A New Chapter at Hogwarts [Drarry] ✔

Chapter 42: Anchors in the Storm

Monday had arrived with a bittersweet sense of duty. Draco had hardly stepped out of his chambers before Minerva intercepted him, her face softened by a rare gentleness, a look of purpose in her steady gaze. She led them toward her office, and Draco followed her, his stomach twisting in a blend of apprehension and anticipation. As they settled into the quiet space, Minerva reached for a pair of teacups, pouring with an elegance that seemed to reflect her composed personality.

"Draco," she began, her voice softer than he'd expected, a warmth woven into her usually precise tone. "I wanted to speak to you privately, before you resumed your classes today." She set a cup before him, the steam curling between them as she lifted her own, pausing briefly before meeting his gaze. "I understand that the recent news surrounding you and Professor Potter... well, it was certainly unexpected. But I want you to know that this does not change the fact that Hogwarts will fully support you both."

The relief that flooded Draco was as immediate as it was overwhelming. His grip tightened around the delicate porcelain teacup, the heat grounding him as he absorbed her words, letting them settle into the lingering spaces of doubt that had shadowed his thoughts. "Thank you, Professor," he managed, his voice filled with genuine gratitude, though tempered by an uncertainty he could barely voice. "I... I wasn't sure how everyone at Hogwarts would respond to all this."

Minerva's lips curved into a slight, understanding smile, her gaze never leaving his. "I know this must be challenging, Draco. Public scrutiny is an uncomfortable bedfellow, and I won't pretend that Hogwarts' walls will shield you completely. But you both deserve to embrace this openly, should you choose. If any issues arise, be they from staff, students, or otherwise, I want you to come directly to me. You have my endless support."

Draco felt the warmth of her words curl around him, easing a tension he hadn't realised was locked so tightly in his chest. Her steady presence, her open acceptance—it was more than he could have hoped for, more than he thought possible. She gave a brisk nod, her eyes softening as she lifted her cup in a gesture of quiet solidarity.

"It's a new journey, Draco. And I think we all deserve a bit of happiness... especially after all we've endured."

Draco's voice was quiet, a rawness beneath his words as he held her gaze. "Thank you, Professor. That means more than I can say." He lifted his teacup in acknowledgment, sealing the unspoken understanding between them, feeling a newfound sense of belonging settling in his chest, a quiet reassurance that no matter what came, he wasn't alone in this.

Minerva nodded, her expression unreadable yet kind, and with that, he left her office feeling an anchor take root within him, a silent promise of strength as he navigated the uncertain waters ahead.

That evening, after finishing his lessons for the day, Draco returned to his quarters, intending to ready himself to floo to St. Mungo's. As he entered, the soft glow of candlelight illuminated his desk, where a single, elegant envelope lay waiting. Its fine parchment and deep green wax seal bore his mother's familiar, graceful script. A flicker of surprise ran through him as he picked it up, feeling a faint tremor in his hand as he slid a finger beneath the seal. Gently, he unfolded the letter, his eyes tracing over the carefully penned words with a sense of anticipation

As he unfolded the letter, the scent of parchment and a hint of Narcissa's signature perfume drifted faintly from the page, a comforting reminder of his childhood and the safety of her quiet, enduring presence. The letter was brief, each word chosen with care, yet it held a depth of emotion and significance that washed over him in a way he hadn't anticipated.

My dearest Draco,

I've read the news, and I only have one question: Are you happy? If you are, then nothing else matters. The world is a fickle place, full of judgments that shift with the tide, but your happiness—that is constant, and it is what truly matters. You are stronger than you may realise, my son. Stand firm, and do not let the noise distract you from the life you wish to lead.