Yells, shouts, and the loud grumbles of a train made for an altogether pleasant experience. Or at the very least all the commotion made for a nice distraction from the doom and gloom of the past summer. What does it matter that a dark lord usurped the ministry? What does it matter that a fourth of their classmates were gone, either driven to hide or worse? Why should any of them care if their futures were as certain as the weather? Children passed through his compartment hurriedly, none wishing to linger near a known Death Eater [known enemy]. Time passed quicker than his fingers could get a grasp of and sooner than he would have liked did the time come for a performance.
All seven of his yearmates were doing their level best to avoid his gaze [including the head girl? Seriously?] which wasn't all that surprising, it's not like he ever bothered with making friends. The sixteen year olds stared at him with perfectly blank faces, whether that be from hiding their contempt of him or masking their own boredom was anyone's guess. The fifteen year olds were the worst of the lot, a healthy mixture of trepidation and eagerness coloring their cheeks. Did he ever look so stupid when he was their age?
No [no]
He stood before the crowd with both hands out in what he self described as a welcoming motion. “Good afternoon everyone. To those of you who are returning as prefects, welcome back.” His eye caught the slight eyeroll of Longbottom at that comment. “And to those of you who are newly joining us, welcome! For those of you who don't know me already, my name is Draco Malfoy and for future reference if you ever need to reschedule your patrol nights or have any questions you can come to me.” His lips tasted dry, his voice unwilling to put up with the forced enthusiasm. “I, along with this year's Head Girl, hope to run a tight nit schedule. Our headmaster has made it a point to the both of us that the rule breaking and mischief that's plagued Hogwarts for years is to come to an end. Starting this year instead of one patrol a night we will be running two and sometimes even three groups if the staff ask for it.” Most of the fifth years didn't bat an eye at the new rule but the sixth and seventh years? They heard what his words left out. The Gryffindors in the carriage, if they didn't suspect already, now had confirmation that they were being hunted.
Pansy finally took pity and allowed him to not have to do all the talking. “As Malfoy was saying, if you ever feel overwhelmed with the patrol schedules come talk to us and we will work something out.” Schedules were passed around the room and slowly the crowd of students started scurrying off back to wherever they came. Only when Pansy closed the door, not without letting out a sneer in his direction, did he finally let the lines that he had so carefully formed into what could be roughly described as a smile fall apart, a great sigh filling the once again empty room. There was nothing to it, he supposed, in lying to himself. This was going to be a long year.
—
It was raining when they finally reached the train finally stopped, the moon doing absolutely nothing to illuminate their path towards the thestral pulled carriages. [It was of no consequence. His eyes had long grown accustomed to working in the dark.] The ride itself was smooth, the winged beasts uncaring if it were rainy or dry. Hogwarts shone like a beacon what with all of its candles burning bright in an ever darkening nightfall.
Wasn't it past midnight already?
_
The great hall had all the fineries of any previous year and to the unsuspecting eye they would assume that all was well. And in a sense they would be right. If you ignored the absence of nearly a quarter of the entire student population. If you ignored the absence of purple robes, twinkling eyes, and a long gray beard. If you ignored the stilled conversations from nearly every student in the room. Yes! If you ignored all these things then one would be correct in assuming all was well. Headmaster (Professor) Snape cleared his voice after the sorting had finished, a decade forged glare gracing his features. His lips moved as if he was speaking and his arms gestured towards the student body as if he had a point to male and in spite of that Draco heard sounds instead of words. The inhale and exhale of his lungs, the consistent drumming beat of his heart, and the feel of his signet ring were all he could focus on. Eventually the new headmaster sat and so too did the feast appear and so too did food enter his body even if he was not an active participant in that sport, the body moving without the jurisdiction of his mind. [People were staring at him and he knew that and he knew that he needed to look normal and so he kept eating food that he couldn't taste.]
When the feast inevitably ended his feet did the dance that his mind proved incapable of acting out, his body yet again dragging the husk that was his body away from the eyes of Snape. From his housemates. [Were any of them ever his friends?] From the eyes of those pesky Gryffindors who wouldn't employ subtlety until the staff forced them to learn it. Stairs he had grown accustomed to over his six years of Hogwarts now led him to dead ends and did their best to trip but eventually he made it to the Head Boys suite, a door sized painting of a long dead knight begrudgingly letting him through. Before him, if he took the time to appreciate it, was a personal desk and chair, a personal library, a small sitting space, and a bed big enough for three people. But he didn't take the time to appreciate it. [He remembered being an ickle firstie and dreaming of the day he would get his own private dorm. Wasn't past him just adorable?]
Chivvying out of his school robes he proceeded to lay face down on his pillow, a groan of utter exhaustion rumbling through his core. He was to lead one of the patrols tomorrow night, Couard would undoubtedly be awaiting with half a dozen letters by morning [His eagle owl], and he still didn't know what exactly the point was in coming back to school at all. But those were problems for tomorrow. A well placed stunning hex and sleep would finally find him.