Harry. Draco lifted his lip in an unconscious sneer, and picked up his new Occlumency book. He felt rather peculiar. It seemed that nothing was going to be as it had been. He had never heard of Alice in Wonderland, but if he had, he would have sympathized with her wholeheartedly.
The train journey dragged on interminably, while Draco sat in state in his own room, reading and yawning (and starving, it must be admitted) by turns. His carry on bag was filled with sweets, among other things such as his camera, but he didn’t actually have a sweet tooth, and he was really looking forward to the feast at Hogwarts.
When the train eventually arrived, Draco picked up his carry on bag (normally Crabbe and Goyle would have done that for him) and started down the stairs after the Patil sisters, who had been in the carriage next to him. He was clumsy, not used to waiting on himself, (Crabbe and Goyle had always acted as his porters) and when a group of noisy first years knocked against him, he swung his heavy bag into the nearest girl, which happened to be Parvati. She squealed and turned around to see who had hit her. Draco gave her his most supercilious glare. Unfortunately, though that was enough to deter most people, it did not impress Parvati. She gave him an outraged look, and pushed through the milling students to join Padma, still glaring at him. Whereas Draco’s eyes narrowed when he glared, Parvati’s seemed to grow even huger than they already were, until they were almost mesmerizing, making her face twice as beautiful as normal. They also flashed pure anger. Draco didn’t like her, but he did appreciate watching her. He pushed first years out of the way as he strode over to her, itching for a fight to disperse some of his ill humor.
“Draco, you watch where you are swinging that case, or you’ll be a giant slug for the rest of term!” Parvati warned.
Draco’s mood changed. He remembered Parvati had been in the car of students who loosed their wands at him, and changed him into that disgusting slug like state that his mother had witnessed on the platform. Before he had been mildly annoyed. Now he was deadly furious. He gave Parvati such a look that even she almost quailed, dropped his bags, and grabbed his wand. So what if he was expelled from Hogwarts? At that moment, he would gladly have joined the Death Eaters. He saw Parvati grabbing wildly for hers as he raised his wand, but before he even opened his mouth, there was a roar of “Expelliarmus!” and both his and Parvati’s wands shot into the air. Draco turned around to see the last person he had expected walking towards him “ Snape. Parvati gave a low moan, unable to believe her bad luck, and began unconsciously to rub her back where Draco had hit her with the bag. Draco looked sideways at her and smirked.
Snape looked at his most frigid and severe as he swept toward them. “Thiry points from Gryffindor Ms. Patil,” he said smoothly. “A disgraceful exhibition to set in front of the first years.” Draco looked over at Parvati, gloating. He saw her eyes widen and her lower lip stick out. She knew it was hopeless, but somehow she was too stubborn to stop herself. Draco watched, sardonic, as Parvati murmured, “But Professor……..”
“Forty points Ms. Patil. And I will see your head of house is informed of this incident.” Snape gave Draco an unpleasant look. Draco’s stomach churned, and he remembered Severus Snape too, was said to be a Death Eater. The sudden, almost nauseous reaction caused him to blurt out, before he even had time to reflect, “It was my fault sir. Parvati was defending herself.”
There was a collective gasp from the bystanders with whom he was familiar, and even Snape himself looked for a minute out of countenance. His face turned thunderous. Snape never liked taking points from his own house. “Five points from Slytherin too then!” he snarled, swirling past Draco in a flurry of black robes.
People started to move on again, and Parvati stared at Draco blankly, her eyes huge. “Thanks, Malfoy,” she said uncertainly. For a moment Draco looked into those enormous chocolate eyes and then somebody knocked him deliberately on their way past. Blaise. The Slytherins had not appreciated points being taken from their house. Draco, recovered, gave Parvati a sneer and picked up his bag again, careful to hit her leg hard with it as he swung around.
“Don’t worry Patil “ I won’t make a habit of it,” he said, striding off. ‘Way to go, Malfoy,’ he thought. ‘Now you have the whole school mad at you.’ The Slytherins he found he couldn’t care about, but he wished he had not just alienated his Head of House. Snape was a bad person to cross.
*********************
“Parvati!” It was Padma calling. With a jump, Parvati realized that she had been staring after Draco. Funny “ when he met her eyes just then, he had looked, well, almost human. Usually his eyes were smirking. It seemed the smirk had been wiped off his face for once. And he was walking alone. Slowly she realized how difficult it must be for him with everyone knowing that his father was a wizard who had been defeated by Harry Potter, no less, and locked up in Azkaban. There had also been something in the Daily Prophet about his father’s assets being frozen. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered her slug jibe. It had not been kind. She regretted it now. However much of a slimeball Malfoy could be, you don’t kick a dog when it’s down. That was her trouble. She was the bossy over-talkative twin, who spoke before she thought. She walked with Padma, keeping her eyes on the figure in front of her, the pale head, with its long ponytail and it must be admitted, very handsome form. Padma couldn’t believe what she had just heard “ Draco Malfoy admitting a fault to Snape? Other people were talking in groups, excited.
The many first years, uncomprehending, wandered around like bewildered sheep as they were collected by Hagrid, alternately frightened and overawed by the dueling scene they had nearly witnessed. Some of them, of course, were alternately frightened and overawed by Hagrid himself, but that couldn’t be helped.