Chapter 2: There and Back Again
Draco shifted impatiently on his heels, sighing as he lifted his wrist and tilted it so the numbers of the clock were legible. It was 6:40 AM…the owl sent to him last night had said to arrive here at 6:25 AM. The wizard unfolded the letter briefly, his gray eyes scanning the words written there for a moment before he slipped the paper back into his robe pocket.
He was scheduled to meet a member of the Department of Broom Regulation, someone by the name of Evelyn Longstone “ Draco could only assume that it was a witch. Draco had woken up late, and he had blindly dressed and packed, hurrying to get to the Ministry on time “as he stood there, he suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to put on socks “ and now this Evelyn witch was late. What a pain in the arse she was already turning out to be. She was probably like those awful witches Draco’s mother used to entertain before Draco attended Hogwarts; those loud, prim witches who would always arrive at the Manor an hour later than they had arranged, whose main purpose in life was to pinch Draco’s cheeks and cackle about how handsome he was, not even paying heed to the fact that their nails were painfully digging into his flesh. His mother, luckily, noticed before blood was shed, and distracted the witches, but refused to let him escape to his bedroom. It’s unseemly, Draco. What would your father say?, Narcissa would scold, and, not wanting to disappoint his father, Draco would reluctantly stay and let the women manhandle his poor face.
Draco shuddered at the memory, and quickly distracted himself by observing his new work space. It was a medium sized room, with four clean desks situated around the room. It was clear that only two of the desks were being used, from the lack of papers or files on the two farthest from the door. The other two, however, were clearly occupied. One of them “ the one closest to him, on the far right side “ was reasonably clean, with only a few stray papers littering the smooth surface of the wood. There was a faint, lingering smell of honeysuckle surrounding the desk, and Draco wrinkled his nose as he moved closer. The papers gave no indication of who sat there, and so he quickly moved them aside. Then, movement caught his eye, and he looked up.
There was two picture frames tacked to the wall in front of the desk, and Draco peered at them, his fingers bracing himself on the desk as he examined them.
It was taken by a magical camera, that much was certain, and the one on the right “ and the slightly larger one “ was of two girls, both beaming warmly at the camera. One of them, she looked to be a few years older than the other, was slightly taller “ she had long, straight reddish-gold hair, and bright green eyes “ and she was waving her wand in a ridiculous manner, and the other “ she had equally long, wavy brown hair and clear blue-gray eyes “ was laughing at her companion while secretly giving her bunny ears.
The other picture held three girls, two of them on broomsticks. One of the flying ones he immediately recognized as the Weasley girl “ Ginny “ and the other was the brown haired girl again, this time with shorter hair, going to just above her shoulders. The girl with reddish-gold hair was on the ground between them, her hands on the broomstick handles to keep her friends from flying off. Ginny was wearing the Gryffindor Quidditch uniform and holding a burgundy colored Quaffle, and the brunette was wearing the Ravenclaw uniform and holding a Beater bat. All of them were grinning, and once in a while the broomsticks would rise for a few seconds before lowering back to their original positions, and the girl between them would scold and shriek as she was lifted in the air.
Draco scowled. Neither of those pictures gave any inclination of who sat here. Was it the older girl with reddish-gold hair, or was it the brunette? Or was the occupant neither, instead just a sister or a cousin or even just a friend of those two girls as well as Ginny?
The young man sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.
Why had he taken this job again? Oh yes, it was to create a new name for himself. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?
He just had to go against every impulse that had been ingrained in him from birth. He only had to bite his lip and accept the abuse he knew was coming from his co-workers. He had to be...apologetic. The very word grated against his skin unpleasantly.
Three simple things.
Right.
Draco tried to retain his confidence, but then he caught sight of a disgustingly familiar banner hanging across the other occupied desk on the other side of the room. It was red and gold, and Draco “ for the first time in many years “ had the strongest urge to kick and scream. It was immature, he knew that, but it would satisfy the self-pitying rage that pulsed through him now.
A Gryffindor.
They expected him to work with a bloody Gryffindor of all people?
No. That just wouldn’t do. Screw the job, screw everything! It would be like stepping into a swarm of bees; he could ignore the first few stings, but after a while he would snap and start screaming uncontrollably.
Draco wheeled around, and yanked the door open, and came face to face with a breathless, flushed young woman who had obviously been running just moments before. Her short, wavy brown hair was in disarray, and her blue-gray eyes were frantic.
He barely had time to register who she was before he felt her small “ and surprisingly strong “ hand gripping his collar, and dragging him out of the room. He sputtered, and the girl ignored him as she dragged him out the door. So much for a formal introduction.
“If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late. I hope I brought enough, three days is“”
Draco jerked in surprise, pulling out of her grasp and rubbing his neck tenderly. “Where the hell are we going? And why are you late? I’ve been waiting“”
But the girl went on walking “ and talking “ as if she didn’t even hear him. ““a pretty long time, but I suppose the school will have anything I forgot…”
Draco scowled, but quickly jogged after her, attempting to get her attention until he was finally forced to step in front of her. Her mouth turned downward in a fierce scowl, and he took an automatic step back at the intensity of her expression.
“Are you already aiming to get under my skin, Malfoy?”
Draco frowned. “What“”
“I sent you an owl this morning, telling you that I was running late and double-checking that you knew where we were going.” Her blue-gray eyes snapped at him almost more sharply than her voice.
“A…letter?” He cringed at the memory of dismissing an owl that morning, too busy taking a shower and getting dressed to see the letter on his table.
“Yes, a letter. It’s a piece of paper, with an ingenious thing called writing on it, which is“.”
Draco snarled. “I know what a letter is! And for your information, the letter I received last night from your co-worker said nothing about a three day trip. It said that I’d be meeting Evelyn Longstone “ I assume that’s you “ here at 6:25, nothing more.”
The young woman’s face “ Evelyn’s face “ paled, and Draco rose a single eyebrow at the violent expletive that suddenly left the witch’s lips, and watched as she huffed angrily, rubbing her forehead with tired fingers.
“Great. Wonderful. Bloody fantastic. Well, we’re going to Hogwarts for the next three days, where I will be teaching first years how to fly on broomsticks. I don’t know what you’ll be doing yet, but I’m sure I can think of something.”
Hogwarts? Oh hell…
But before he could protest, he felt Evelyn’s arm hook itself in his “ a very alien feeling, and an action that Pansy was very fond of back in their Hogwarts years “ and in a flash he felt the tug of Apparation. The boy could do nothing more than hang on for dear life as the two travelled to the one place that Draco dreaded returning to, more than any other wizarding establishment, more than even the Malfoy Manor.
This was where his father had been murdered, this was where Crabbe had met his demise at the hands of a fire he had created, this was the place where Draco had been forced to stand, wand pointed at a defenseless Dumbledore…this was where he had watched, so close to accepting Dumbledore’s offer of protecting Draco and his family, Dumbledore’s lifeless body fall out of the tower, the peaceful expression still frozen on his face. Where he had spent many a night in the second floor bathroom, crying and hating himself as Myrtle comforted him, her watery voice soothing him as best it could. Where Potter had used that excruciating spell on him, that day in the bathroom, where Draco had felt so helpless the moment those hate-filled eyes locked on him. Everyone’s eyes would be hate-filled now, no loyal supporters, no faithful bullies to stand beside him.
Draco would stand alone.
In the end, that was all that Draco was good for. Standing alone, taking the brunt of the wizarding world’s hatred, waiting for a day that that hatred would diminish.
Draco felt his feet hit solid ground, and opened his eyes. They were at the large gates that were the entrance into the school grounds, and Evelyn let go of him, striding confidently towards the large metal structure. There was a carriage there, with a single thestral pawing the ground before it. It was an adult, obviously, large and intimidating. There was a small green band that hung around the creature’s front left leg, and Draco quickly looked back up as it stomped its feet impatiently. Its breath was a cloud of smoke in the chilly autumn air, and Draco shuddered as its milky white eyes followed him as they walked towards the carriage, and quickly turned away.
He saw that Evelyn wasn’t getting into the carriage, and his eyes widened as she moved towards the thestral, reaching into her bag and bringing out a raw steak. The creature ate it lazily, and allowed the girl to gently rub its neck.
“Hello, Alida…it’s been so long. You’re all grown up now…”
Draco blanched. “You…know that thing? How? I thought that the oaf took care of them.”
He expected her to get angry at him for calling Hagrid an oaf “ the name had slipped out, it had been so long since he’d said it “ but was surprised when she merely sighed, reluctantly explaining.
“My parents specialize in magical creatures. After the war, my father helped Hagrid in breeding what was left of the thestrals. I was with him, and I watched this one’s birth. I named her Alida, because she was always so small.”
Draco didn’t know what the name meant, and watched as the creature “ obviously remembering this particular witch “ nuzzled her hair and snorted,. Evelyn was facing away from him, so he couldn’t see her reaction to this.
Draco shook his head, and quickly stepped into the carriage, and sat down, placing his bag between his knees and leaning his head against the wall, a position that he had adopted every time he entered the carriages back when he attended Hogwarts.
A few minutes later, Evelyn hopped into the carriage as well, her face neutral as she settled into her seat, reaching into her bag and pulling out a file. Draco accepted the offered papers, and when he asked what they were for, she didn’t look at him, instead spoke while maintaining her gaze out the window.
“It’s a list of spells that you’ll need to master, as well as what they do and what situations best call for them. The other papers are descriptions of what you’ll be doing once we get back to the office.”
Draco nodded, slightly uncomfortable with the fact that she was so openly brusque. He expected it, but it didn’t mean he was comfortable with it. It made him feel like something unclean, the way she refused to meet his eyes and the constant scowl on her face.
And so, for the duration of the carriage ride, in an effort to avoid being aware of the unpleasantly awkward silence between them, Draco poured his attention into reading and memorizing the numerous spells written on the first page of the file.
“Welcome, you two. I hope your trip wasn’t unpleasant?” Professor McGonagall “ the current Headmistress of Hogwarts “ greeted them as they walked into the Entrance Hall. Evelyn was holding her broom “ a Nimbus 2001 that had been ridden so much that the wood where her hands went was slightly indented with the shape of her fingers, burnished and slightly darker than the wood around it “ and smiling at the older witch. Draco felt the woman’s spectacled gaze fixed upon him, and curtly nodded in greeting before settling his gaze on the Main Hall that was visible just behind the emerald-robed witch, the familiar sound of students eating and talking filling the air.
Evelyn nodded politely. “Hello, Professor McGonagall. The trip was fine…I didn’t know that Alida was already pulling carriages. Hagrid said that they usually waited five years until hooking them up.”
McGonagall shrugged, glancing at Draco once more from behind sturdy spectacles. “I’m not the one to question, Miss Longstone. I’m sure that Hagrid would be happy to answer all of your questions related to the thestrals.”
Evelyn smiled. “Oh, I see…sorry about that.”
“It’s quite all right. Now, the first flying lesson is with the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first years, and that’s in thirty minutes. Your next class is with Slytherin and Ravenclaw at 1:00 PM. I’ll just,” The woman waved her wand, and Draco’s bag and Evelyn’s two bags disappeared. “send those up to your rooms. The lessons are taken place outside, on the Quidditch pitch. You will have an hour and a half in which to teach, and your class will be using the brooms found in the small green shed. Are there any questions?”
Her voice was as stern as Draco remembered, and Evelyn nodded seriously, sending a quick smile at McGonagall as the older woman walked back into the Main Hall.
Evelyn sighed, and looked around with what Draco interpreted as a fond expression, her blue-gray eyes lingering on the Ravenclaw banner hanging above the second to last table on the left. So she had been a Ravenclaw. And if she was friends with the Weasley girl…then she must be a year younger than him. Both of those explained why her face had never stuck out to Draco before. He vaguely remembered his time as Slytherin Seeker, and a Ravenclaw Quidditch player with long wavy brown hair, but his memories of playing Quidditch continued to deteriorate as time went on. He still loved the game “ he always had, the competitive streak in him adored a challenge “ and often lamented the fact that his Nimbus 2001 had been destroyed on the night the Death Eaters were sent to intercept Harry Potter four years ago. Voldemort’s rise to power in his fifth and sixth year at Hogwarts hadn’t really allowed him time to participate in popular sports.
Draco followed Evelyn on the familiar trek to the Quidditch pitch, which was as tall and beautiful as always. He stuck his hands in his pockets, when they reached the sheds that held the broomsticks, just outside the stadium, ad watched as Evelyn flicked her wand to unlock the simple chain locking the door of the green shed. When she brushed past him to walk into the shed, he noticed that she was taller than he had assumed at first, and that her robes held a faint lingering smell of honeysuckles “ the same scent that clung lightly to the desk back at the Ministry. He didn’t particularly like the smell…it reminded Draco of Pansy. The girl had worn so much perfume that it surrounded her like a toxic cloud. Now, whenever Draco smelled any perfume remotely flowery, his stomach twisted and turned unpleasantly.
The blonde walked into the musty shed, and assisted the witch in carrying the thirty learning broomsticks out onto the cool September air. The brooms were old and gray in color, and wheezed weakly when Draco set them down. He couldn’t help but smirk condescendingly. He couldn’t wait to see the first years fumbling around on the ancient brooms…it would provide a bit of entertainment to ease the tension between him and his female companion.
Evelyn was treating him exactly like the rest of the wizarding world had since the fall of Voldemort, and again, even though Draco expected it, it somehow unnerved him to see the expression of blatant irritation on her face. He didn’t know why, but it seemed unnatural for it to be present on this witch’s “ Evelyn’s “ face, which made Draco even more confused because he hardly knew the woman.
“You’re going to be repairing the brooms used by the House Quidditch teams.”
Draco blinked. “What?”
“You heard me. Hop to it, there are at least thirty brooms in that shed that need repairing!” Evelyn’s voice was firm, and her tone sharpened when Draco flared angrily. “What, did you really think I’d trust you around a group of innocent first years?”
“I refuse to“” Draco began, but shrunk back at the sight of a slender wand tip just inches from his chest. His words died in his throat as he caught sight of her face, which was carefully neutral.
“Look Malfoy. I don’t like you; you don’t like anyone besides your peachy Slytherin crowd. That’s been made perfectly clear. But you’re in my territory now. I’m your superior, and as such, you will listen to my orders without question. I don’t know why the hell you were given this job; I think that it was a huge mistake for them to even consider your application, but the damage is done. Don’t say a word, just go do it. I don’t want to talk to you more than I have to, and I’m sure the feeling’s mutual.”
Draco watched as she turned huffily, and began inspecting the brooms that were resting in two neat rows opposite each other.
That bitch! No one had ever spoken to him like that, and if she thought she could just turn and act as if nothing was wrong, then she was in for a rude awakening! Draco reached for his wand, and pointed it at her back. She was still tense as she waved her wand over the old brooms, for the moment still unaware of his intentions, stupidly ignorant to think that he wouldn't do it.
One word…and she would be regretting the day she crossed him. One word…and she would be begging for mercy. Anger, raw and painful with both shock and embarrassment, pulsed through his fingers, and he almost let the spell escape his lips.
Almost.
Then he remembered his goal; to create a new name for himself. He had almost forgotten…he had a sudden urge to toss his goal into the wind and give in to his darker desires.
What was one little spell? It would be just this once, just this particular witch…
With a gasp of horror, the boy hurriedly turned on his heel and fled into the shed that had, in that instant, become a sort of sanctuary, slamming the door behind him. He locked it behind him, not to keep her out, but to keep himself in. Draco didn’t trust many people in this world, and he himself was one of those people.
It was pathetic.
The boy sank to the ground, shaking with fear and with barely contained rage. Is this what Draco was reduced to? Attacking a defenseless “ not entirely defenseless, in Evelyn’s case, but similar, seeing as her back was turned “ witch just because she insulted him? That was what Voldemort had done without hesitation and with a sick sense of pride. Remembering made sweat bead up on Draco’s pale forehead, and he gripped his hair tightly in his hands and tucked his head between his trembling knees.
He wasn’t like Voldemort, he wasn’t like Voldemort, he wasn’t like Voldemort, he wasn’t“
Wasn’t he?
Was Draco just fooling himself in thinking that he had managed to make it through the two years under Voldemort’s service without adapting to some of the wizard’s masochistic tendencies?
It took everything in Draco’s power not to scream.
Little Cracks They Escalate by Crimson Lily
Chapter Notes: Here's the next chapter, folks!
Sorry it took so long, Finals were very time consuming, a ghastly experience I'm sure most of you are familiar with.
Anyhoo, enjoy!
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