Early July
It was an early morning, perhaps only 5am or so, when Draco Malfoy materialised in mid air four hundred metres south east of Hogwarts.
With an undignified yell, he dropped flailing for a short distance before landing with a splash in the boggy shallows of the Great Lake. For a long moment he stood there stunned, the lake water soaking into his boots and robe as he took deep breaths and tried to calm his racing heart. The air was so fresh it almost hurt - full of wet earth and tree pollen, the heady expectation of the start of a midsummer's day. Not a hint of the basement dust and must that Draco become accustomed to of late.
Turning, Draco waded slowly through the thick mud and then climbed up the steep rocky bank toward Hogwarts, going down onto hands and feet to scramble over tumbling rocks and boulders. The stones were sharp under his hands, and still cool from the previous night.
When he finally climbed high enough to catch a glimpse of the school, Draco froze in place. Hogwarts was a shattered mess.
Great chunks of the outer walls and turrets were missing and the windows looked like gaping mouths ringed with teeth of smashed glass. It appeared almost as though a hoard of dragons had laid siege on the place. Only a single candle burning high up in the headmaster's tower gave Draco a thread of hope that things for him had not gone from very bad to worse.
With a last sigh Draco straightened up, then finished his climb to join the lakeside path, following its lazy curve round to the main castle entrance.
Once inside - no big problem given the great door was left wide open - Draco squatted on the floor of the empty entrance hall and pressed his hands down wide on the cold chequered tiles, feeling carefully for the familiar rumble of life. Nothing.
"Fuck" his whisper sounded thready in the echoing room.
In the months Draco had spent hiding in the Hogwarts basement he had come to really notice and then appreciate the school. At first just the warm breezes it sent him, the lights it flicked on when he navigated its corridors. Eventually he had become aware of the deep vibrating hum that came from beneath stone floors and behind walls if you just reached out and stood still and quietly enough. It was like a clock ticking in a room when one was trying to sleep - once you noticed it you could not stop. To Draco, Hogwarts had felt almost alive, almost like a friend. But this Hogwarts was quite different: cold, still and quiet as a tomb.
With a sigh, Draco straightened and continued upon his way, brushing his hands together as he went. He thought he could hear the sounds of building work in the distance and on a different floor, but there was not a soul in evidence as he made his way to the headmaster’s rooms. The castle really was an utter mess and Draco found his eyes constantly catching on piles of rubble and suspicious stains as he worked his way upwards. The staircases lay still, the portraits empty.
The entrance to Dumbledore's office looked blessedly free of damage. Once Draco had tried a few passwords and failed, he made do with hammering on the door instead. After a few minutes he heard a clattering and rustling from inside, and then the door cracked open to reveal not the bearded, smiling face he’d hoped for, but instead the stern visage of Professor McGonagall. Though unexpected, the sight of her still caused relief to flood through his body.
"Well well" she said, her face cold and forbidding "not what I could have expected. What can I do for you?"
“I came to deliver a letter to you headmistress, and to ask for sanctuary”
No need to waste time working up to it he thought; McGonagall appreciated directness, and really he couldn't bear being in limbo a second longer.
“Sanctuary? Pray tell me more. And while you’re at it you can tell me where on earth you got the material for the Polyjuice potion you used to become that poor child. This is not at all in good taste”
Despite her harsh expression, McGonagall's voice sounded weary.
Draco sighed and handed over the letter from his inside robe pocket.
"I swear I am Draco Abraxas Malfoy, Lord Malfoy. Please read the letter first, then I will answer all your questions.”
Draco had been carrying the letter for weeks now, but the familiar writing still wounded him when he looked at it. McGonagall clearly recognised the writing too; her face went blank.. Without a word she took the thick letter and gestured him inside.
Draco watched as McGonagall crossed to sit at her desk. She cast some charms over the letter, face unreadable, then cracked open the wax seal and unfolded it. As she read, Draco wandered around the familiar room, reading book spines and glancing up at the empty portraits on the walls. It was some time before she spoke.
"Well Mr Malfoy. I am quite lost for words, but this letter does appear to be genuine. Can it really all be true?”
Draco spun the globe with his dusty fingers, watching the countries turn faster and faster until they blurred before his eyes.
“Quite true I’m afraid. Repairing and then using the device was unutterably selfish I know. I didn't even expect it to work, but I was quite desperate. There was nothing left for me after Dumbledore was gone, no hope for justice and no allies left. I knew the death eaters were closing in. I could have stayed and fought, but I'm not so brave - and I doubt I would have lasted more than three humiliating minutes before being killed”
“You are still a child Draco, never feel regret about failing to throw away your life. I wish you had found a better way to escape though. There are many very good reasons that that type of travel is utterly forbidden. Surely there were other options open to you."
"None that I could see" Draco replied, stopping the globe's rotation with a press of his hand.
McGonagall sighed and tucked the letter away in a drawer.
“To answer your earlier request Draco: yes, you may stay. I will even go so far as to say your presence here would be valued. Hogwarts is terribly damaged and we are racing to fix it before the new term starts, every pair of hands helps.”
"New term? The school is still running? Has the Dark Lord defeated in this world then? Or is he still out there somewhere?" Draco almost felt relief as the questions he'd been afriad to ask spilled out of his lips unbidden.
"Oh very much defeated Mr Malfoy, although at great personal cost to many. This time I can promise you his death will be permanent."
Draco supressed the overpowering urge to cry in relief. The last few months had been a living nightmare, in hiding and desperately working on an insane escape route, all the while terrified and half expecting sudden death. It was finally at an end and he was apparently safe. It didn’t feel quite real.
"You look tired Mr Malfoy. Ruckle will show you to your room and bring you some fresh clothes and breakfast. Come see me later on today when you are feeling more the thing and we'll come up with a plan of action. Until then please speak of this" she waved the letter "to nobody"
Draco nodded and crossed to leave the room.
An elf was waiting outside the door and took him up to a room tucked in the attics. The old him would probably have been disgusted at its compact proportions, but Draco looked around the room at it's smooth golden-wood floor and row of narrow windows with pleasure. The morning fog was burned away now and the sky was a perfect blue.
"Will Master be wanting breakfast?"
"Yes please Ruckle. I have a busy day ahead of me, there is lots of work to do"