6 Privet Drive ( rewritten )

The start of a new life

I rewrote the rewriting dudes :))

After that doomed day, the day when he first got the crushing news, the school year flew past him, like a powerful, thunderous wind shrieking in his ears.

But Draco was stuck. Stuck on the harsh facts. He remained in the past, pondering on the approaching abandon of all magic in his life. The days until the end of term were dreadfully lessening every time he attempted to sleep.

He had to get a grip on himself, as fast as possible. He couldn't afford to go on like this. He was pale as a piece of paper and the dark bags under his eyes only kept growing with every sleepless night. He will never survive without magic. He wasn't able to. Maybe for the muggles, it wasn't a tough life, with all of their clever inventions, but Draco wasn't part of their world. He was a magical being. He needed to let his magic flow freely, not keep it locked tight within. He tried once or twice to maintain a grasp on it and keep it inside his core, but after 2 minutes he couldn't bear with it anymore.

Some things slipped past his well build mask and some people noticed the differences in him. And who was someone that was part of that secluded category of people that observe even the slightest changes? Fucking Pansy Parkinson, a mythic bitch and the gossip queen. And when his year could've not been worse, she began circulating rumours throughout the Slytherin house about him. At least she possessed enough brain cells in her pea-sized brain to know not to utter even a word about him outside the common room. If she dared to, his father would hear about that and she and her family would pay immensely .
He had taken his time explaining to her this, describing all the worst tortures imaginable to a sane being .

After months of struggles , sleepless nights , stressing O.W.L.s and an incident where poor Potter fainted in the middle of the History of Magic exam, hallucinating about someone named " Padfoot" being tortured at the Ministry by Tom , but it all passed after Dumbledore himself came to help him and calmed everything down, the day where he had to face his parents and leave magic behind, finally came . After these horrid months he kind of understood Potter, dark bags under his emerald eyes matching his own .

The young Malfoy never felt so anxious in his entire (16 years ) life, and he was concerned he had shown too much of it. Malfoys mustn't show any form of emotion at all, at least not in public environments. It was a family safety rule. If one can't read your feelings, said one cannot hurt you.

The whole process of packing up all his belongings in his endless trunk, checking every corner of his room for anything forgotten, offering goodbyes to several respected Slytherins and visiting Myrtle for the last time to embarking on the train seemed like an eternity. He wasn't outfitted for this new life, or for nothing happening this summer per se. He studied all important aspects about muggles, muggle culture and muggle behavings, preparing as much as his numb mind was able to take and still function fairly normal, trying to reduce the impact the muggle world may have on him, just as his mother said he should.

After getting on the train, everything went blurry and oddly numbing. He vaguely remembered the rising steam of the train, students chatting around him while the last signal before leaving was heard, but he couldn't remember finding a compartment, stashing his trunk nor the other Slytherins coming in. The ride consisted of awkward conversations about the summer and a strangling tense atmosphere. Why couldn't the journey last as much as the embarking process, giving him more time? Time for what, anyway? Why did he need time? He couldn't remember, but the future was inevitable. Everything went in a flash, and the train arrived at King's Cross, packed with wizards waiting for their children.

An overwhelming rush of nausea hit Draco like a brick. He wasn't ready for this. He knew he wasn't. But it was too late for anything. Why couldn't he lead a normal life, away from the war and death? It wasn't fair. It always summed up to Dumbledore, that manipulative bastard .
The train came to a halt and students started getting off. He got out of the compartment a while after the last Slytherin left. He stopped in the middle of the corridor, staring at thin air, while the remaining wizards went past him. He suddenly felt hyperaware of his surroundings and his chest felt heavy. A weird buzz ringed in his ears, making him feel drowsy and he couldn't breathe. He started hyperventilating, as a million thoughts came and went through his mind. He just wanted to disappear, or go to sleep and never wake up. A sense of hopelessness washed over him and he realised: he was having a panic attack. He hadn't had one of those in so, so long. He tried to remember the spell that helped him to calm down, if not completely, at least until he got to his mother. He cast it with great difficulty while taking deep breaths. Now he could breathe normally. That was good .
He snapped out of it, the buzz still not stopping. The train seemed empty now, no other students insight. He quickly got off just before the engine started and the Hogwarts Express left the station. Moving through the crowd, hardly making any progress because of the constant people he had to dodge, he spotted his mother's silky hair near the muggle barrier. He started making his way towards her, trunk in hand. She was dressed in a fairly short blue dress and heels, looking as stunning as ever, even in muggle clothes. He ran to her and hugged her tightly, whispering a hello. She immediately understood from his shaken look that he was on the verge of another panic attack. She quietly handed him a vial, seemingly out of nowhere, and he drank it, instantly calming down. His mother gave him a loving glance with a tint of pity, then gently took his hand. The two of them started heading to the exit leading to the muggle world with soft steps. They got through the barrier and entered the other part of the station. Abruptly, everything became from the comfortable, safe world Draco knew so well, to the great unknown. New colours, new scents, new places, new people, even new air danced around in the front of his eyes. A completely new world. There are only few things one can learn from just a book, but seeing it with your own eyes change everything. Draco stared at the new world surrounding him. He never dreamt that it could be so .....beautifully strange.

When he was younger he was disgusted by the very existence of muggles. But now, after seeing the world with new eyes, he thought that maybe this whole change won't be that unbearably terrible ...
His mother gently put a hand on his shoulder, a small, shaky smile on her face. She knew too well how this will change their lives in long term, but she was hoping for the best. Her motherly instincts told her to listen to her gut feeling that something bad will happen, but she chooses to ignore them in the favour of her soulmate and son's safety .
They exited the station, sometimes stopping so Draco could observe whatever he found interesting. After a minute or so of walking on the busy street, they stopped beside a parked machine, Draco couldn't remember its name. He wasn't expecting his parents to be able to blend so much in the muggle world. His father sat in the passenger chair, waiting for them. He looked nauseous and anxious, something out of character. Draco got on the backseat, while his mother took the driver's seat, starting the engine. The journey to their new house took two or three hours, Draco couldn't tell exactly, he wasn't allowed to use his wand to cast a simple tempus. How was he supposed to do simple tasks if he couldn't use spells? However, a loud honk interrupted his line of thought. He decided he absolutely hated traffic.
They soon entered a small neighbourhood, with tidy houses and clean porches. It annoyed him to no end how identical the small houses were, a stray one painted blue or yellow rarely showing. How was he supposed to have exactly the same house as some lowly muggles? He deserved far better than a one floored house with only four or five rooms! They came to a halt, stopping and parking the machine in front of the house with the number 6 displayed on the front door. It looked too normal and boring for Draco, a faded white house, with small windows and only a few meters of a garden couldn't compare to their flamboyant manor back at home! He was expecting something better and larger than this. He knew he was thinking like a spoiled, ungrateful brat who needed to learn how to behave, but it still made him cringe at the fact that he will spend all summer there. He understood that the plainer the place they hid, the safer it would be and he knew better than to protest, seeing his mother's radiant features. She was so exhilarated that her beloved family can finally stop needing to worry, a safe place for them being her strongest wish recently .
The interior of the house appeared comfortable and orderly, but too cramped up for him, completely different from Malfoy Manor. He liked it a bit, but not feeling at home at all in there. Then he got to see his room. The room was small and plain, a fairly large window decorating the wall opposite the door, offering a nice view to the small back yard, but still not comparing to his old room. The walls were painted in a light eggshell colour, making the room seem a bit more spacious than it really was. Under the window, a large bed occupied a lot of space, giving the impression that it was the only thing in the room. He put his trunk at the foot of it, opening it to unpack, but he decided that it can wait for later on. He had a fairly large wardrobe, still not enough for all of his clothes, but that will have to do for now. His gaze shifted to the fluffy armchair next to the oak desk and the shelf full of books from home. On the desk stood empty Cowler's cage, his owl being away with a letter for his godfather. Damn, he would miss his room so, so much. He had only around a dozen books and nothing else to do. He wouldn't be able to fly on his broom or practice piano with his mother. It was gonna be a very hard summer for him.

Draco lazily plopped down on his bed with a soft 'humph', heavily reflecting on his new chance to change something about himself. His instincts told him that something would inevitably happen, changing his whole life in the process of it. He didn't know what, how or when anything would happen, but he hoped it will be a good thing. He wondered how long it would take his subconscious to adapt to this sudden change . Then he started questioning everything around him. Was this place really safe from Dumbledore's hands? Were they truly safe? Was leaving magic really necessary for safety? After all, Dumbledore was nuts, no one could deny that, and no one truly knew his real abilities. But did he posses the right to doubt his parents' decision? Tom's decision? He had no clue whatsoever who was right and who was wrong anymore. He couldn't wait for something to occur, as he sensed it arising and crashing him. He queried just how much time it will all need, while slipping in a deep slumber. He didn't know that the something he was expecting happened to be next door, and that it will ring a bell in the close future.