Chocolate
Chapter 4: Chocolate
The morning they were to leave on the Hogwarts Express, Draco woke to the raised voices of both parents down the hall. He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying through the muffliato that had been lazily cast, but his mother sounded furious, and his father exhausted of all energy. The youngest Malfoy tiptoed to his door, not wanting to alert them that he was, in fact, awake and trying to eavesdrop—although his father didn’t sound like he was in the mood to punish the boy for it.
Draco silently cracked the door open just enough to see his father’s worn and haggard appearance. Lucius’s usually lush and long blonde hair was dull and slightly frizzy. He had a patchy five o’clock shadow working its way across his face, and his eyes looked like they had lived another lifetime. The boy truly felt sorry for his father. The type of marriage bonds used by old pureblood families caused not just emotion but true physical distress when the bondmates were separated for too long. His mother had kept up with her beauty and concealment charms, but underneath Draco knew she had the same purpling circles beneath her eyes, which had lost their twinkle over a month ago.
Whatever his parents had been arguing about, his mother had finally given in. She reached a delicate hand out and Lucius took it in both of his, cradling it in his palms like a flower. He pulled her closer and pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead, and Narcissa leant into the show of affection, closing her eyes. Draco closed his door and carefully crept back away from the door to give them some privacy.
He was so filled with joy for his parents. He had never known a broken household or what it was like to have separated parents, like many of the half-bloods and Muggleborns had. He didn’t have a parent who died or disappeared one day like Blaise and Theo. He had two loving parents who doted on not only him, but each other, and seeing them take that much time apart had shaken him to his core.
There wasn’t really such a thing as divorce in the wizarding world due to the sharing of magic when witches and wizards were bonded, even if they didn’t use the old pureblood rituals. Losing that other person could significantly drain your magic and life. He shuddered to think of what would have happened had his mother continued to dismiss his father’s remorse.
He noted that the sky was still somewhat dark outside his window. A midnight blue fading slowly into sapphire and azure. Tinges of coral and pink crept over the horizon, hinting at a sunrise. Draco knew there was no way he could relax enough to go back to sleep, and he would need to be up in an hour or so anyway. Instead, he took his time showering and double checked the things piled into his trunk. When he had gone through his mental checklist for the third time, he gave up and locked it, sending it floating out in front of him and down the stairs to the Floo.
Pansy and his mother were waiting in the dining room, eating a simple breakfast of fruit, toast and jams and jellies. His tea was waiting for him under a stasis charm to keep it warm.
“Where’s father?” Draco blurted to his mother. Seeing the look of surprise she gave him, he quickly realized his mistake, “I thought I heard him this morning when I woke up,” he said in faux disappointment, “I guess I was wrong.”
“Your father was here, he had to return to the Ministry to oversee a new…project…he will be unable to see you off at Kings Cross,” she said mischievously, “but will be home this evening.” Narcissa gave her son a sweet smile and her cheeks blushed ever so slightly. Pansy winked at Draco over her tea cup and Draco smiled in return.
After breakfast, the three teenagers finally got lined up to go through the Floo. Draco stood first, eager to return to classes and see Granger. Her letter over the summer had hinted that she still wanted to be—well whatever they were—and that was enough for him. Pansy stood behind Draco, trying to tuck her arm into his but ended up just awkwardly gripping his elbow. Theo brought up the rear, barely getting to the foyer in time to leave as he had slept through half the morning. His shirt was half untucked and his chestnut hair stuck out at odd angles, much like Potter’s typically would.
“We best go now, or you’ll all miss the train,” Narcissa said briskly.
“At least we’re not dim enough to fly a car into the Whomping Willow if we did miss the train,” Pansy cackled, looking at Draco for his reaction. He chuckled lightly and turned away from her. Theo snorted indelicately, and earned himself another glare, the third since he’d descended the stairs. The other two being due to his appearance and lack of punctuality.
“Oh I can’t believe it’s already your third year!” Narcissa gushed as she ushered them into the Floo one at a time. Once Theo was through the grate, she crossed through, herself, throwing down her handful of powder, “Platform nine and three-quarters, Kings Cross.” Green flames erupted, licking at her kitten heels as she stepped out into the train station.
Most of the students were boarding now, only a few left to say their goodbyes. Narcissa gathered her three children around and placed a small, wrapped, rectangular package in each of their hands. She kissed each of their cheeks and gave them all a warm embrace before shooting them off with a bright shine to her eyes.
“Now, those are for whenever you need a pick-me-up, but try not to eat them as soon as you get on the train, they should last at least a few hours,” she smiled, pointing her look at Draco and Theo moreso.
The final whistle sounded and they stepped onboard. Draco, Pansy, and Theo shuffled their way to the back of the train, looking for a compartment. There were two left, seeing as Daphne had drawn the shades at the sight of Pansy and Theo. Blaise, sharing her compartment, had given Draco an apologetic look that said he probably wouldn’t be allowed in either. Luckily the final two compartments were empty except for a haggard older man curled into the corner of the last one. They favored the other instead, and settled in for the ride.
After about twenty minutes, Vince and Greg joined them, and when the trolley witch made her rounds, they gorged themselves on sweets like each previous year. As the afternoon passed, it started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window.
Vince and Greg had wanted to go look for Millicent and Tracey, and Draco just needed to stretch his legs. Theo had already fallen back asleep, and Pansy was sprawled out next to him, reading her Muggle fashion magazines and Witch Weekly.
The three boys exited the compartment, and were quickly drawn to the last compartment that the older man had taken up residence in. Curiosity got the best of him, and Draco turned and opened the door to the neighboring compartment, Vince and Greg tagging along behind him.
“Well, look who it is,” said Draco, a smirk twitching at his lip. “Potty and the Weasel.”
Greg and Vince chuckled trollishly.
“I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley,” he said. “Did your mother die of shock?”
The Weasel stood up so quickly he knocked a basket to the floor, and Granger looked positively miffed at the action. The older man gave a snort.
“Who’s that?” Draco asked, getting to the point.
“New teacher,” Potter answered, who got to his feet, too, in case he needed to hold his friend back. “What were you saying, Malfoy?”
Draco’s pale grey eyes narrowed; he wasn’t fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher’s nose, although apparently Potter was. Though somehow Draco was sure it would end up being his fault being in Slytherin and all.
“C’mon,” he muttered resentfully to his two companions, and they backed out of the compartment. Draco walked on with Vince and Greg down the corridor, back on their mission, and once they spotted Millie in the hall, he quickly bowed out. Draco returned to the compartment, his two friends still in the same attitudes they had been when he left.
The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks.
“Huh? Are we there?” Theo jolted awake, moderately disoriented.
“I don’t think so, we can’t be there yet, I’ve only just finished with my magazines, I haven’t even painted my nails yet!” Pansy whined.
“No, we’re not there yet,” Draco said mostly to himself as he attempted to peer out the window.
“So why’re we stopping?” Theo got up to look out the window too, followed by Pansy.
The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows. Draco turned to look out the compartment door to see if anyone else knew what was going on. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.
The train came to a stop with a jerk, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.
“Nobody move,” Pansy whispered, grabbing the chest of Theo’s sweater with her fist as that was the last thing she had seen before the lights went out. The two of them sat down on the seat directly behind them. “Okay, Draco, we’re both sitting right next to the window, if you sit in whatever seat is closest to the door, we shouldn’t trample each other,” she directed.
“D’you think we’ve broken down?” Theo whispered, swiping his hand over the frost-covered window trying to get a better look.
It felt as if the train carriage had dropped another ten degrees in the last two minutes. Draco was sure if he looked hard enough, he could find icicles hanging around somewhere.
“I think someone’s coming aboard,” Pansy whispered in panic, grabbing onto Theo’s sweater even tighter.
Draco didn’t respond. He had dropped into the seat closest to the door, and as it clicked open, he felt entirely empty, frozen. A cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling pushed open the door. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water…
But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed the contents of the compartment watching it, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.
And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.
An intense cold swept over them all. Draco’s breath caught in his chest, and a violent shiver roiled down his spine, shaking his entire body. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart...
Nothing mattered anymore—not his marks in school, not his friends’ drama, not his parents separating, not even Granger. None of it made sense. Why even try? Granger always gets the best grades, who cares who comes in second to her, I might as well be last if I can’t be first. She doesn’t care about me anyway, best not to try at that either. I could always try things with Pansy, but Pansy will go back to Blaise—they need each other, I know it. And Theo will find a way to win back Daphne and I’ll be left all alone again. Alone and empty. Maybe my parents will just lock me up in the dungeons for being such a miserable failure—that is, if they don’t die after the next big fight and separation. Maybe I could just leave instead, that would solve their problems, I just know it. I’ll disappear and no one would ever come looking for me and I’ll just be alone forever…
“Draco? Draco!” Pansy slapped him across the face, and the blonde pulled out of his trance.
The lanterns above his head had flickered back to life, and the compartment door was tightly shut. It was still unbelievably cold in the carriage, but not as unbearable as it had been only seconds earlier.
“Are you okay, mate?” Theo asked, his own hands still trembling.
“I-I think so, what about you guys?” He checked both of his friends over. No one seemed physically harmed, but mentally—Draco was totally fucked up in the head.
“I heard screaming…a lot of it—“ Theo started to say, but stopped when he saw the look of horror o. Pansy’s face. “I think I heard my mum,” he finished softly.
“Oh Theo,” Pansy flung her arms around the lanky boy’s neck tightly, nearly cutting off his airflow. Draco attempted a smile, but the movement felt foreign on his face after such an intense darkness had pierced him.
“I think we can all use a little ‘pick-me-up’ right about now,” Draco said darkly and unwrapped his small package from his mother. It was a chocolate bar, plain and simple, but he tore through the wrapper anyhow.
Theo and Pansy did the same, and they each crunched a large bite, savoring the silky French chocolate melting on their tongues. It was exactly what they needed. Draco thought he would have to write home to his mother tonight, once they finally arrived at Hogwarts, and tell her just how perfect her little gifts had been.
“We should be at Hogwarts in about ten minutes,” Draco guessed by the landscape rolling past them.
They didn’t talk much during the remainder of the journey, and at long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station. There was a great scramble to get outside—owls hooted, cats meowed, and toads croaked. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.
“Firs’ years this way!” called the groundskeeper. The gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform beckoned the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.
The Slytherins followed the throng of chatting students onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled by an invisible skeletal horse—or so Theo said. When they climbed inside, a bumbling Neville Longbottom climbed into their carriage as well and shut the door. His look of sheer terror told Draco that the boy might actually faint at the thought of being stuck in a stagecoach with three Slytherins, and it made him chuckle a bit. The coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.
The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw. Draco felt better since eating the bar chocolate, but still a little weak. He was just grateful his friends didn’t notice, or at least didn’t mention it, and Longbottom was too nervous to even look him in the eye. As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Draco saw two more towering, hooded—whatever they were—standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf him again; he leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed his eyes until they had passed the gates.
“D-d-dementors—that’s what the new professor called them,” Longbottom stuttered. Draco just nodded and Pansy sneered. Theo clapped the Gryffindor on the shoulder with a “cheers, mate!”
“Even Harry Potter fainted when one came t-t-too close! D-did you guys see one up close?” Longbottom stumbled on, but none of the Slytherins answered. Instead, they were all keeping close, watchful eyes on the ‘dementors’ above them.
The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle, and at last, the carriage swayed to a halt. Draco exited first, and seeing who was in the carriage behind them, his good mood suddenly returned.
“You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottorn telling the truth? You actually fainted?” Draco taunted.
“Shove off, Malfoy,” said Weasley, whose jaw was clenched.
“Did you faint as well, Weasley?” said Draco a little too loudly. “Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Weasley?”
“Is there a problem?” said a mild voice. The new professor had just gotten out of the next carriage.
Draco gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the dilapidated suitcase. The older man took a deep breath in as if to say more, but instead paused. His golden-green eyes looked like they were almost glowing—it’s like he’s staring into my soul, this needs to stop now. I’ll bet he’s a Legilimens and he’s trying to test my Occlumency barriers! Well nice try, Professor, my might even be sneakier than my mother, but I will not let you in! With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, “Oh, no — er — Professor,” then he smirked at Theo and Pansy and led them up the steps into the castle.
The three of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous Entrance Hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.
The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right—the enchanted ceiling would forever stand out in his memory, which was black and cloudy, reflecting how he felt inside after encountering the dementors. He hurried to his usual seat, and settled in for what was sure to be a dull Sorting Ceremony.
In an unusual turn of events, Professor Flitwick strode to the front of the head table, turning to face the line of First Years that had followed him toward the Sorting Hat.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” The tiny man exclaimed excitedly to the new students. “I will call each of you forward to be sorted into your Houses…”
Draco ignored the standard speech, and looked up and down the Slytherin table. Pansy and Theo had sat on either side of him, and everyone else seemed to be giving them a wide berth—except Vince and Greg. The two large boys sat across from them, and Millie had even scooted closer to sit next to Greg, although she eyed Pansy with uncertainty, as though she would steal him away next.
Pansy squeezed his hand under the table. The Sorting was beginning. When did she start holding my hand? He puzzled through that thought off and on, only catching a few names as they were called.
Bradley, Jacob—RAVENCLAW!
Carmichael, Derek—RAVENCLAW!
Cadwallader, Cornelius—HUFFLEPUFF!
Dorny, Jonathan—RAVENCLAW!
Dunstan, Brittney—GRYFFINDOR!
Draco gently pulled his hand out of hers and placed both of his in his lap. He looked around at the mention of Gryffindor, but he couldn’t see Granger. She had to have gotten on the train—that brainiac wouldn’t miss school if the school itself was on fire!
Greengrass, Astoria—SLYTHERIN!
The whole table burst into polite applause for their first new Slytherin of the year. A tiny, brunette with bouncing curls skipped over to Daphne’s side. The older sister beamed at her and made room so they could sit together. Draco felt Pansy stiffen at his side, but he couldn’t look away. The two Greengrass sisters were exact opposites in their basic features, but somehow looked exactly alike.
Under the table, Pansy had grabbed Draco’s hand again, coming just a tad too close to where she shouldn’t. He cleared his throat and turned completely away from her, pulling his hand away once more.
Stebbins, Athena—HUFFLEPUFF!
Summerby, Christina—HUFFLEPUFF!
Urquhart, Duncan—SLYTHERIN!
Vaisey, Stephen—SLYTHERIN!
Vane, Romilda—GRYFFINDOR!
There was more Slytherin applause as two more students came to join the table back-to-back. Both boys looked like they might make good Quidditch players in a few years, and Draco looked forward to the day he was Captain and would be the one making those decisions.
After the last of the First Years had been sorted, the Hall fell silent. Professor McGonagall appeared, opening the large doors to the Great Hall and walked dutifully to her place at the Head Table, while Granger and Potter slunk in behind her trying to get to their seats as quickly as possible. While Granger could’ve done so unnoticed, Potter drew entirely too much attention, seeing as most of the school had heard from Longbottom’s overly large mouth that he had fainted because of the dementors.
Draco’s attention was again drawn forward as Dumbledore stood to give his Start of Term speech.
“Welcome!” the Headmaster said, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast...”
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, “As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.”
He paused, and Draco remembered his mother and father’s conversation in the hallway early that morning. His mother had said he was working on a ‘special project’ for the Ministry. Was the project about dementors??
“They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,” Dumbledore continued, “and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks,” he added blandly, and Draco wondered why that was explicitly mentioned. “It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors,” he said.
Draco shivered at the thought of coming in close contact with a dementor, and vowed he would never do so again. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.
“On a happier note,” he continued, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.
“First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”
There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Draco scoffed at the man who had so obviously taken Potter’s side before there was even a side to be had. But Draco hadn’t expected anything less. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.
Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring daggers along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but even Draco who already disliked the new professor was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. It was beyond anger—it was loathing. Draco easily recognized it as it was the look Snape wore every time he set eyes on Potter. Usually my favorite look to witness, although now I’m intrigued as to what this new professor has already done to piss Severus off.
“As to our second new appointment,” Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. “Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”
The applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular, erupted throughout the Great Hall. Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.
Draco wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed, shocked, or angry. Who in their right minds would think it’s a good idea to have that-that-that THING teaching STUDENTS?!
Naturally Potter, Weasley, and Granger were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.
He doesn’t even have basic table manners let alone the brain power to actually provide any of use for learning!
“Well, I think that’s everything of importance,” said Dumbledore. “Let the feast begin!”
The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Draco, ravenous from the lack of a proper meal since breakfast, helped himself to everything he could reach and began to eat, albeit with better manners in mind this time.
It was a delicious feast and the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. Draco, Theo, and Pansy piled their plates high with anything chocolate, still trying to come back from their experience on the train. The whole length of the Slytherin table had noticed the cold manner in which Snape had “greeted” Professor Lupin and were all taking stabs at why.
At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart and chocolate muffins had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed. Draco couldn’t agree more, he was tired and needed some sleep before tackling his sure to be overwhelming schedule this term.
The Slytherins trudged to the dungeons, rubbing their arms and quickening their steps as the temperature dropped during their descent. Full from their meals, few students remained in the common room, and the new Slytherin Prefects stayed behind to show the new First Years around the dormitories. Draco and Theo gave Pansy a reassuring wave before turning down their own hallway, leaving her to face Daphne and the other girls alone.
It must’ve just dawned on Theo that he would still be sharing a room with Blaise when he reached for the handle to their door and froze. Draco, having no reason to stand out in the hall any longer, patted Theo on the shoulder and pushed the door open, himself.
When Theo saw that the room was empty, he hurried to his usual bed and closed the curtains, calling goodnight from under his covers. Draco simply shook his head. They’ll have to talk it out eventually. I’m starting to think Theo’s the one avoiding the situation more than Blaise… Vince and Greg joined them shortly after, and sometime between eleven and midnight, Blaise sauntered in, silently closing the door behind him and slipping into his own bed.
The following morning, Draco received a note on his nightstand. It was in McGonagall’s curling script.
Mr. Malfoy,
As of last term, I have received your request to take an overloaded term. You and one other student have been permitted to do so based on your academic achievement in previous years, and your ability to balance your studies with other school activities such as Quidditch.
Please report to my office this morning at seven o’clock, do not be late, and tell no one of this meeting nor the nature of it.
Deputy Headmistress,
Minerva McGonagall
Draco cast a tempus charm, and noted that it was nearly a quarter past six. The early morning sun had woken him as it usually did at Hogwarts—while it was useful to not need an alarm usually, it did make enjoying a lie in, well, enjoyable. He got up quickly and dressed somewhat respectably, since he would be meeting with McGonagall of all people.
Hurriedly, he brushed his teeth and smoothed his hair. It was nearing twenty ‘til when he grabbed his wand and made the ascent back up the many stairs. Reaching the top step, he turned down the corridor to McGonagall’s office and rapped twice on the door. He was a few minutes early, but surely she would appreciate that type of punctuality.
He waited for a few moments, but heard nothing on the other side of the door. Thinking maybe he had missed her response, he tried the door handle and found it opened easily. He entered the office and looked around—there was no one there.