By The Light Of A Dying Flame ~ Drarry Fanfic

Chapter 36: Epilogue

On September 1st, 1998, Draco Malfoy boarded the Hogwarts Express for the final time.

Beneath the thrill of returning to his favorite place, to learning and the Giant Squid and Quidditch and constant magic, were pangs of real dread clanging like church bells in the back of his mind. He kept his steel eyes glued to the ground as he climbed the small set of steps, his trunk hovering in front of him and arms tucked rigidly by his side. He found he didn't want to touch anything—to feel the cold metal of the railing, the smooth wood paneling, the brush of a fellow student's robes. Touch would make it all real, and then Draco may shatter. As he stepped into the corridor, warmth washed over him, giving rise to gooseflesh as the silvery fingertips of magic threaded through his curls and trailed across his skin. He took yet another deep breath.

He'd left his mother on the platform, her long white hair cut to her shoulders in soft waves, new lines carved into her pale face that Draco suspected would never go away. She waved at him through the train window as he passed, red lips lifting in a small smile. Around her, children hugged their parents goodbye, friends joined each other in line for the train, trading laughter and stories from their summer holidays. Narcissa stood alone, her black eyes fixed firmly on Draco's progress through the corridor. He'd told her that eighteen years of age was plenty old enough to see himself off to school, but she'd insisted. Really, he didn't have the heart to argue with her; certainly not when she'd held him by the shoulders, one pale hand rising as if to slick back his curls as she'd done every year before. They'd stared at one another, uncertain how to proceed without the penetrating gaze of Draco's father, the tap of his cane a measure of propriety. Narcissa had finally settled on a chaste press of her lips against Draco's cheekbone before she'd stepped back and released him.

Once Draco found himself an empty compartment, he shoved his trunk onto the overhead rack and settled himself onto the bench. His fingers shook as he tapped the window. Narcissa spotted him, coming closer to the train to blow him another kiss. They held each other's gaze for several heartbeats until she inhaled deeply and turned on her heel to weave her way through the crowd of wizards. Draco watched until she disappeared, swallowed by steam and wizard's robes.

He leaned back on the bench, his hands clammy, his fingers slowly going numb. The night before, he'd had the dream again—the one with the train, its icy windows that looked out onto something dark and horrible and indefinable. The nightmares happened more rarely now than they had during the war; but that just meant they snuck up on him, caught him by surprise on the nights when they stole into his brain and robbed him of sleep. The chatter, the laughter, the zap of spells surrounding him now helped ground him—the train in his dream was always utterly silent—but he was beginning to sweat. He rubbed his palms along his trousers before adjusting the hem of his dark green shirt. His eyes stared straight ahead, at the opposite wall, but in his periphery, he could see students filing past the compartment, peering in through the door. Many grimaced when they saw him sitting inside, rushing past as if he might stand up and hurl curses at them if they didn't reach the safety of their own compartments.

Draco decided to look back out the window.

When the buzzing in his brain was starting to become too much, the desire to snatch his trunk from the rack and chase down his mother growing stronger with each passing second, the compartment door shuddered open. Blaise shoved his way inside, followed by Theo, and relief shot through Draco's veins like Felix Felicis. They were both already wearing their wizard's robes, a Slytherin tie peeking out from above their collars. Blaise threw himself on the bench across from Draco, while Theo tucked his bag in beside Draco's trunk and pressed himself against the window.

"Who are you waving at?" Blaise asked, pushing Theo aside so he could join him, his golden eyes narrowed.

"My sister."