"Mr. Malfoy, it's so nice to see you in my office. First time this year, I believe." McGonagall smiled at the blond professor as he made his way into the place he'd been trying to avoid for years now. He gulped, and sat down in front of the headmistress nervously, picking his fingernails, and then frowning, as he'd never realized he did such weird things when nervous.

"Good evening, ma'am." He did a polite bow, and then allowed a neutral expression to cross his face.

"As I'm sure you know, I have meetings with my professors to make sure everything is going well in the classroom. Students are our priority here at Hogwarts, after all. Are you comfortable here?" The woman asked, folding her hands on the desk in front of her.

"Feels just like it did back when I was a student." Draco claimed, tight-lipped.

"And is that a good thing?"

"If you want an honest answer, McGonagall, I think it'd be best if you got yourself comfortable, because we might just be here all night." He meant it as an aggressive statement: signalling her to stop talking, but instead she shrugged her shoulders and leaned forward in her chair slightly, appearing more comfortable.

"Seeing as tomorrow's the weekend, a Hogsmeade weekend in fact, I believe the two of us have more than enough time. So, tell me what's on your mind." She stated, and his mouth opened slightly in surprise.

"I didn't think you'd actually want to listen." He admitted, a light pink tint crossing his cheeks.

"Why wouldn't I want to listen to a staff member? You matter here just as much as anyone else, Mr. Malfoy."

He sighed, crossing one of his legs over the other, and made himself more comfortable. Seeing as this woman was willingly listening to him, he figured maybe it'd be nice to talk a bit.

"Not to sound like a prat, but I miss my mother. My father's in Azkaban, and my mother's all alone. It's not very fair to her, in my opinion. She lost her husband to the Ministry, had her sister murdered, and now her son's far away, teaching some privileged little brats at a school that her son had complained to her multiple times about. I've got practically a toy wand, seeing as I'm so limited to what it can do. Sure, I'm teaching a subject I'm quite fond of, but I'm in my deceased godfather's realm, and am reminded of him every day. Where I rest my head is where he used to. The students all hate me, and favor perfect little Potter. Everyone favors him; even you favor him. I feel alone, and I cannot believe I'm telling you this because that's just rubbish that I'm trusting a bloody Headmistress with my troubles. This is pathetic, I'm pathetic." He sighed, concluding his rant and placing his head in his hands. The Headmistress frowned, and contemplated brewing him some tea. The more she looked at him, the more exhausted he looked.

"Mr. Malfoy, you know you could trust me with anything alright? It helps to get this stuff out from time to time, and you definitely sounded like you needed it. You're not pathetic. In fact, if I'm quite honest, you sound like most professors during their first year teaching here. Everyone has insecurities, and you sound like you've had yours suppressed for far too long. And if you feel like you cannot trust me with such information, I'm sure someone else can understand where you're coming from." She stated, feeling incredibly sorry for the boy.

"I hope you're not suggesting I start sharing all my deepest, darkest secrets with Potter." He sneered, and the woman smirked.

"That was not what I was insinuating, but if that's the path in which your mind decided to take, maybe it wouldn't hurt to talk to him."

"In case you haven't noticed, Professor, Potter and I despise each other. We could never be friends. That's absolutely ridiculous!"

"If that's what you'd like to believe, so be it. Now, was there anything else you'd like to discuss, because if not, I believe the kitchen elves are preparing a roast tonight, and I'd quite like a portion or two of that." She smirked, and the blond shook his head.

"Enjoy your meal, Professor. I wouldn't wanna hold you up." Venom slipped from his tongue, though he didn't really care. He'd just spilled way more information with the woman than he should've, just to be told he should talk to the spectacular Harry Potter. Who did she think he was?

~△⃒⃘~

Draco Malfoy didn't attend dinner, and had instead decided to meander around the castle while it wasn't crawling with students. It had a bit of a chill to it this time of year, seeing as winter was just around the corner, and the outside world was just dropping off its last few leaves of Autumn. To him, it looked as though the rest of the world was dying, but as he made his way past the Great Hall, he found that the room sounded more lively than other.

After supper had ended, and the students were sent to their houses for the night, Draco found himself still walking aimlessly. Why he didn't go back to his quarters and catch up on some much needed rest, he didn't know. It was nice to walk. Walking was a much better alternative than being confined to a small space, where he could only pace, much like his father.

He listened as the ghosts roamed around the castle, jumping through paintings, startling the artwork. He heard Peeves disabling the armored knights, and scattering their metal along the moving staircase. And then, he heard a shout of annoyance, and froze in his step, listening.

"Could you not go through my bloody stuff, Peeves?" It was Potter. When he turned the corner, he found the troublesome poltergeist to be hovering just out of Harry's reach, a broomstick and cloak concentrated to his translucent fingers.

"You'd better find a new spot to hide them, Professor." The poltergeist smirked, sticking out his tongue and spinning in circles. In distress, the messy-haired lad threw a hex towards the ghost, but of course it went through him and hit a torch instead. He shouted in anger when the torch fell, and extinguished the flame before the fire could spread.

"You're gonna hurt someone!" Draco called then, leaning against a pillar with a smirk on his face.

"He won't give me my stuff back." Harry claimed, glaring at the poltergeist who had started singing some terrifying rendition of 'Poor Unfortunate Souls.'

"Well, you do realize he's here to antagonize, don't you? And what could possibly be so important that you can't handle a bit of teasing?" The blond asked, stepping from the shadow, grey eyes focused on the green-eyed wizard with slight interest.

"The cloak. It was my dad's. And the broom, that's important too." Harry explained, foolishly attempting to jump to reach the ghost.

"That shabby thing belonged to your dad? I would've donated it to a Goodwill or something. You can't possibly enjoy wearing it." He mocked.

"Perfect Potter wears the local trash!" Peeves cheered, taking victory laps around the corridor.

"It holds special sentiment to me, Malfoy. Not that you'd understand sentiment, anyways." The dark haired boy spat, and placed a levitation charm on his feet so he could fly after the spirit. Draco narrowed his eyes then, not liking the way the spoiled brat could just assume things. He attempted to hex the lad, but found that his wand only made a funny noise instead. He could vaguely recall Shacklebolt telling him that attempting to bring harm to any other witch or wizard would result in only dud hexes. He cursed silently, and glared at the two as they flew around the corridor.

"I have feelings, Potter. You just don't get to see them." He called smugly, and found himself shocked when the green eyed wizard flew down to stand in front of him then, ignoring Peeves' taunts.

"Is that why you cried like that to me on the first day of classes?" He asked, a confident smirk on his face. When it came to these two boys, everything they did to the other was ruthless.

"I may be forbidden to use magic to harm you, but I swear I'll kill you with my bare hands!" The blond exclaimed, and lunged forward, knocking the dark-haired wizard off his feet as things turned into a wrestling match. They scratched at each other, yanked the other's hair, and even threw a few punches.

In the midst of the commotion, Peeves stopped flying and dropped the cloak and broomstick to the ground, laughing as he watched the professors fight. Surprisingly, no teachers came to break them up as they had when they were students, and after awhile, the boys found this wrestling to be pointless. They stood, adjusted their clothing to look somewhat decent, and Harry moved to grab his belongings, glaring at the blond. He turned toward the poltergeist, an angry look on his face, and spat the blood from his busted lip.

"Take my stuff again, Peeves, and I swear you'll be banished." And then, he threw the cloak over his shoulders and Draco watched in amazement as the boy disappeared. People couldn't Apparate in Hogwarts, could they?