Chapter Text
September 1st, 1998
The angry stares were constant. It was suffocating. Three years ago Draco would have preened at the attention, good or bad. Would have thrived on it. Now he just wanted to shrink into himself. His back was going to develop a hump if he kept this up.
Draco wished the old bat would’ve opened up her floo for him like she had for their meeting a month ago. Alas, “no students can receive special treatment” like she wouldn't have fallen over herself if Granger or Longbottom had asked. Not that you’ve done anything to deserve that kind of treatment.
He was sighing for the 10th time that day when he noticed a giant head of hair that could only indicate one person. He proceeded to shrink into himself further, and further still when he noticed she brought her two idiots with her. Forget a hump, I’m just gonna start walking completely doubled over at this point.
Draco thanked the gods when he saw Granger hug them both goodbye and enter the nearest train car. Maybe he’d be just lucky enough to slip onto the Hogwarts Express without being noticed by them. He really didn’t need to start this year with a confrontation with wonder boy and his ginger sidekick. His plan was moving successfully until he heard Longbottom’s irritatingly deep voice.
“Malfoy!” Longbottom shouted unnecessarily loudly across the platform. “You should come sit with us. We’ll all be sharing a living space for the next 4 years so we might as well get used to each other.”
Great. Just marvelous. If there was anyone not staring, now they certainly were, Potter and the weasel included, who luckily enough settled for simply glaring at him from afar. Granger must’ve had the foresight to tell them that Draco would be here.
As much as he did not want to interact with anyone at all, Draco knew he was not in the position to turn down an olive branch. So he turned and followed Longbottom into the train without responding, too afraid of slipping into bad habits. Too many years of insulting the boy in front of him made Draco uncertain he could manage a conversation with Longbottom without saying something insulting.
“Bit nostalgic innit? Being back on this train?” Longbottom asked.
Draco just nodded stiffly in response, fully committed to his resolution to not engage.
“Ah, here we are!” Longbottom held the door open for Draco while saying “Hi Hermione! Brought Malfoy with me.”
Draco kept his eyes down as he said “Granger.”
“Malfoy.” She replied in much the same way Draco would imagine some would say the word cockroach.
He sat down across from her and immediately started staring out the window. She seemed content to ignore him as she and Longbottom engaged in idle chit chat. As content to ignore him as he was to ignore her.
Her reasons for ignoring him were much different than his for ignoring her, he was sure. Memories of her raced through his mind suddenly. Her punching him in the face, him finding everything and anything he could pick on her for, her calling him an inbred twat, images of her lying like a dead thing on his drawing room floor- stop, stop, stop!
The hours passed by in a haze as the English countryside faded into the Scottish highlands. Draco let the voices of Granger and Longbottom distract him from any unwanted thoughts.
This continued onto the carriages and into the Great Hall. However, the tenseness of the student body was hard to ignore. The older years, in particular. Teenage war veterans entering a place that housed the dead and dying not five months ago.
The sorting ceremony took noticeably longer than in previous years due to the amount of first years who weren’t allowed to go to Hogwarts the year prior.
Draco picked at his food and continued to not engage while McGonagall said some presumably heartfelt and empowering speech about pulling yourself up by the bootstraps or something else lukewarm and filled with platitudes.
His attention remained faithfully on his plate throughout dinner, until McGonagall dismissed the student body and requested the “eighth years” stay back for their accommodation information.
“You three will be given more freedom than your fellow students. You do not need permission to go to Hogsmeade nor are you restricted to specific weekends. Your curfew is extended to midnight. Once your masteries begin next year any and all restrictions will no longer be applicable to you.” McGonagall motioned for them to follow.
“Oh! I nearly forgot.” Without preamble or even pausing her brisk walk towards their new dorms the older witch waved her wand and their robes changed. A plain white button down, with a black tie, robes and trousers. Granger’s looked nearly identical but was finished off with a pleated black skirt. “As you’ll no longer be staying with your respective houses, it was decided to differentiate you three within the student body.”
Longbottom smiled slyly and said “Once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor right Hermione?”
In lieu of a verbal response, Granger smiled and held out her fist. Longbottom tapped hers with his. Whatever that was. Must be a muggle thing.
McGonagall stopped in front of a portrait of a young woman in front of a field of sunflowers and said “Carpe diem.”
The young woman nodded and the portrait swung open. Draco heard an excited noise from Granger as she walked through the portrait hole first.
As he stepped in he didn’t quite understand her reaction. It was a basic common room with plain cream upholstery and a fireplace. Three staircases went along the back wall with the initials NAL above the staircase to the right, HJG for the one in the middle, and DLM above the staircase the left.
“I’ll leave you to get settled in. I’ll be back with your class schedules in the morning.” With a swish of her robes, McGonagall click-clacked out the portrait hole.
She obviously spent too much time with Severus over the years.
Without so much as a nod to his classmates, Draco attempted to retire to his rooms, letting himself call the day successful as it went without incident.
“Ah, the almighty pureblood prince Draco Malfoy too good to grace us, a mere blood traitor and a mudblood adieu.” Came Granger’s scathing voice in an over-exaggerated posh accent.
“You-” He clenched his teeth and his fists. Don’t engage, don’t engage. “Goodnight Granger, Longbottom.”
And with that final humiliation of the day, he turned and left.
With a groan, he landed face first on his bed. Kicking off his shoes he willed himself to sleep without bothering to change.