People all along the train were celebrating. The noise would have been heard in every town, village, and cottage they passed if it weren’t for the silencing spells laid around the exterior of the train. It is hard to believe that anyone on that train was not enjoying themselves. The sound was earsplitting and, if anyone happened to stop for a moment or two (which didn’t happen) pain-inducing. Spells rocketed down halls and ricocheted off of walls in closed compartments. Wizard Crackers were being pulled apart and a great, tolling, gong-like sound was heard every hour, on the hour. This was all besides the screaming, yelling, and joyous singing that created a nice, light-hearted undertone for all of this.
Whatever could make the ENTIRE Hogwarts Express celebrate so? Why, a miracle, of course. Something that nobody ever even dreamt to be possible. Everyone had resigned themselves to the coming war…and imminent defeat. But the war had been over within the snap of one boy’s fingers. I know what you’re thinking: Harry Potter saved the day, didn’t he? But no. This is the story of a very different boy. The most unexpected and unlikely hero you could possibly dream up. That is, unless you’re just strange like me. Back on track…No. Harry Potter and his sidekicks were still whispering in corners and holding regular meetings of Dumbledore’s Army to prepare for the coming war.
But one boy knew that no war would actually occur and when one Draco Malfoy appeared on the last day of term in the Great Hall, robes splattered in blood, a triumphant, sinister glare on his face, and an oddly shaped velvet sack (something that looked too terribly like blood for anyone’s comfort slowly seeping through the bottom of which), everyone just stared. Everyone…Except the Golden Trio. Draco was walking swiftly toward the Grand Staircase (most likely to the Headmaster’s office) when he was way-laid by the three self-righteous Gryffindors, a suspicious glimmer in their collective eyes.
Draco stared them down. Nothing could stop him in this. He had a destination set and nobody, especially those three, was getting in his way. They awaited his usual sneers and sarcastic, biting comments. But neither came. He just looked at them, a triumphant and almost amused look dancing in his eyes. This was not the Draco they had known. He had always had his patented, emotionless Slytherin mask firmly in place. They hesitated. A mouth opened…then shut again.
Draco nodded toward them and smiled. Smiled. Nobody, not his friends, not his family, not even his own mirror, had ever seen a smile on Draco’s face. A collective gasp went through the crowd and the Three stepped aside, slowly, two mouths agape, and two brows furrowed in wonder.
Without looking back, he continued to the stairs and climbed them, graceful as a cat. Those in the Great Hall who had seen him followed, keeping a slight distance. During the journey up to the Headmaster’s office, the crowd slowly accumulated more and more spectators, all curious at what was in the sack and what could ever make Draco Malfoy act so different…no…so strange…no…so human…that was it…he was human. And almost everyone there could sense it. Those that could sense it most were the Trio. They were at the head of the group trailing Draco, most curious, and most in awe. They, after all, had hated Draco with a passion for years…was that about to be changed?
A hush fell over the whispering crowd as they reached the large, stone Griffin that marked the entrance to Dumbledore’s office just as a group of teachers rounded a nearby corner and headed toward them.
Draco turned and, without a word, held the sack out slightly to Snape, who was at the head of the group. Snape looked at it quizzically for a moment before his eyes widened with understanding. He looked at Draco, questions in his eyes. Draco just smiled again and nodded his head once. Snape’s eyes widened further, this time with awe and he looked to the sack again. Without looking away from it, he muttered the password to the Griffin and it moved aside, trying not crush anyone in the crowd. Draco turned so that the Trio could see his profile. The hand that didn’t have the mystery sack in it signaled for them to follow.
The tow mouths closed and three sets of brows were suddenly furrowed in wonderment. What was happening? This had to be the strangest thing that had ever happened to them…and they had been through some crazy shit.
The three stepped onto the moving staircase behind Draco. The ride up seemed to last an eternity. Each of them tried to think of something to say, anything, but nothing would come out.
Before they could realize it, the doors to the office flew open and Draco stepped through as if he owned the place. Dumbledore looked at him, questioning but he could find no answers. He leaned his head to the side to look around Draco at the Three. But they just stared at him. Hermione managed a shrug, but they had no more answers than Draco had provided.
Without another moment’s hesitation, Draco walked briskly to Dumbledore’s desk and did the one thing that would finally break the confused tension in the castle. The one thing that would shock a nation. And the one thing that nobody expected someone like Draco to do. He slowly opened the sack in his hand and, with a flourish that was purely Draco, turned it over.
It all happened so fast: Hermione fainted. Ron caught her. Dumbledore jumped up, knocking the shelves behind his desk, causing a deafening crash. Harry lost all color in his face, as did Ron, making his freckles stand out. The whole room, for the briefest moment, ceased to breathe. Dumbledore turned his surprised eyes up to Draco’s. Draco nodded and looked down into the dead, glassy, unseeing eyes of Lord Voldemort. Dumbledore, realizing what this meant slowly reached down and lifted the head.
The war was over. And it’s hero was the most unforeseen being on the face of this dear planet. The one person that nobody would have guessed, even in their wildest dreams. A person, so unlikely, some say that the Gods themselves didn’t see it coming. The hero of the wizarding world…was Draco Malfoy.
***
Ginny sat alone, in the only empty compartment on the train. She had put up silencing spells to block out all the noise and the door was locked to those not welcome…meaning everyone. She looked down, sighed and began to open the envelope in her lap, wondering what in the world it would contain. She took a deep breath and plunged into it. The writing was long, spidery and green. The parchment felt dry against her fingers. She was scared out of her wits.
***
Draco was stifled. Everywhere he looked, there was an eager, half-drunk face, begging for his life story. But he remained silent. He wanted away from them. His Slytherin mask of neutrality was firmly in place, once again. Gods, what is wrong with these people? He asked, looking around him at the Gryffindors that had magically become his ‘best friends’ since that fateful spring day. Colin Creevey was taking pictures of him, wide-eyed with awe and the Golden Trio were standing behind him-Just as those buffoons, Crabbe and Goyle always did… Draco mused.
With one last sigh and an almost imperceptible eye-roll, he stood and walked out the door of the compartment. The people in the hall, moved to either side as he passed, pressing themselves against walls, and doors, staring as he passed. When he reached the end of the traincar, he realized…the Trio were still behind him. He turned around and gave them a look that spoke volumes…If they could only read minds… he thought with a smirk.
“I would like to be alone if you don’t mind.” He said, looking each in the eye, hoping they wouldn’t be their usual, stubborn-as-hell selves. It was a stare-off when he came to the Weasley, but after a few moments, Ron admitted defeat by nodding and turning away, back down the corridor, Harry and Hermione behind him.
Draco heaved a sigh of relief as he slipped through the door and it swung closed behind him. He slowly, carefully made his way through the train, toward the back, hoping for some privacy. A few people stopped on their way to some errand to stare at him, but other than that, the going was fairly easy. He was in the last car, his only remaining hope…unless he just went to the baggage car…but that was below a Malfoy….he would never shame his family…A wide smirk spread across his face.
He came to the last compartment. It was deserted, with the exception of a fiery-red head, bent over a piece of parchment, and a face, contorted with some emotion Draco couldn’t distinguish from where he stood. He sighed, once again and opened the door.
***
Ginny was deep in thought, trying to make her brain move faster and get itself around what she was reading. The compartment door slid open. Her eyes shot up and her hair fell into her face.
***
All Draco saw was two, sparkling golden eyes, peering at him intensely through curling tendrils of flaming locks.
Then, they both felt the train lurch.
Whatever could make the ENTIRE Hogwarts Express celebrate so? Why, a miracle, of course. Something that nobody ever even dreamt to be possible. Everyone had resigned themselves to the coming war…and imminent defeat. But the war had been over within the snap of one boy’s fingers. I know what you’re thinking: Harry Potter saved the day, didn’t he? But no. This is the story of a very different boy. The most unexpected and unlikely hero you could possibly dream up. That is, unless you’re just strange like me. Back on track…No. Harry Potter and his sidekicks were still whispering in corners and holding regular meetings of Dumbledore’s Army to prepare for the coming war.
But one boy knew that no war would actually occur and when one Draco Malfoy appeared on the last day of term in the Great Hall, robes splattered in blood, a triumphant, sinister glare on his face, and an oddly shaped velvet sack (something that looked too terribly like blood for anyone’s comfort slowly seeping through the bottom of which), everyone just stared. Everyone…Except the Golden Trio. Draco was walking swiftly toward the Grand Staircase (most likely to the Headmaster’s office) when he was way-laid by the three self-righteous Gryffindors, a suspicious glimmer in their collective eyes.
Draco stared them down. Nothing could stop him in this. He had a destination set and nobody, especially those three, was getting in his way. They awaited his usual sneers and sarcastic, biting comments. But neither came. He just looked at them, a triumphant and almost amused look dancing in his eyes. This was not the Draco they had known. He had always had his patented, emotionless Slytherin mask firmly in place. They hesitated. A mouth opened…then shut again.
Draco nodded toward them and smiled. Smiled. Nobody, not his friends, not his family, not even his own mirror, had ever seen a smile on Draco’s face. A collective gasp went through the crowd and the Three stepped aside, slowly, two mouths agape, and two brows furrowed in wonder.
Without looking back, he continued to the stairs and climbed them, graceful as a cat. Those in the Great Hall who had seen him followed, keeping a slight distance. During the journey up to the Headmaster’s office, the crowd slowly accumulated more and more spectators, all curious at what was in the sack and what could ever make Draco Malfoy act so different…no…so strange…no…so human…that was it…he was human. And almost everyone there could sense it. Those that could sense it most were the Trio. They were at the head of the group trailing Draco, most curious, and most in awe. They, after all, had hated Draco with a passion for years…was that about to be changed?
A hush fell over the whispering crowd as they reached the large, stone Griffin that marked the entrance to Dumbledore’s office just as a group of teachers rounded a nearby corner and headed toward them.
Draco turned and, without a word, held the sack out slightly to Snape, who was at the head of the group. Snape looked at it quizzically for a moment before his eyes widened with understanding. He looked at Draco, questions in his eyes. Draco just smiled again and nodded his head once. Snape’s eyes widened further, this time with awe and he looked to the sack again. Without looking away from it, he muttered the password to the Griffin and it moved aside, trying not crush anyone in the crowd. Draco turned so that the Trio could see his profile. The hand that didn’t have the mystery sack in it signaled for them to follow.
The tow mouths closed and three sets of brows were suddenly furrowed in wonderment. What was happening? This had to be the strangest thing that had ever happened to them…and they had been through some crazy shit.
The three stepped onto the moving staircase behind Draco. The ride up seemed to last an eternity. Each of them tried to think of something to say, anything, but nothing would come out.
Before they could realize it, the doors to the office flew open and Draco stepped through as if he owned the place. Dumbledore looked at him, questioning but he could find no answers. He leaned his head to the side to look around Draco at the Three. But they just stared at him. Hermione managed a shrug, but they had no more answers than Draco had provided.
Without another moment’s hesitation, Draco walked briskly to Dumbledore’s desk and did the one thing that would finally break the confused tension in the castle. The one thing that would shock a nation. And the one thing that nobody expected someone like Draco to do. He slowly opened the sack in his hand and, with a flourish that was purely Draco, turned it over.
It all happened so fast: Hermione fainted. Ron caught her. Dumbledore jumped up, knocking the shelves behind his desk, causing a deafening crash. Harry lost all color in his face, as did Ron, making his freckles stand out. The whole room, for the briefest moment, ceased to breathe. Dumbledore turned his surprised eyes up to Draco’s. Draco nodded and looked down into the dead, glassy, unseeing eyes of Lord Voldemort. Dumbledore, realizing what this meant slowly reached down and lifted the head.
The war was over. And it’s hero was the most unforeseen being on the face of this dear planet. The one person that nobody would have guessed, even in their wildest dreams. A person, so unlikely, some say that the Gods themselves didn’t see it coming. The hero of the wizarding world…was Draco Malfoy.
***
Ginny sat alone, in the only empty compartment on the train. She had put up silencing spells to block out all the noise and the door was locked to those not welcome…meaning everyone. She looked down, sighed and began to open the envelope in her lap, wondering what in the world it would contain. She took a deep breath and plunged into it. The writing was long, spidery and green. The parchment felt dry against her fingers. She was scared out of her wits.
***
Draco was stifled. Everywhere he looked, there was an eager, half-drunk face, begging for his life story. But he remained silent. He wanted away from them. His Slytherin mask of neutrality was firmly in place, once again. Gods, what is wrong with these people? He asked, looking around him at the Gryffindors that had magically become his ‘best friends’ since that fateful spring day. Colin Creevey was taking pictures of him, wide-eyed with awe and the Golden Trio were standing behind him-Just as those buffoons, Crabbe and Goyle always did… Draco mused.
With one last sigh and an almost imperceptible eye-roll, he stood and walked out the door of the compartment. The people in the hall, moved to either side as he passed, pressing themselves against walls, and doors, staring as he passed. When he reached the end of the traincar, he realized…the Trio were still behind him. He turned around and gave them a look that spoke volumes…If they could only read minds… he thought with a smirk.
“I would like to be alone if you don’t mind.” He said, looking each in the eye, hoping they wouldn’t be their usual, stubborn-as-hell selves. It was a stare-off when he came to the Weasley, but after a few moments, Ron admitted defeat by nodding and turning away, back down the corridor, Harry and Hermione behind him.
Draco heaved a sigh of relief as he slipped through the door and it swung closed behind him. He slowly, carefully made his way through the train, toward the back, hoping for some privacy. A few people stopped on their way to some errand to stare at him, but other than that, the going was fairly easy. He was in the last car, his only remaining hope…unless he just went to the baggage car…but that was below a Malfoy….he would never shame his family…A wide smirk spread across his face.
He came to the last compartment. It was deserted, with the exception of a fiery-red head, bent over a piece of parchment, and a face, contorted with some emotion Draco couldn’t distinguish from where he stood. He sighed, once again and opened the door.
***
Ginny was deep in thought, trying to make her brain move faster and get itself around what she was reading. The compartment door slid open. Her eyes shot up and her hair fell into her face.
***
All Draco saw was two, sparkling golden eyes, peering at him intensely through curling tendrils of flaming locks.
Then, they both felt the train lurch.
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