The Evolution of Draco Malfoy

Potions was a dreaded affair, always have been and always will be.

Only this time, the legendary Professor Severus Snape, Order of Merlin Second Class, war veteran and Wizengamot official, no longer roamed the Hogwarts dungeons as Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House.

This time, it was the god-awful Professor Malfoy, bane of every student's existence, seemingly sent to Earth by Hades himself to torture the young minds of the future generation in the devilry of Potion brewing.

Everybody loathed him, and rumor had it even Headmistress McGonagall, the former Transfiguration professor who had taken the reigns of the school after old Headmaster Dumbledore retired to a solitary island off the coast of Ireland, had long wanted to fire him. He was sulky, cruel, hateful, and he never spoke a word outside his lessons, save for deducting house points; even caretaker Filch was nice in comparison. In fact, the Slytherins themselves despised him, their own Head of House, and had filed many petitions to both the Headmistress and the Ministry of Magic, asking for his sacking.

Professor Malfoy didn't seem to mind, though. He never left the dungeons, not even for meals, which were delivered to him daily by House-Elves. He attended no Quidditch matches even though it was customary for professors to do so; he took no interest in this sport or any other extracurricular activity. He cared for no social etiquette and wore the same shabby robes to class everyday. Nobody even knew how old he was -- his deathly pale features and white blond hair shrouded his true age from even the most perceptive observers, and the best guesses ranged from twenty-five to fifty-five.

Some students believed he hadn't always been this way, that the war ten years ago had changed him somehow. Some suggested he had been a creature of Voldemort, the evil Dark Lord, and had been eternally cursed by his master after defecting to the Light side. Others say he had succumbed to his current state because his lover had broken his heart beyond repair.

But most felt he had always been this way, a despicable shadow of a man who had no part in the Great War other than a helpless spectator.

And maybe, just maybe, they were all correct.

But for now, during days when delicious gossip ran short, they talked about him behind his back, murmuring in hushed voices when his patched black cloak billowed behind him as he strutted past them into his pitiful, gloomy lair at the bottom of the stone cold dungeons. They taunted him from a short distance, made faces at his back, imitated his infamous slouching swagger when his head turned away.

Then one bright autumn day, a war heroine returned to Hogwarts, to honor a favor from Headmistress McGonagall. The students were in awe of her, for not only did she write many of the history books they used for their lessons, she was also in quite a few of them herself. The highly esteemed best friend of celebrity Harry Potter and one of the most brilliant Head Girls Hogwarts ever had, legendary Hermione Granger had come to teach Transfiguration for a year to help alleviate the aging Headmistress' duties.

And it was her unexpected yet very welcome comeback that prompted a chain of events that led to the unfolding of the mystery surrounding the life of their very detested Potions professor...and the rebirth of a man who had once been Slytherin's finest.

Draco Malfoy had evolved once; she will make him evolve again, and this time, all hell would break loose...

...in a good, sort of way.

**

Hermione Granger beamed as the chorus of tumultuous applause filled the Great Hall, and bowed graciously to the cheers of Gryffindor House, her alma mater. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall had just introduced the new Transfiguration professor to the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and it was plain to everyone how popular she already was with them.

"They are thrilled by the mere thought of having you walk down the same corridors as them," Headmistress McGonagall whispered to her, once everyone had resumed seating and commenced eating.

"I rather think they are thrilled at the mere thought of having such a close acquaintance of famous Harry Potter in their mist," Hermione said good-humoredly.

McGonagall smiled. "Perhaps. Though quite a few Gryffindors know your books by heart. You've inspired a good many of them to become bookworms, I'm afraid," she teased her former student, and the both of them laughed.

That's when Hermione noticed an empty seat at the far end of the Staff Table. "Who sits there?" she inquired, genuinely curious, for it was very unbecoming of a Hogwarts staff to miss the Welcome Feast.

"Ah, that's Professor Malfoy's seat, but he never sits there," the Headmistress replied, cutting up her boar's leg on her silver plate.

"Professor Malfoy? You mean Draco Malfoy?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Yes, the one and only. He never leaves the dungeons these days. Well, ever since he came here eight years ago, actually. I pity him, I do, but there's nothing more I can do for him," McGonagall replied sadly. "Some people never manage to conquer their demons."

"It never occurred to me that Draco would be one of those people. He did, after all, choose the winning side," Hermione expressed, a bit vexed at the news of her former classmate.

"Yes, but for a heavy price, was it not? He watched his parents and girlfriend be tortured and killed."

"And he killed their torturers in kind. I thought the revenge would have sated him."

"But he has to live with the knowledge of having blood on his hands. Perhaps the guilt is too much to bear," McGonagall suggested as she ate.

Hermione disinterestedly kicked around a roast chicken drumstick on her plate with a fork. "Perhaps, but Draco Malfoy, Slytherin extraordinaire would not mind being a murderer to further his own goals. It's in his nature. If he felt any guilt at all, it should've been gone ages ago."

"Yes, perhaps it should've."

"So maybe there's more to his demons than guilt."

McGonagall finished chewing and raised her eyebrows at Hermione. "You seem awfully interested in his well-being."

"I am just curious. Ever since the war, hardly anyone's heard about him, not even Severus. He doesn't call or anything. You'd think he'd return to his socialite status after everything cooled down, but he never did."

"Ah, speaking of Severus, how is the man?"

Hermione blushed and averted her eyes from her former professor's face. "He's very well, thank you."

McGonagall smiled knowingly. "He was quite upset, I heard, when you agreed to accept my favor and come teach here."

"He hates it that we have to be apart for the whole year. But I reminded him that it isn't even an entire year and I'd be free to see him on Hogsmeade weekends. I also told him you'd allowed him to visit me here, but you know Severus," Hermione answered, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She knew Minerva hadn't exactly been supportive of her former colleague's relationship with her former student, given their respective age difference.

"Yes, I do know how impossible the man can be. But I do have another reason for wanting him here from time to time. The students...they're getting very tiresome of Draco's lack of liveliness. They've been begging me to sack the poor soul for years. You know, they dread the subject even more than your lot did in your days. I thought perhaps Severus' presence would bring some inspiration back to Draco and the art of Potion making."

"That's very sad, indeed. It's horrible what's happened to Draco."

"Yes, Hermione. Even the Slytherins hate him."

Hermione gasped, taken aback. "That's unheard of, for Slytherins to not deify their Head of House! Do they treat him badly?"

"Not to his face, they don't. But you can't keep kids from bad mouthing their least favorite professors outside the classrooms. Draco knows it too, but he doesn't seem to care."

"The Draco Malfoy I knew loved being popular, especially among his housemates. Despite every horrible thing he ever did to Harry, Ron, and me, I don't think he deserves to live this fate."

"Well, that is disputable. I was never charmed by him like the female population once was, if you'd remember, but I do feel sorry for him."

Hermione sighed. "D'you think it'd be wise for me to visit him tonight?"

The Headmistress looked thoughtful. "Well, he never entertains any company, but I suppose he might not be totally averse to yours. You two did part on surprisingly good terms all those years ago, did you not?"

Hermione nodded in the affirmative. "Yes. We worked with each other a lot during the war, to Harry and Ron's chagrin. I -- I think we even became friends, at some point. I suppose I should've kept in touch with him all these years. But then Severus came along and well...I lost track of things."

Minerva gazed slyly at Hermione from behind her glasses. "I hear falling in love does that to you."

"Minerva!" Hermione cried, evidently embarrassed.

The two of them chatted pleasantly for the rest of the dinner and Hermione did not leave for the dungeons until Minerva had risen and dismissed the students to their respective common rooms to settle down for the night.