madness ; draco malfoy

ONE

--•--

PLATFORM nine and three quarters was uncommonly quiet this year; the usual hustle and bustle of excited students eager to return to Hogwarts had been transformed into the almost inaudible chatters of concerned parents, and the anxious whispers of the pupils who stood in tight-knit groups, their eyes darting frantically around them. It was no surprise that uneasy mothers and restless fathers were hesitant to let their children go when they knew how easily they could never come back.

Standing beside her parents, Cordelia watched dozens of teary-eyed goodbyes as the children boarded the scarlet steam engine, some running back for desperate embraces which could possibly be their last. Her mother's hand brushed her shoulder gently, and she was pulled into a tight hug.

"You'll write to us, won't you?" Verity Yaxley said, her voice trembling slightly. Her father, Corban, held his wife steady as she began to sob.

"Of course, mother. Every week," Cordelia replied. Corban placed his rough hands on his daughter's shoulders, his hard features softening ever so slightly.

"We're relying on you, sweetheart," he croaked, his gruff Scottish accent cutting through the thick tension on the platform. "Do as you've been instructed, and everything will be fine."

Cordelia nodded her head shortly, and without looking back, she dragged her trunk to the door of the train and stepped inside. Taking a shaky breath, she walked through the cars until she found the compartment that contained her friends. She slid open the door and was met with the familiar faces of her fellow Slytherins; Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Tracey Davis, Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass. The four girls shared friendly embraces, whilst Blaise and Theodore gave her winning smiles.

Sitting in the compartment she could sense that much like on the platform, things had changed since they were last together; there was no excitement in the air as they would chat mindlessly about their summers, no loud bursts of laughter as one of them told a joke, no happiness left in their eyes. They had been forced to grow up, to forget about being children, and been made to face their uncertain futures in an ever-changing world.

"Where's Draco?" Daphne asked, and almost immediately, Cordelia's heart dropped to her stomach. She dug her nails into her palm, trying to distract herself from the uncomfortable feeling.

"Who knows," muttered Blaise. "He's been avoiding me pretty much all summer long; every time I tried to write to him he wouldn't reply."

"Me too," Pansy said. "It's like he doesn't want to speak to me anymore."

Cordelia's brows furrowed; he hadn't told them about receiving the mark.

"I'll go and find him," she said, standing up and leaving her small bag on her seat. As the door slid closed behind her, she realised that she hadn't told her friends either, but that could wait until another day.

Walking through the narrow corridors, she checked every compartment to no avail; wherever Draco was it was clear that he wanted to be left alone. Eventually, there was only one room left at the very back of the last student car. Cordelia noticed that the windows had been blacked out, and as she attempted to slide open the door, it appeared to be locked. Muttering a quiet Alohamora, she quickly slipped inside and closed the door.

Draco's head turned sharply towards her, and Cordelia saw that he had large dark circles underneath his eyes. She refrained from gasping, and instead took the seat opposite him. They sat in silence for a moment, each of them taking in the other's altered appearance.

From Draco's perspective, the Yaxley girl hadn't changed much at all; her bouncy blonde hair was as shiny as ever, flowing in long curls down her shoulders. Her eyes were still an elegant cerulean, framed by long, thick lashes. Her knitted grey jumper was just as flattering as the first time he'd seen her wear it, and her delicate hands were clasped neatly in her lap, making her the epitome of refinement and sophistication.