Babygirl (SEQUEL to Fuckboy - Draco Malfoy)

1. seventh year.

Draco Malfoy insisted he would go to the train station by himself.

It was his seventh year, after all. He knew the way by now.

"Don't be silly," his mother retorted. She wanted to drop him off at the platform, to wave at the train as it slipped away with the other proud parents.

"Nonsense," his father huffed. He wanted to ensure all was taken care of—that the Slytherins were assigned the best car with the best servants and the best seats.

Overruled, Draco agreed begrudgingly. As he traveled by floo to King's Cross, his parents following shortly behind, he scoffed at the ceremony of it all, lacking nostalgia for his final year at Hogwarts and simply wanting it over and done with.

"Come along, Draco," his father ordered as they strode to the barrier between platforms nine and ten. His mother had her hand on his shoulder. They moved through the crowd at King's Cross station, the heavens above watching three white-haired heads peel through a crowd of muggles.

"Nine and three quarters? What the devil-" Draco heard as they reached the partition. He raised half an eyebrow at two obviously muggle parents and a scrawny first year as they looked around aimlessly for the right train.

They aren't going to find it.

They wouldn't find it because his parents—in their pureblooded glory—wouldn't stoop so low as to tell them where it was. His father stopped a ways away from the family and rested two pale hands on a silver gilded staff, amusement twitching at his mouth.

Draco's mother still had her hand on his shoulder. She was warmer than his father by nature, but when she spoke, hell froze over.

"Step aside," she said to the muggleborn child and his parents. There was something in her voice that demanded attention—and the muggles immediately gave it to her.

If it weren't already obvious by the tone of her voice, their appearance would frighten alone. The muggles looked his mother up and down, the father's eyes wide, the mother's brows furrowing in worry, and the muggle-born first year's mouth parted in fear.

The Malfoys glided through the partition, not a single glance sent to the three muggles to the side. When they emerged, Draco was bombarded by noise, heat, and the overwhelming scent of train engine steam.

Draco's father insisted on finding Theodore and Nott Sr., saying he must "discuss business" with Theo's father.

Theodore Nott was the loudest, most unabashedly unhinged human being that Draco had ever known. When he found him on the platform, parting the sea of Hogwarts students, Theo seemed to be giving himself a hernia trying to hold it all in. Theo smirked, twitching beside his father. Draco raised an eyebrow.

The five-minute warning whistle sounded not long afterward.

Draco's mother kissed him on the cheek. "Good luck, Draco."

Draco gave her a kiss on her cheek in return. Then Theo sped walked towards him, grabbed his arm, and dragged his brooding best friend towards the train. Draco's father gave him a half-glance of acknowledgment, mid sentence. It was the only goodbye that Draco could have expected the old man to give. Even for his last year at Hogwarts, his father could never be accused of being sentimental.

"Free at least, yeah Malfoy?" Theo said in Draco's ear. He had both hands on the back of Draco's shoulders, pushing him forward in a death grip of excitement and testosterone.

The path to Hogwarts was no freedom-trail and the train was no oasis. The compartments were prison cells and, already, Theodore was Draco's parole officer.