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The Thestral-drawn carriage rolled to a gentle halt outside the wrought-iron gates of the castle. The door opened and Drusilla stepped out, one hand gripping her briefcase, and the other smoothing her green pleated skirt. She adjusted her tie, and settled the Slytherin robes neatly across her shoulders. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed wearing them.
The wind tugged at a loose strand of platinum hair, tickling her scarred cheek. She tucked it behind her ear and took a deep breath.
For several long moments she simply stood there, looking up at the castle.
Hogwarts still bore the scars of the final battle. Cracked battlements, patched stone, damaged gargoyles, and fallen watchtowers. Yet the scars didn't look like wounds anymore. Flags waved from every turret. Banners in scarlet, gold, green, silver, blue and bronze streamed in the spring breeze as though the castle itself were celebrating. The building wore its damage openly, almost proudly.
Drusilla's own scars remained hidden beneath long sleeves and high collars. The Dark Mark on her forearm had faded to a ghostly shadow, but it hadn't vanished completely. She kept it covered out of habit now more than necessity. It had stopped burning a few months ago, but it still itched and occasionally ached like a phantom pain.
She no longer felt it necessary to hide it from the public. Everyone already knew what she was, or what she had been. More importantly, they knew what she was now. Most of them, anyway. Some days she still wasn't entirely convinced herself.
Drusilla drew a slow breath, squared her shoulders, and took a step toward the gates which opened in front of her. The rows of gargoyles that had defended the castle so honorably a year ago now stood at attention for her. Even if her contributions had been largely overshadowed, Hogwarts would never forget her.
She still wasn't sure she deserved such a welcome.
Professor McGonagall was waiting for her outside the main entrance, tartan robes immaculate, and silver-streaked hair pulled into its usual bun. The moment she saw Drusilla, her usually severe expression softened in a way that still surprised them both.
"Miss Malfoy. Welcome back."
"Professor." Drusilla inclined her head. "Or Headmistress, I should say. Congratulations."
She nodded. "I trust you've been well?"
"I have." Drusilla's voice was quieter than she intended. "It feels... good to be back. Strange, but good. I'm glad to see nothing's on fire this time."
"Give it time and I'm sure that'll change."
She gestured inside and the solid oak doors of the main entrance parted for them. The women began walking together through familiar corridors. The icy distance that had once existed between them had started thawing months ago, but the warmth still felt strange for them both.
"I must admit," McGonagall said, "I was surprised when I received your owl. Most former students in your position and of your status wouldn't have bothered returning for their N.E.W.T.s. Especially after nearly a year."
"I gave it a great deal of thought," Drusilla replied. "Potter and Weasley are set to receive their Auror licenses in June, and I see them about as often as I see Granger these days. I've grown restless, and I want the papers that prove my potions mastery. More importantly..." She allowed herself a mischievous, self-indulgent smile. "It will be the one thing I can permanently hold over Granger's head. She might be the brightest witch of the age, but I'm still better at potions than her. Intelligence doesn't equal craftiness or cunning."
McGonagall's eyes glittered with restrained amusement. "You were always an excellent student, Miss Malfoy. Your sixth and seventh years notwithstanding. They were... difficult times for us all."
Drusilla's jaw tightened. She wasn't in the habit of making excuses for herself, especially not anymore. "I want to take a page from Potter's book," she said instead. "I want to finally do some good in the world. Besides, Hogwarts is home. Potter was positively thrilled when I told him my intention of finishing my remaining term. He no longer has to keep making up excuses to come back here."
"I'm glad to hear it, and we're happy to have you both." McGonagall's eyes lingered on her for a moment. "You've acquired a rather Ravenclaw air about you, Miss Malfoy. Shall I have the Sorting Hat brought out again, just to be certain you haven't grown a wit beyond measure?"
Drusilla's reply was immediate and dry. "Don't be ridiculous, Professor. I'm still pure Slytherin. Just this morning I kicked a puppy and poisoned a Muggle-born. You should see the way I slither into Potter's bed and wrap my coils around him. There's no doubt that I am quite the dastardly, dark witch."
McGonagall's mouth twitched. "As you say. You are hereby reinstated as Slytherin's third Prefect. Professor Slughorn has already agreed to take you on as his aide. The position is yours for the rest of the school year, as you requested."
Drusilla inclined her head again. "Thank you, Professor. Not only do I want to help in the classroom, but I want to help rebuild Slytherin back into a respectable house again. The kind of house I thought it was when I was first sorted into it."
McGonagall studied her for a moment longer, then asked, almost gently, "Have you any intention of teaching once you graduate, Miss Malfoy?"
Drusilla smirked. "I intend to raise children, Professor. Not teach them."
The Headmistress's stern face broke into a genuine smile. "And how is the father of those future children?"
"Getting into regular trouble with Weasley, as usual. Honestly, I don't know how those two manage without Granger." Drusilla's own smile softened. "He's well. Annoyingly well. Idiot can't stop smiling even when dark wizards are trying to kill him."
"I'm glad nothing's changed then."
Drusilla's voice softened. "And if I have my way, Potter and I should be giving you and Mrs. Weasley grandchildren around this time next year."
McGonagall actually giggled, a short, surprised sound.
"Then in a decade's time they'll be attending Hogwarts. Potter's sense of adventure mixed with my particular morality is sure to turn the castle upside down."
"I'm already looking forward to it," McGonagall said, eyes twinkling. "Have you decided on houses yet?"
Drusilla smiled ear to ear. "We've agreed I don't want Gryffindor and he doesn't want Slytherin. I think we'd both prefer Ravenclaw, actually. Hufflepuffs are a bunch of duffers if you ask me, but ultimately we'll leave it to the children and the Sorting Hat to decide. We'll simply... guide them in the right direction when the other isn't looking."
"Of course," she said with a smile. "The entire staff is eagerly awaiting the wedding this summer. Hogwarts Chapel hasn't hosted a ceremony in nearly a century, but exceptions can be made for The Boy Who Lived."
"What about The Scarred Snake Who Charmed The Boy Who Lived?" Drusilla asked, only half-joking.
McGonagall didn't take the bait. "You will both be welcome, Miss Malfoy. Your teachers have always known where your heart lies even if you didn't. You're a true Slytherin, Drusilla, and I mean that as a compliment."
Drusilla nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Although she'd never been particularly close to McGonagall, she'd had her as a professor since she was eleven. She'd spent far more time with the woman than she ever had her own mother.
They reached the top of the marble staircase. Below them the doors leading into the Great Hall stood open, golden light spilling out, the low roar of several hundred students already at lunch.
"I should report to Professor Slughorn," Drusilla said quietly, "and reintroduce myself to my house."
"You should," McGonagall agreed. "But I suspect you have other plans."
Drusilla glanced toward the Hall. "Granger and Lovegood will be at lunch. I'd like to see them before I face the snakes in Slytherin."
McGonagall's eyes crinkled. "Miss Granger and Miss Lovegood sit on opposite sides of the Hall, I'm afraid. Alone."
"Not for long if I have anything to say about it."
The women bowed respectfully to each other. McGonagall remained where she was, watching with fond curiosity. Seeing a little girl, troubled and wayward her entire life, suddenly all grown up with a bright future still ahead of her.
Drusilla adjusted her grip on the briefcase, feeling the full weight of the engagement ring around her finger, a large emerald with a platinum snake coiled around it, the exact color of her hair. She rubbed her thumb against the enchanted jewel, still unable to believe this was her life now. For a single private moment she allowed herself to daydream.
Professor Drusilla Malfoy...
No...
Professor Dru Potter...
It did have a certain ring to it. After she received her mastery, she could always poison Slughorn and make it look like an accident. The man had been head of Slytherin for nearly half a century. He'd understand better than anyone and wouldn't take it personally.
Though, she would miss the old bastard if he were dead.
Drusilla came to an abrupt halt. "Damn," she muttered to herself. "Is this what the new Slytherin has to look forward to? Kindness? Empathy? Next I'll be baking biscuits for the house-elves with Granger. How the mighty have fallen."
She smiled privately to herself and continued walking down the stairs and through the open doors of the Great Hall.
The space was even more majestic than she remembered. The enchanted ceiling was bright with fluffy white clouds today, and house banners were rippling as though a perpetual wind blew through the rafters. The noise of conversation and cutlery across four massive tables washed over her like something half-forgotten and suddenly precious. It was like stepping back into childhood. This time as a happy child.
Her eyes swept the room several times even after finding what she was looking for.
Hermione sat among the Gryffindors a few seats away from everyone else, reading a giant tome. N.E.W.T. exams were only two months away, and she was so stressed about getting top marks that she had strictly forbidden Ron from coming to see her except on Friday evenings when she'd already be in Hogsmeade shopping.
At the Ravenclaw table, Luna Lovegood sat far away from everyone else. She wore a pair of absurdly large, luminous yellow spectacles shaped like stars that magnified her eyes to comical proportions. She was reading a folded and upside down copy of The Quibbler with complete absorption just like Hermione.
Drusilla's mouth curved. Of course Luna was barefoot.
She straightened her shoulders, ignored the sudden hush that rippled from the Slytherin table, and made a deliberate beeline for the girl with ridiculous glasses and even more ridiculous feathers in her hair.
"Hey, Loony," she called. "Is this seat taken?"
(A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense for Drusilla to return to Hogwarts and complete her N.E.W.T. exams, specifically for her potions mastery. It's both her and Harry's home, Hermione's already there, and I've established that Drusilla and Luna are friends. Maybe Drusilla and Ginny can even make amends after "Lies Beneath the Truth". After the first wizarding war ended, Hogwarts was short staffed, and it makes sense that would be the case here as well. Drusilla being better than Hermione when it comes to potions actually does make some sense considering what we saw in "Half-Blood Prince". Hermione's brilliant and has a near photographic memory, but potions has a lot to do with creativity and ingenuity, which is something she lacks and part of the reason why she was sorted into Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw. McGonagall would also want more tempered Slytherin teachers like Slughorn going forward, and whether Drusilla becomes a professor in the future or not will probably remain up to you.
It would seem that Harry indeed proposed after Christmas dinner at Hogwarts, and the ceremony taking place in the Hogwarts Chapel just seems right to me. I might write about the proposal and wedding in the future, but we'll see. I'm still bursting with ideas after 2 weeks and 25,000 words across 8 stories. Thank you for all the love and support, and I hope you enjoy what's still to come.
All credit goes to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, Who has blessed me with this story and all of you wonderful readers. Thank you, and God bless)