Harry and Draco Break Hogwarts

Chapter One: New Year, New Draco

The war was over. Life was...okay for Draco. His father was in Azkaban, no one trusted him, but at least he still had his mother. In the months following the Final Battle, Draco had felt searing guilt whenever he thought back to the crumbling ruins of Hogwarts that he had inadvertently caused. His mother had tried to comfort him, but nothing can erase his history. After weeks on barely any sleep, Draco sent out a single owl with a signed parchment for half of the Malfoy fortune. A mere day later, McGonagall came to visit him herself. As soon as Draco let her past the wards, he was enveloped in a warm hug. Taking a deep breath he didn't know he needed, Draco breathed in the scent of the castle he could smell on the elder witch. Tears sprung to his eyes without consent and he hesitantly returned the hug with the same fierceness as McGonagall.

After a moment of silence, she whispered in his ear, "Hogwarts will always be your home."

Before another word could be said she was already turning away with a tight smile, eyes glimmering slightly. With practiced ease, McGonagall reigned in her emotions again and turned to Draco with her familiar disciplinary expression. She thrust an envelope into his hands, one with a very recognizable stamp holding it shut. He remembered when the letter came with the morning owls just a few years ago. Now it felt a lifetime away. His 11-year-old self had been so excited, he had been filled with elation beyond his wildest dreams when he saw the crest on the stamp. That same feeling was bubbling up in him once again. McGonagall cleared her throat before speaking once more.

"I look forward to seeing you on September first, ."

Draco could only nod dumbly in reply. Looking at him once more, McGonagall made her way out of the wards before disapparating on the spot.

Thanks to a very generous anonymous donation, Hogwarts was able to be repaired before the new school year had started. Now it was January. The initial excitement had started to wear off for Draco, but every day still felt like a pleasant dream. While much of the school was still untrustworthy of him, his Slytherin housemates were behind him. And if that wasn't enough to deter any antagonistic action towards the blonde, a stern glare from the Deputy Headmistress usually did the trick. So, everything was okay for Draco. It would be great—if it wasn't for that damned Potter

He was staring at him again. Draco could feel the other's blazing green eyes burning a hole through the back of his head. If Draco was a Gryffindor, he would have turned around by now and shot a stinging hex at the other boy. But Draco was a Slytherin, a snake. And snakes knew when to lie in wait, knowing an opportunity to strike will come. For now, Draco took the opportunity to challengingly stare back at Potter. The boy had already pushed his dinner away and seemed to be ignoring the male weasel's incessant chattering in favor of continuing to gaze at Draco. He saw the female Weasley sitting further down the table. It seems the two had parted ways romantically soon after the war ended. Draco sneered at the dark-haired boy. Bloody Potter. He seemed to have relaxed since the war ended; Draco noticed it the first time he laid eyes on him back in September. He was much more laid-back now, deciding to take the scenic route for now.

Draco scoffed under his breath before turning back to his own uneaten meal. He thought back the letter his mother had sent him that morning. She wrote to him every week now since Lucius wasn't there to scold her for coddling the boy. One section had stuck around in his head and refused to leave.

It's already January and nothing exciting has happened at Hogwarts. That's a first for you, isn't it? Doesn't something fantastic or terrifying usually happen? It must be a boring year for you, Little Dragon...

Ignoring the childhood nickname with practiced ease, Draco instead focused his attention on one particular word. Boring. Was he bored? He didn't think so, but the more he thought about he realized he might not be in a pleasant dream, but an unending one. Frowning slightly, Draco stood up quickly from the table—attracting the attention of his year-mates around him.