Weakness Guides The Heart

Chapter two

                   

One Year Later.

Hogwarts Express hummed chillingly as it glided throughout the September air; the small crystal raindrops still hugged the wheels and windowsills, slowing the steady rhythm of the ride.

Draco studied the eerie silence of the raindrops; a look of tranquillity transfixed on his face, masking the unsettling dread dripping from his fingertips. He tugged the sleeves of his jumper over his hands, shielding the weeping nails from the eyes of the suspecting spies.

He sat alone in the carriage; the dull echo of his peers penetrating his stomach, sending it pummelling down into the dark bleakness of his body, weighed down by the horrid sense of loneliness; a feeling he'd become far too accustom with.

The sky was forgotten, cowering behind the thunderous clouds consuming the dreariness of day. Sunshine hopelessly seeped passed the grey smoke smouldering the sky, desperate to kiss the flowers below. Their petals were pirouetting to the gruesome snarl of the wind, stems swaying frantically towards the lights of the train; their pleading eyes piercing the shards of the windowsills.

A swift tug of the door swept Draco's gaze upwards; a hateful hiss already fumbling to the tip of his tongue, yet it was rendered by the sight of a moody woman waving a chocolate frog before him.

"Would you like anything from the sweet cart?" She asked dully; her eyes fixated forward, deciding Draco's reply before he could even cohere an answer.

"No, thank you." His words were quiet, uncharacteristically so. The woman turned, just for a moment, to study the boy; a small flicker of confused gratefulness looming within her dark orbs.

Draco had never been so kind.

Steering her head forwards, the woman left, neglecting her manners by carelessly leaving the door open. In a huff, Draco stood; a displeased fury fuelling his feet as he stormed towards the door.

He paused, noticing a strange object fluttering hopelessly on the ground; a broken wing weighing its form downwards, keeping it from its desperate desires.

Draco gently pushed it onto his thumb; the bug barley breathing at the prospect of a human touch, but the boy didn't dare sense its futile fear. He was fascinated by the faltering limp of its wing, crushed by the cart tumbling down the path outside.

He brought his thumb upwards, watching its frozen feet twitch against the warm flesh; his other finger a mere centimetre above its defenceless head.

Something flashed across Draco's eyes; something similar to grief traced the delicate flickers of silver laced within his orbs; a hesitant glimmer of sorrow swam the ocean of his blue eyes, piercing, penetrating the small creature below.

His emotions faded to black, blooming into bleakness; into a stony stare.

His upper finger dropped; the creatures hammering heartbeat halted, trusting eyes forgotten, destroyed, within a single second.

You cannot become attached.

The train stopped with a harsh screech; the excited glee of his peers pounding his stricken heart, forcing his weeping hand to tangle around his robes; a crimson imprint embellishing the smooth silk, tainting its glory before the year had even begun.

Draco pondered a moment, his footsteps weak against the empty echo of the train; a harsh hesitation tangling his shoes together.

His eyes followed his classmates; feet guiding his body towards the daunting glare of Hogwarts. Thick clouds bounded the building, a whisper of smoke kissing the cheeks of every student that passed; a cool gush sending a shiver along their spines, piercing their unsuspecting bodies.

It seemed darker, the usual cheerful glow of the windows dusted with wary steam. Water drops repelled from the weeping sky, sinfully burning the crisp bricks of the building.

Dumbledore's dull laughter still gloomed over the building; the suffering cries of the lives lost anguishing the air, tainting the very path they all forced themselves to follow.

Their new head mistress, Minerva McGonagall, stood solemnly at the brink of the highest step, her melancholy eyes absent of the usual flicker of joy; her adoration of study singed by the fiery memories of a few months ago.

"Welcome." Her head bowed; grey curls twisting into her eyes, shielding her lifeless glee from the students all wide-eyed and eager to indulge in the glory of Hogwarts. "Could all eighth years please retreat to the Great Hall."

Eighth years, the very first; students returning past their 18th birthday to continue their studies at Hogwarts. Following the war, Hogwarts had decided to create a further year for the students who were unable to complete their final year.

Draco was among them.

He sat alone in his seat, situated beneath the green flag proudly fluttering above his head; a snake slithering along the wavering path of its quest.

The other teens, those who had chosen to return, watched warily; wide-eyes wrenched with fear; with seething fury as they studied the blonde whose eyes pierced the carved letters of his table.

DM, PP, BZ, VC, GG.

"Well, students." A voice sang, lingering words vanishing from the air; consumed by the dreary fires gleaming beyond their touch. "Welcome back, although I know many of you hoped you'd never hear those words again. As you know, your 7th year grades are...considered useless, and thus this year is your chance to rekindle your dreams."

Enthusiasm seeped from the man's glistening teeth; his smile crooked, wavered by the speech practiced in his head; the words he really wanted to speak dissolved, disappearing into the unsettling air.

"I'm very pleased to see so many of you here! I've heard many things about you, all good, of course. I am Mister Malcurious, professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, but also, your head of year, so to speak."

Draco's fingers grew tired of tracing tentative circles along the length of the table; the wooden surface concealing his patterns with a patronising sheen, leaving him vulnerable to the words of his professor.

His eyes found the table cluttered with Gryffindor's, every surviving species bravely sat, eyes forward; courageous confidence pillaring their backs; straightening their jaws, keeping their focus concise, unfearful. The other tables bore lesser certainty, the sparse numbers leaving the few remaining Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws glum.

Slytherin was much the same.

"I will be here for each and every one of you, ensuring that you are safe and happy within these walls, which despite being brand-new, look rather battered, don't you think?"

A strained chorus of chuckles crumbled at Malcurious' feet. He continued.

"Don't fear Hogwarts, not anymore. You're here for one thing, and one thing only, which is to learn. I assure you, this year will be much better, for all of you. I promise."