DRACO
I return to my compartment, where Goyle, Pansy, and Blaise sit there in stony silence.
"Darling, where have you been?" Pansy purrs slowly, drawing out the words.
I shudder silently. In the summer, my mother agreed with Pansy's parents the best way to preserve the bloodline would be with an arranged marriage. It wasn't official yet, but I probably would marry Pansy in a couple of years. I imagine the two of us sitting together in silence during mealtimes, or going out to social events together.
I make a face at that thought, and Pansy frowns. "Dear, are you - "
"Yes, I'm fine," I snap.
"Good," she says. "I'd hate it if my Draco wasn't feeling well!" She pats the seat besides her; I step over and sit besides her, though I put as much space as possible between us.
"Parkinson, shut up," Blaise orders.
"Zabini, you can't tell me what to do!" Pansy hisses back, her face changing with a feral snarl. In an instant, the simpering girl that dotes on me is gone, replaced by a furious Slytherin. Her eyes turn to slits as she glares at him.
"Pansy, calm down," I say.
She mutters something, but finally sits next to me. Too close. I scoot away as fast as I can without being offensive.
When the lady comes by with the trolley, she doesn't speak with the same sweet tone she had always done before.
"You kids want anything?" Her tone is quiet, and she eyes us with a look of deep distrust.
Goyle stands up, and the witch draws out her wand as a reflex.
"I want some chocolate frogs," he grunts quietly. "Please," he adds as she sniffs.
I remember Goyle casting the Fiendfyre, and also his shock as Crabbe died. He was never the same since. Goyle speaks quietly now, and became more withdrawn from the world. I can tell only because I've known him for several years.
Even after casting Crucio on countless innocents and acting horrible, Goyle acts nicer and politer. I didn't understand what it is about a death of a friend that changes someone, but now I do.
When we get off the train, our little group silent, people give us a wide berth and stare. I sneer and shove people, like I have always acted, but my heart isn't into it.
All through the Great Hall, people murmur and point at us, while clapping and cheering for the Golden Trio and their friends. I try not to show how much this hurts me, but it's hard not to when even your own house is clapping - grudgingly, but still clapping.
Only twenty or thirty people are sorted this year, but it seems like hours before McGonagall finishes the sorting and speaks.
"Last year, there was a Great Battle," she says. "This castle has undergone many repairs, but will never be the same. Some places have caved in completely, so do ignore those corridors. Your teachers have been working on cleaning and restoring them this summer, and we expect for the castle to be completely restored in a few months. Again, the official list of magical items banned can be found in Mr Filch's office. Do not go exploring into the Forbidden Forest, either."
I tune her out as I looked at the table where Potter and his friends were. Granger's listening intently to McGonagall and Weasley's drooling on his plate. I roll my eyes.
I can't help but notice that every table has less than half the amount it could hold, but Slytherin holds the least.
Finally, McGonagall finishes. "Let the feast- begin!"
At least the food tastes the same as usual.