The Veiled Boy

Severus watched with impatience as the train slowed to a stop and the crimson doors opened, allowing for a cascade of excited children. Their voices disrupted what had been a calm, serene evening. Now he was without the symphony of insects and the distant song of a nightingale. To make matters worse, Hagrid bellowed loudly for the first-years to gather around. 

Severus typically refrained from transporting students; he'd been there to teach them, not herd them like cattle. But tonight he was to escort his godson into Hogwarts, and remarkably, for that very reason, he'd wish to be nowhere but the chaos of the platform. Over the many heads of children, Severus peered, and with each second passing, he'd grown infinitely agitated. The boy's mother's voice sounded in his head: 'I trust you will ensure nothing happens to my baby. Pray utter those very words! Should anything happen to him, I will cease to live!' She'd become a tad bit hysterical nowadays. 

And that is no exaggeration, even if she's always been skittish when it came to her son. Narcissa and Lucius cherished the boy and the very ground he walked upon. A miracle child, he was, and thus they treat him as such. Draco was given perfection but he became anything but. He'd become anxious much too young, for he'd expected perfection in every aspect of life. But all normal people understand that perfection is unattainable, and even impossible. One irregular occurrence, one crooked spoon, or one wrinkled sheet, and the boy was liable to intense outbursts. With time, and careful attention from a Mind Healer, the boy's ailments subsided, but he still suffers from this terrible agitation. And it is because of this, Severus was very anxious to find him. 

Finally Severus spotted him. Draco stood rather awkwardly off to the side. The other children moved away from him as if he'd smelled terrible, or he'd become the Womping Willow. At this sight, Severus's heart ached tremendously, but he put it aside as he'd begun to pursue his godson. 

"Draco," called Severus, gently shoving a student to the side to pass freely. "Draco!"

"Ah! Severus!" Draco threw his arms around Severus's neck affectionately. Several students laughed, but Severus could hardly care. "I must say, I'd expected you to be standing right in front of the door, just like father said you would. I panicked for a while, Severus." 

"Draco, haven't you noticed there are about twenty doors on this train? How was I to know from which you were to exit?"

Draco laughed merrily and shrugged. "What of it? I just wanted to make a scene. If God didn't exist, he would have to be invented. If a scene didn't exist, I would have to invent one. Where is that from, Severus?"

"Voltaire." 

"Perfect! You pass!" Draco linked his arm with Severus's. "Let's go, shall we? I know it's been only a short while since I've left my home, but I've already got a story to tell!"

"Save it for the carriage," said Severus, pointing at the boy's private carriage parked off to the side—away from the school's carriages. 

House elves heaved Draco's luggage onto the carriage, their mimsy arms trembling under the weight and sweat beading on their small, pale foreheads. Severus opened the black carriage door and helped Draco on. 

The young boy sat comfortably on the bench, swinging his legs playfully as he situated himself opposite him. When the door shut, Draco lifted the veil and sighed with relief, as if he'd been suffocating under the mantilla. Those large, gray eyes, notorious for their great power, displayed nothing but a childlike excitement. Upon seeing his godson's face, Severus's consciousness had become loftier by tenfold. Yes, it was no secret that Severus had a natural aversion to people, namely adults and ill-mannered children. But his godson was one exception, and for him, he'd give quite literally anything. Even laying his eyes on his godson would allow for a warm sensation to erupt in his chest; he knew at once he held a valuable place in the world. And when the child was exceptionally happy, this feeling increased still. It was almost laughable that people avoided him, afraid of his capabilities. 'He'd sent Podgers to the madhouse,' they'd whisper. 'Behind the Veil are eyes that will make anyone mad; they will show you your death,' they say. But Severus knew that behind the Veil, there was a child. That was it. 

"Goodness, Severus, I dare say I've never been more offended in my life!" Draco began fussing with his hair. 

"How so?" 

"Well, I take it you know of that wretched Harry Potter? He'd come inquiring after me, very eager to ingratiate himself with me. Well, I may be exaggerating. Our exchange had been rather civil until he brought up mudbloods."

Severus flinched at the boy's use of the word. "You mustn't use that term at Hogwarts, Draco. It is not appropriate here, despite what you believe. Carry on."

"That Potter denied me his friendship because I uttered that very word! He condemns me for my prejudices! Ah, of course he'd believe I was the one who was prejudiced. I read he'd been raised by mudbloods; they must have taken it upon themselves to brainwash him into thinking pure-bloods are the villains!"

"Listen to me, Draco," said Severus with a very serious tone. Draco, who had been laughing and enjoying himself up until now, suddenly rid himself of his previous playful air and silenced himself obediently. "The children at Hogwarts are not at all like you. Even the pure-blooded children there do not hold their beliefs in such high regard as you do. You understand that you will be the only Veiled child within those walls, do you? And they may not take too kindly to what the Veil means, especially with muggleborns among them."

"Surely, not all of them are muddied pigs... Someone must know the truth. I cannot be the only one, Severus." Draco's gray eyes narrowed with immense disconcertion. Severus's own heart trembled when he heard such words from his godson. "That is why they've been avoiding me, isn't it? Well, I hardly care. They aren't a priority!"

Severus wanted to tell his godson that all the students knew of ministry official Podgers's descent into madness, and that the story had become so tremendously twisted that all students believed him to be a monster. Severus couldn't tell him. Draco hadn't intended to send Podgers into despair; it was the official's doing for tormenting the boy. 

"And suggest you don't say the word mudblood again. Not at school anyway," said Severus carefully. "Immerse yourself in your studies. Friends aren't a priority, just like you said." 

"I'd been lying just now about not caring. I really wish to make friends, Severus," Draco said resolutely. "There had been only eleven students at Kievount. Five were much too young, and five were much too old. I've been thinking of this as of late; I think I've become obsessed with the idea of making friends. I am terribly afraid, though; I've never really had a friend—besides you, of course. Do you think I'm odd, Severus? Do you think they'll receive me well? Despite the Veil?"

"And you ask me? Let me remind you that I was not at all popular when I was your age. Naturally, I was considered odd. Draco, do not be offended or discouraged. A unique character, by all means, is an interesting one. I just wished for you to know that the Veil will arouse attention and perhaps anger among the other children. That's all." 

Draco nodded, and it seemed that his confidence had left him entirely. "I understand," was all he said. He'd remained silent for the entirety of the ride to the castle. The silence seemed perpetual, and it weighed upon them like the plague. Severus watched Draco's excitement dilute into nervousness. The boy's leg bounced agitatedly; his ivory fingers fiddled with his veil; it seemed as if Severus alone had frightened him.

At last, the carriage slowed to a halt. A house elf opened the door for them upon their arrival and bowed so deeply that her nose nearly touched the gravelled roads. Severus helped his godson off the carriage as he concealed his face once again. 

There it was: Hogwarts. Draco paused and had been staring at it for a while, and Severus could only imagine how perplexed the child was at the sheer size of it. "A tad bit larger than Kievount, I take it?" Severus started, giving Draco a reassured smile.

"Very much so," the latter breathed. "I'm afraid I will get lost within those walls." 

"You will be aided, don't you worry," Severus said, gently grasping Draco's elbow and dragging him in the direction of the entryway. 

"That is if they wish to aid me. Did you not say the entire student body is destined to hate me because of my Veil?" Draco brought out bitterly.

"I did not say that... You'll have help, regardless of what they think of you. Besides, you'll have me." 

"Lovely. My only friend will be my godfather."

"You say that with great chagrin."

Draco looked in his direction and shrugged nonchalantly. "What of it? Don't you know I'm hardly ever serious with you?"

"Well, we must be a little more serious now. Let me tell you what will happen the moment we walk through those doors. You will be sorted into one of four houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, or Ravenclaw. I wholeheartedly believe you'll be in Slytherin, just like your father."

"Is Harry Potter in Slytherin?" Draco interrupted.

"No, the boy is a Gryffindor, just like his parents." Severus looked at Draco curiously. "Anyway, based on your house, you'll be assigned a table to eat at and a room to sleep in. After dinner, I will give you your timetable, and I'll pick you up in front of your room to take you to your classes."

Draco suddenly paused and removed his arm from Severus's grip. "I don't wish to go."

"I'm sorry?"

"I don't think I can," whispered Draco, his voice trembling. "What about Podgers?"

Severus flinched at the sound of that name. "What about him?"

"I didn't mean it, Severus. I really didn't want to do it," Draco whimpered. "What if it happens to a student here? I cannot control it—"

Severus grabbed the boy firmly by the shoulders and gently shook him. 

"Listen to me, Draco. Albus Dumbledore would not have admitted you if he deemed you a threat. Don't you punish yourself and ruin yourself over an act of true desperation. Do you understand me? You are not unworthy of a proper education—a real chance at life—because of a mistake. And if we were all liable to be punished for all of our misdeeds, all of humanity would be imprisoned in a stagnant state. You are a brilliant boy, Draco. Don't you let anyone or anything ruin your potential."

"Yes, I suppose so, but I am still so terribly afraid. I cannot bear the idea of it happening again." 

"Then be afraid; feel fear; suffer in it. Go on, do as you wish, but by God, do not paralyze yourself so early on with what may happen.  Understand?"

"I understand."

Severus nodded and stood resolutely. "Take my hand, Draco. Don't you be afraid, okay?"

"Okay." 

Severus pushed the doors open and entered the castle's foyer. Draco audibly gasped and turned in circles, taking in the castle's grandeur with awe. "Come with me; you'll need to be sorted." 

They walked down the corridors to the large wooden doors that opened into the Great Hall. Draco seemed visibly tense now; he shifted from foot to foot and began to tug at his clothes with increased agitation. Watching this immediately brought upon a feeling of pity, a feeling that has threatened to overtake Severus since the carriage ride. But he knew he ought to feel glad for the boy, for this was his only chance at freedom. 

"You mustn't be nervous," Severus whispered, fixing his robes and adjusting his already-perfect veil. "It's a simple thing, really. It'll be over as soon as possible." 

"And I must remove my veil while I go to dinner? Even with mudbloods nearby?"       

"No, you are not obligated to remove your veil. Dumbledore has generously allowed you to keep it. Again, we do not permit the use of the term mudbloods," whispered Severus. "You mustn't call them that. Muggleborns will do."       

"Muggleborns..." repeated Draco silently to himself. "I'll try..."

"Perfect, let's go." Severus attempted a reassuring smile, but it seemed it did nothing but make his godson more nervous. The grip on his arm tightened as Severus pushed open the doors. 

Unfortunately, children are not immune to excitement. The entire hall erupted in giddy giggles and terribly dramatic gasps. In fact, these gasps were so abundant that Severus wondered how there was any air in the hall left to breathe. They began to whisper to each other. "That's him! That's our new basilisk! Thank Merlin for the Veil! Don't look at him!" 

"Now, now," Dumbledore held his hands up in the air, and in an instant, the room lapsed into a deafening silence. "Unusually, we have another student to sort, a new fifth-year."

The excited gasps and giggles erupted once more. Hagrid stood up abruptly at the professors' table, temporarily diverting everyone's attention away from Draco and silencing them. 

"Everyone, this is Draco Malfoy. I'm sure you've seen his family around Diagon Alley—quite a prominent family... Nonetheless, let's get him sorted," said the headmaster. He moved away and gestured for Draco to have a seat on the stool. With a trembling hand, Draco held onto Severus as the two of them made their way down the aisle. Like dominoes, students leaned in accordance with their pace and clamored excitedly for one another. 

"Have a seat," Severus whispered. Draco sat down on the chair, trying to conceal his shaking hands by holding onto his sleeves tightly.       

Minerva cast an involuntary glance at Severus as she slowly brought over the Hat. The hall was perfectly silent, and their undivided attention was on it. If only they'd pay attention like this in class, Severus thought bitterly. Minerva lowered the Hat onto Draco, and it sprung to life. "Ah! I know exactly where to put you! You're a little older, aren't you? Brilliant mind, brilliant! Terribly neurotic, but I sense a deep power in you," the Hat chortled, his voice echoing. "Without a doubt, Slytherin!"        

The Slytherin table did not erupt into cheers. In fact, a heavy silence came over them as they stared at Draco with great apprehension. "Go on," Severus whispered. "Join them at their table."      

"I-I— yes, sir," Draco made his way over to the table with great apprehension. Severus felt a strange urge to go grab him and pull him back; he felt as if suddenly the entire castle was a danger to his godson. Perhaps thorny vines would erupt from the walls and capture him, or maybe a dementor disguised as a student would get to him at the tables.

"Is everything alright, Severus?" the headmaster asked from behind him.      

"Yes," he breathed, taking a deep breath to ease his tensing shoulders.

Severus sat at the professor's table with his eyes glued to his godson, and he'd been so consumed with worry that he did not dare to eat. Draco himself also did not eat, which was a terrible habit of the boy's when he felt nervous. Students had moved away from him, and he'd been isolated at the far end of the table. 

This is his only chance at freedom, thought Severus, staring at the pitiful scene before him. This is the only chance for Draco to free himself of the dark path that lay ahead.

Dear mother and father, 

Hogwarts is exquisite, and I am doing just fine. I adore the room I have. I'd been secretly anxious to find out if I'd be sharing a dormitory, but now I am most relieved to find my room to be entirely my own. For that, I thank you, father. 

I've been sorted into Slytherin, just like you, father. Of this, I am also glad, for I believe I suit the green fairly well. But I digress! Students are reluctant to ingratiate themselves with me, but that is only human nature. I think that I will have friends by tomorrow evening. 

Mother, let me give you the reassurance you require. I am very happy to be here. As I am writing this, I am sufficiently fed and am very warm by the burning hearth. I hope this remedies your anxiety, mother, so you may rest easy tonight.

Of course, it is no secret that I miss you both dearly already. When Yule approaches, I will be most pleased to return to the manor, and I will not be empty-handed, for I will have stories of my own to share. I love you both dearly. 

Your son,

Draco Malfoy. 

Draco slowly sealed the envelope and set it on his nightstand. He lay his heavy head down on his feather pillow and stared ahead at the empty hearth. The mouth was dark and somewhat unsettling. Draco turned to be rid of the sight. 

Two rowdy boys walked by his room—most inconsiderate at this late hour—and shouted words that would prompt a fit from Draco's mother if she'd been here. 

"Bloody hell, this is the Veiled kid's room?" One kid asked loudly, earning a hiss from his friend. "It's a good thing he's got his own room. I think I'd have left Hogwarts if Snape had me bunking with that freak." 

With that, the two boys continued down the hall, laughing heartily at the jest.

A quiet tear emerged in Draco's eye and traveled down his cold, pale face and onto the pillow under him. His empty stomach made a noise. It was mocking him, thought Draco. As if to remind him of the isolated and untouched dinner he'd endured at the Great Hall earlier today.

Draco desperately wished to be in his own bed at the manor. He'd have opened his windows that overlooked their garden, and from the osmanthus trees outside, a sweet aroma would fill his bedroom. And then, somewhere along the way, a nightingale would be singing for him. His mother would shower him with affections, and his father would look upon him with great pride and admiration. Under that roof, Draco would not have been wrongfully deemed a basilisk but a boy, for that was all he was; that was all he could ever be.

Draco fell asleep on a tear-soaked pillow. The last thing he’d seen was the fear-stricken face of ministry-official Podgers.