Eighth Year (Drarry Fanfic)

Hogwarts Express

"Do you have everything, my Dragon?" Narcissa Malfoy's soft, lilting voice broke into Draco's reverie.

Snapping the lid of his trunk shut, Draco turned towards his mother with a helpless smile. "Yes, Mother. Everything's all set."

Draped in silk robes of regal purple, Narcissa looked almost ethereal with sunlight streaming in from the window, framing her light blond hair like a halo.

"What were you thinking about?" Narcissa walked into Draco's bedroom, gliding across the floor as though she was weightless, and stopped in front of him. Cupping Draco's face in her delicate hands, Narcissa searched her beloved son's shuttered gray eyes. "Talk to me, my love. Don't shut me out."

"It's nothing." Straining to keep his smile intact, Draco reached up and held his mother's hand tighter against his cheek. "I'm fine."

Narcissa sighed dolefully, giving him a soft peck on the cheek. "You'd best head out, the train will be leaving soon. Forgive me, my Dragon, for my inability to accompany you."

Draco laughed softly, shaking his head. "I'm Eighteen, mum. I'm sure I'll live. Besides, it's rather ridiculous making the Eighth Years take the train when we're already adults and can legally Apparate."

Narcissa smiled, pulling him into a hug. "Write me, all right? Just focus on your studies, nothing else. Keep your head down but do not forget your dignity. Make sure to come home for the holidays. And... find your peace, my love. Be happy."

"Of course, mum."

"I will miss you, my dearest."

Burying his face in his mother's fragrant hair, Draco stifled a sob, unable to reply.

* * *

Stumbling a bit as he Apparated into a bathroom stall in King's Cross, Draco swallowed back the wave of nausea that suddenly assaulted him. Regaining his balance, he quickly patted his coat to make sure his trunk, shrunk down to fit into his pocket, was still there. He quickly exited the stall and made his way towards the door but paused when caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

Clad in a sharp gray coat, plain black T-shirt, black jeans, and a pair of black, lace-up leather boots, Draco looked positively Muggle and... bleak. He grimaced. He should've added a splash of colour to his outfit. Well, his pants were green at least. He smiled wryly.

Carding unsteady fingers through tousled hair that had grown quite long over the summer months, Draco was suddenly struck by how different he looked. The sleek, polished, self-absorbed Malfoy persona he'd proudly worn for so many years was nowhere to be found. It was as if he'd shed luxurious dress-robes and had finally revealed the workaday, yet infinitely more comfortable clothing underneath.

He smiled tentatively.

This was him, unmasked, finally freed from his father's shadow and Voldemort's sinister grip. He didn't need to pretend anymore. He didn't need to live up to anyone else's expectations but his own. He could finally breathe.

And he did just that.

Draco took a deep breath and nodded at his reflection, his gray eyes gleaming silver with resolve. It was time to live for himself, make amends, and move on. He turned on his heel and marched resolutely out of the bathroom, making his way towards Platform 9 & 3/4. He had roughly ten minutes before the Hogwarts Express departed.