Venom and Velvet

The Curse of the Quiet

6. The Curse of the Quiet

Draco made the familiar trek down into the dungeons to the Slytherin common room. He was already tugging his tie loose and unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt to cuff them up when he heard a cough behind him.

Professor Slughorn, who had been appointed Head of Slytherin House after Snape's death, was walking behind him, swaying slightly as though he'd had a little something extra with his pumpkin juice during the feast, and a little too much of that. Slughorn looked up and caught Draco's eye, then hiccupped.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy. I see you've returned to complete your schooling. Very good. You'll find that the dorm arrangements for the eighth years are somewhat different, seeing as the younger ones all already have their own roommates. The listings are posted on the bulletin," he paused, hiccupping once more. "Well, good night, Draco." And with that, he disappeared through a large wooden door.

Draco was curious now. He'd been expecting to be sharing a dorm with the students who had always been a year behind him at school. As far as he knew, there weren't any other Slytherins returning. Granted, he hadn't spoken with any of them since before the Battle, so he supposed he wouldn't know.

Reaching the bulletin board at last, he scanned the dormitory list for his name.

Room 8: Malcom Baddock, Shawn Morris, Simon Dedworth, Neil Lament, Kris Columbiko

Room 9: Draco Malfoy

Room 10: Norman Stacey, Terrance Higgs, Niles Hanley, Damon Gosforth, Gideon Scalby

Draco found himself wondering if what Slughorn had said was the reason he had a dormitory to himself or if it was something else. Maybe parents were afraid to allow their children to bunk with former Death Eaters. Maybe they'd read about him going to Azkaban in the Prophet and written to say they wouldn't allow him to influence their kids. Or maybe it was just as Slughorn had said. Never before had students returned after their seventh year of Hogwarts, so there had never been a need to disrupt the dorm assignments.

He made his way to the door with a silver 9 and stepped inside. It looked just it always had, except now it was not filled by Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, and Pike. He closed the door behind him quietly and sank onto his old four-poster. The emptiness gnawed at him.

Draco shook his head, trying to keep away the memories he knew would come to haunt him from being in that room. He waved his wand at his trunk and it flew open, its contents sorting themselves into various drawers and cupboards. It was very strange not to hear the other boys bustling around, hanging quidditch posters and discussing their breaks. As small as he felt sitting in that empty room, he felt nothing like when he was just a student before the War. He laid his head on the pillow, not bothering to get under the covers, and fell into a fitful sleep.

Draco was running. It was hot, so hot. There was an orange glow in the Room of Requirement, filling even the tiny cracks between the items stacked to the high, arched ceiling with light. It might have been beautiful if it weren't for the screams coming from behind him and the deafening crackle of the room burning. Then, the screams were drowned out by a great crack. A huge wooden beam fell in front of him and he screeched to a stop, turning around to look for another way out. He was too late. The great dragon's head was coming right at him, the brightness of it blinding him. It opened its massive jaws and swooped in for the kill, growing ever hotter with each centimeter.

Draco sat up, panting and sweaty. He blinked a few times, fumbling for his wand.

"Lumos," he muttered. He peered around the room and snatched a glass from his bedside table. "Aguamenti."

He drank until the whole glass was gone and waited for his breath to return to a normal pace. It was just a dream, it's fine, he thought to himself. Then, he turned his head towards the bed that had once belonged to Vincent Crabbe. It wasn't fine.