Chapter One | Don't Stop Believing

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Don't Stop Believing, by Journey

Darkness crept over the horizon as Draco Malfoy stared out the window of the Hogwarts Express. Though he liked the dark and preferred it to broad daylight, it was unusual for the sky to be this dark, this fast. The sun set, fading into a barely noticeable hue until there was no trace of the once beautiful sunset. The moon now stood as the only light, just barely illuminating the passing landscape. It was almost full, but didn't give off as much light as usual. The absence of light caused the trees and passing objects to look like dim shadows. Draco's glare grazed the landscape as he admired the scenery. He'd seen the sight time and time before but it still comforted him in some small way.

   With a sigh, Draco laid out across the booth. Pansy and Blaise had left only moments ago and Draco had sent Crabbe and Goyle with them. Though Draco was often in their company, even he needed time away from those two. Crabbe and Goyle were loyal but they were far from friends. They followed him because of his family's name and his father's power. The same for Pansy and Blaise. Zabini questioned too much and Pansy fawned over Draco every chance she got. It was far from flattering. Draco needed time to clear his head. But it was near impossible to think with any one of them near. So for the time being he sent them away.

At the top of that list of thoughts was the beginning of their third year, his third year. Draco winced and closed his eyes. Another year of hatred and rejection. He sighed, thinking back to his childhood. When Draco was younger, his aunt Andromeda would tell him stories of Hogwarts. She told him of the friendships and families made between the students and teachers alike. But Draco had seen nothing of which she spoke of. Maybe amongst the other houses, but not in Slytherin. Slytherins separated themselves from the rest of the school and isolated the house, but they were far from a family.

Draco rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger while groaning. He had rarely been able to see his aunt, but when he did, he enjoyed and looked forward to her stories. He wanted to feel that sense of home his aunt spoke of. The Malfoy Manor had never been much of a home, and he had never had much of a family. Draco had looked forward to having that. Friends, a place to call home, family. In fact, Professor McGonagall's speech at the beginning of their first year had given him hope. 'Your house will be like your family', she'd said. But for Slytherin it was different. A Slytherin could never have that, and because he was a Slytherin it meant that he couldn't.

It had always been expected that Draco be sorted into Slytherin. The entire family had been. He had hoped there was a chance he was different, but the hat barely touched his head before it made its decision. He had been destined to be a Slytherin. Draco winced at the memory and raked his fingers through his hair. It fell messily across his forehead and he buried his face in his hands. Draco could hear the hat's booming voice as it determined his fate, sending him into a cold, dark void for which he could not escape. Draco scoffed at the irony. Their dorms were in the dungeons for Merlin's sake.

   With a sigh, Draco scrubbed his hand across his face and shook his head. He'd never forgot the day he first entered his dorm. Everything had succumb to the darkness and smell of musty, damp dungeon didn't compliment the anterior design. That wasn't the first time Draco had to live under someone else's preferences either. Draco didn't have any say in the course of his life. The Sorting Hat had decided who he was meant to be when it put him in Slytherin. From that day forward he had become cold hearted and indifferent. Just like his father. His father dictated every aspect of Draco's life anyways, why not become just like him?

A screech filled the air, and with a jerk the train came to a halt. Cold, was the only thing he felt as a frost traveled along the glass of the compartment's windows. The lights flickered hazily for several minutes before going out completely. Draco sat up and froze as the room suddenly became eerily dark. The windows inside began to freeze over with a thick layer of ice. Draco's breath hitched as he saw a tall, dark shadow pass by the door to the compartment he was in. He felt his heart stop when the figure stopped outside the door and turn. Seconds later, needle-like fingers reached forward, curling, and coaxing the door open. Draco swallowed, trying to keep from whimpering.

Fascination|𝐴 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 (𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚛 3, 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔 1)Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora