Chapter 1
The last thing Draco wanted was to be stared at as he walked into the great hall, let alone the fact that he was stripped of his Slytherin pride. Every student who came back for a final year was. He looked to his left, Pansy stared at the ground, her ebony-hair was cut to her chin again, she chopped it off this summer, she said it reminded her of when things were okay, when we weren't seen as villains, but as children. She wore a gray sweater, a black skirt and knee highs, not a single strand of green was in sight, Blaise wore the same gray sweater as her, with black dress pants, as did Draco. It was embarrassing, the great hall was the same, but the feeling was different. After watching Bellatrix destroy it last year, it would never be the same. Pansy mumbled something and Draco looked up, Daphne Greengrass was waving her hand, gesturing to them to sit with her. He just followed lazily behind. He sat with his back facing the wall, across from Daphne's younger sister, Astoria. She seemed painfully tense, and then Draco was reminded of who he was "how'd they let him back in here, 'fucking death eater." Draco swallowed thickly at the random fourth year's voice, in his past years, he would've cursed out the boy, hexed him, anything, but now, he didn't have the energy to care. The boy's friend hushed him, fear wallowed in his eyes.
Draco was used to it, very few people saw him as a human, but one of those few was Harry Potter. The last time Draco saw Harry was at his trial, and now he was walking into the great hall. Draco's breath was caught in his throat when Harry met his eyes. "Draco is not accountable for his actions. He was a child practically being held at gunpoint." Harry's voice swam in Draco's head, the trial ended in Narcissa being arrested for Child Endangerment, and Lucius being sent to Azkaban. Draco was eighteen and kicked to the curb, he had no family. Thankfully, the Zabini family had no associations with Voldemort, so Marlene Zabini took care of him. Blaise's mom had also taken Pansy under her wing when she came out to her parents, who disowned her.
Harry's eyes broke away first as Weasley dragged him away, Ginny, not Ron. Draco felt dumb, he was an ex-death eater, no matter how much remorse he showed, he still was him. If he could be anyone else, he would. Pansy chatted with the blonde girl, Blaise toyed with his food, everything was exactly like how it was before. But it wasn’t. It never would be exactly how it was. He will never be the stupid boy getting punched by Granger, or the annoying asshole howling in class making fun of werewolves, or the little boy scared out of his mind in the forbidden forest, alongside Harry. Draco’s breath picked up, his chest rising quickly, panic filled him, his body was collapsing on itself, his mind was breaking off, piece by piece. He spun the snake ring he wore on his finger, he felt the stupid phantom burn on his forearm, the stupid mark, the stupid decision he made, the stupid sixteen year old he was. No matter what Harry said, He was accountable for his actions, he chose it, he said yes, he agreed to let the death eaters into the school, he agreed to kill dumbledore, he was a villain.
A hand was on top of Draco’s now. He looked to his side, Pansy looked up sympathetically, he hated to say it, but she was one of the only things keeping him here. She squeezed his hand once more before Draco’s breathing slowed, he closed his eyes and tried to be subtle about the tear that slipped down his face. Pansy let go of his hand and went back to her conversation with Daphne, as if nothing happened.
Draco opened his eyes and looked around, once his eyes were on the Gryffindor table, Harry’s were on the slytherin. They held eye contact, but Harry’s eyes were dragged away by Weasley again. All of them looked drained, Granger was clearly trying to keep a positive attitude, Ron stared at his food, not eating it, which was very un-ron like, Harry looked, well, like he was lost, He looked like he'd lost purpose, as if the whole wizarding world didn’t praise him, he looked tired, his brown hair was shaggy like it was in third year, he wore a black hoodie and jeans, we weren't allowed to wear our house colors. The girl Weasley looked the worst out of all, her eyes looked as though all she could think about was the past, bags were under her eyes, and her skin was even paler. Draco remembered her running in the halls, laughing, with Fred and George, Fred. He suddenly realized how much that must’ve hurt, he lost one of his best friends, Theodore Nott, in the war, but it couldn’t compare to losing a brother. Draco imagines where he would be without Pansy, or Blaise, the only thing he could think of was him dead.
McGonagall gave her speech, the first years got sorted, there was only one new slytherin. Every kid wanted to be in Gryffindor, Draco bit subconsciously on his cheek, but he was yanked back into reality by McGonagall’s voice. “Once the feast is over, all returning eighth years, please come see me.” Draco wondered what that would be about.
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Ron, Harry, Granger, Blaise, Neville, Pansy, Daphne, Draco, a random Hufflepuff girl, and two random ravenclaws, stood in front of McGonagall. They were the only ones in the so called “eighth year”, not a single one had house colors on. “I've asked you lot to stay back to talk about your dorming,” Her Scottish accent was thick and strained. “In the rebuilding of the castle, we’ve decided to build a small housing for you all, where Hagrid's hut used to be.”
Draco’s lips parted, he had spent so much of his time at Hogwarts in the dungeons, he just assumed he'd go back to his old dormitory. “But what I mostly wanted to talk about is your roommates.” McGonagall took a pause before a parchment appeared in her hands. “I want to extend the idea of house unity, and every student in this place looks up to you lot.” She took a long pause before reading the list. “Zabini with Kimber, Weasley with Blank. Parkinson with Granger, Greengrass with Manson, and Potter with Malfoy.” The last one came out too quickly, but Draco heard her all too well. He took a sharp intake of breath, Weasley made a weird noise of confusion, and Harry was just completely still. “Your trunks await you, as I said, where hagrid's hut used to be,”
Blaise looked at Draco sympathetically before walking over to one of the Ravenclaws, Draco recognized him as James Kimber, the seeker for Ravenclaw. Draco forced his eyes up, they met Harry’s, an awkward smile played on his lips, Draco pursed his lips before turning on his heels, following the rest of the eighth years. His heart was pounding, he has to share a room with Harry, Harry fucking Potter?
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The place was quite similar to Hagrid's hut, only it looked more sturdy and a little bit larger, Granger was the first to step in, we all followed behind her. It was light and the moon light glared through the windows, there was a small kitchen, a living area, quite similar to the common rooms, “Well, I’m going to head to bed” Granger said trying her best to be perky, she kissed Weasley goodnight and began walking up the short stairs that Draco assumed led to the rooms, but she stopped halfway up, “Pansy?” Granger said, inviting the ebony haired girl to follow her to their room, and she did. The rest of them began piling up the stairs into the rooms. It seemed as though the house had expanded when they walked upstairs, the rooms had names above them, Draco spotted his and walked slowly towards it. Once he stepped in, he expected to hear the door shut, but he heard a pair of footsteps. Harry had walked in right behind him. The room was a brown shade, once again, like Hagrid's hut. One bed sat on the left corner with a side table beside it and a trunk on the end of the bed and a desk not too far from it, on the opposite side of the room was another bed, same side table, and same desk. Draco cleared his throat awkwardly and walked over to the farthest bed, he opened the trunk and recognized his stuff, he mostly recognized it from the piles of journals and books he'd kept over the years.
It may have been something only his close friends knew about, but Draco is a literature junky. He was obsessed with writing everything about his life since fourth year, when he realized he was into men. He had secretly been obsessed with muggle literature; he found it impressing that they found a way to interpret magic into their stories even though it was right in front of them. He had piles of classical muggle books, alongside seven of his own journals. They consisted of random poems, letters, complaints, short stories, anything his brain could conjure up was written in one of those journals. “Didn’t know you were into literature like that?” The voice was calm yet uneasy, Draco placed a journal he’d had in his hands back into his trunk and stood up, facing Harry. “Don’t make this any more awkward than it has to be, okay?” Draco wanted to be transparent with Harry “I don’t expect us to become best mates, but there's no reason to be angsty.” Harry’s words were timid, like he feared Draco still. He hated it, He hated it so much.
“Okay.” Draco said rapidly and snatched the most recent journal he’d written in and plopped down onto his bed, he felt Harry’s eyes on him, but chose to ignore them. Draco had mastered silent charms, which was oddly hard. A quill appeared into his hand and wrote how he felt in the moment, it was dumb, but it made him less anxious. “What’cha writing?” Harry drawled out, his voice oddly angelic. “Nothing.” Draco said dully, Harry’s shoulders slumped, in a clear attempt to get Dracos attention, eventually he gave up and snatched pajamas and stormed out of the door towards the lavatory. Draco dropped the journal on his chest and let out an exaggerated breath.