Last Train Home
Title: Last Train Home, Chapter 2: The War, Continued
Author: Lyndsie Fenele
Rating: All Ages/Not Naughty
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: A story of one generation, still feeling the aftermath of a war not their own, and of the parents who love them.
Author's Notes:: Mostly completed before HBP, but inaccessible for several years due to my own idiocy (dumping water on my laptop). I am finishing it now. For a never-going-to-happen spinoff of this story, see here.
Chapters: Undetermined.
Despite the Spanish girl's story-her name turned out to be Ofelia Roberts-the two other boys didn't seem to shun Toby like he expected. Instead, they plied him with questions while testing a variety of sweets that they had bought. Once they got past their initial shyness, they wouldn't stop talking. It wasn't until they were on their way to the castle in the boats that the awe once again overtook them. Toby felt a knot of nervousness in his stomach.
The chatter from the Great Hall died as the new students entered. A few calls from older siblings or friends rang out, but died quickly as Deputy Headmaster Flitwick stood up on a chair with a long piece of parchment. To the surprise of nearly all the first years, the hat began to sing. It explained its purpose and a bit of what it looked for in the students for each of the houses. Toby figured the hat would put him in Slytherin because that was the house all his family had been in, according to Ofelia. He had even heard his father, who rarely spoke about the past, speak about some of the better times in the Slytherin common room. Looking over at the table, he thought the students looked an all right bunch, although much less vocal than the Gryffindors. He started as he saw the Slytherin banner, and realized that it probably explained why there were so many snakes all over his house.
Cotton, Joseph was one of the first students called. He was the first to be sorted into Ravenclaw and received loud applause. David Griswold followed not shortly after. There were not that many students in this class, and Ofelia whispered to him that it was because the birth-rate had dropped during the war. The hat took a few moments to decide before shouting, "HUFFLEPUFF!" There was a Kinsey and a few L names before the small professor squeaked out "Malfoy, Tobias." He was so nervous that he hardly realized the whispers that his name had provoked. He sat on the cold stool, and the hat dropped down over his eyes.
"Hmm," he heard a voice mutter in his ear. "Another hard one. That's been happening a lot in the last years. War tends to bring out unexpected qualities in everyone. Ah yes, I can see that Slytherin would suit you… except I doubt old Salazar would have like your openness to new ideas… no… hmm Gryffindor might want you…" The hat paused for what seemed years. "No, too prone to thinking before acting, but then maybe Ravenclaw?" Toby waited with bated breath. "I don't think you quite fit there either, you've got the brains but not the will. Hmmm…" The hat was silent for another few moments. "Well, son, I daresay you'd do well in any of the houses. So really, I think you're best put in HUFFLEPUFF!"
Toby was rigid with shock. As he shakily pulled off the hat, he noticed that he wasn't the only one. The older Hufflepuffs were looking at each other with confusion, but began to clap politely as he approached the table. He sat down next to David, his mind blank from the shock. He had really expected to be put into Slytherin. He couldn't imagine what he was going to say to his father.
"You look like you just saw a ghost," David said, but upon looking at the Fat Friar, corrected himself. "Well, you look shocked. What's wrong?" Toby just shook his head slightly. He was brought out of his state when wild cheering broke out from the Gryffindor table as Ofelia approached and plopped down.
There was even more whispering when Emily was being sorted. The hat took a while with her too, but eventually settled on Gryffindor. The table went mad. There were a three more Hufflepuffs that joined the ranks: two girls named Lucy Smith and Deborah Travers and a boy named Damon Walsh.
The hat only took a few seconds to sort Simon into Gryffindor. The table again went crazy. It only took three days before Toby heard the story of the Weasley twins' escape from Hogwarts, though he doubted the part of the story where they had demolished the front of the castle and left a trail of firecracker-like sparks in the wake of their brooms.
It was also only a few days before he was face-to-face with Simon in Herbology. He and Emily had partnered up for the lecture, and he had been left without one because Lucy and Deborah had partnered as had David and Damon. There were more than twice as many Gryffindor first years, and after a few moments discussion, Ofelia came over to team up with him. She seemed to be on friendly terms with the other Gryffindors, but also seemed to be oblivious to the stares she was receiving from her housemates for talking to Toby.
Simon was doing his best to be rude to and to ignore Toby at the same time. It was almost humorous to watch. Ofelia and Emily shared concerned looks at his behaviour, but did nothing. Toby tried his best to be polite, but it was hard when Simon was taking turns either ignoring his requests to pass the tools or purposely flinging dirt at him and pretending it was an accident.
On the brighter side, Toby's father hadn't seemed upset in the least that his son had been placed in Hufflepuff. In fact, Toby thought he almost seemed to be relieved, though Toby wasn't sure why. In response to his son's tale of the strange behaviour of Emily and Simon, the older Malfoy only responded to stay out of their way and do nothing to provoke them.
Things did not improve over the next few months. Simon, no doubt encouraged by other Gryffindors, had become bolder in his mini-war on Toby. He withstood being tripped in the hall, having his books 'accidentally' levitated out a window, and his pumpkin juice being transfigured into a bitter liquid. It wasn't until a smelly substance exploded all of him when he opened his backpack that he decided it was time for retaliation. He was tired of taking the abuse and knew that he could dish out as good as he got. David, Damon, and Joey, who had also been in the blast range of the foul liquid, decided to help him.
The Hufflepuffs filled the Gryffindor first year boys' dorm with doxies. The Gryffindors charmed the Hufflepuffs' curtains to attack them in their sleep. The Hufflepuffs accioed the Gryffindors' backpacks into the path of some older Ravenclaws. Before long, older students were getting in on the prank war. When a Slytherin prefect, known for turning a blind eye to the war, stepped in and saved Tobias from a cadre of Gryffindors with wands raised, he was shocked. He could have sworn the boy winked at him before sending him on his way. After that, he got the impression that he was being watched by the older Slytherins, that they were acting as a sort of silent guard for him. He also noticed that no one confronted him in the halls anymore. It wasn't until some older Hufflepuffs spiked the Gryffindor lunch with something that sent almost the entire lower end of the table to the hospital wing with various magical illnesses that the professors decided enough was enough.
It was during a Herbology class just before Christmas vacations that Toby, David, Damon, Simon, and three other Gryffindor first years whose names Toby didn't know were called to the Headmistress' office. Ofelia and Emily looked at them with concern. The boys lanced glares of hate between them as the staircase extended upward.
Headmistress McGonagall was fuming. The portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses stared down at them sternly.
"It has been nearly twenty years since I've seen such reproachful behaviour from students. This is not the place for such things. You are going to explain to me right now exactly what has been going on and why you thought you could get away with this… this war in my school!" No one spoke as she stared them down.
"Professor," spoke David meekly, unable to withstand anymore. "Err… I can't tell you why it started, because I don't know. All I know is that they," he pointed accusingly at the Gryffindors, "started wrecking Toby's things and tripping him in the halls, things like that." Simon shot him a glare of loathing. "I don't think that Toby did anything to provoke it."
"And you felt it necessary to retaliate?" she practically screamed. She then turned to Simon. "Is this true? Did you start this?" Simon sighed.
"Yes," he replied grudgingly.
"And do you want to tell me why?" she asked coldly. Simon looked at Toby with a level of hatred he had never seen in anyone before.
"I thought it was obvious, professor. He's a Malfoy. What other reason do I need?" Damon snorted in disbelief, but everyone else was silent. Toby clenched his fists and clenched his teeth. The colour drained from Professor McGonagall's face. When she spoke, it was much quieter, but also much more forceful.
"Mister Weasley, I understand that your family lost a lot during the last war." She raised a hand to prevent Simon's outburst. "And I know how closely knit your family has always been. I, unlike you, was actually alive during those times. I was head of Gryffindor house and I knew your aunt, and Mister Potter, and dozens more who are know resting in their graves. I know that the pain still lingers for your family, but let me tell you this and you had better listen well. Tobias Malfoy, eleven years old, has nothing to do with the actions of his grandfather, nor of anyone but himself. And you would be well served to know that the last time I heard such loathful, prejudiced comments was from the mouths of those who have the good fortune to now be spending the rest of their days in Azkaban." She looked at each of them in turn, spending a bit longer giving Toby a searching look. "A full Ministry inquest cleared Draco Malfoy of all wrongdoing after the war. That should be more than good enough for you." Simon was fuming, but said nothing. "You all have a month of detention after we return from holiday, and I'll be writing to your parents. And I'll be writing to your grandmother as well, Mister Weasley." It was the first thing that she had said that seemed to have an effect on him, because he went pale and his eyes wide. "Now all of you get back to class."
They all stood up and began to file out of the office when the Headmistress spoke again. "Not you, Mister Malfoy. I need to speak with you."
The fire crackled merrily in the grate as Toby sat back down in the conjured armchair. Professor McGonagall contemplated him wearily for a few moments. She pushed a tin towards him.
"Take a ginger snap." She was so serious about the matter that Toby couldn't refuse, although he didn't particularly care for them. As he attempted to gnaw a piece of off the extremely hard snack, the Headmistress sighed and began to speak.
"I can't help but wish that Albus was here. I can't help but be reminded of his situation with Harry Potter." The professor looked genuinely upset. Toby was confused, and his brow furrowed.
"I'm like Harry Potter?" he asked, incredulously, setting the biscuit on the headmistress' desk.
"Well, not really. It's just that, well, did you know that he was rivals with your father?" she asked. Toby's raised eyebrows were enough of an answer. "No, I suppose your father was trying to forget that part of his life. He wouldn't be likely to speak about it with you, in any case. Yes, Harry Potter and his two friends Hermione Granger-your Transfiguration professor now-and Ronald Weasley were always getting into fights with your father and his gang. They were sworn enemies from the age of eleven. At that age your father was quite the little copy of his father." She looked at him with eyes that twinkled slightly. "So this Weasley-Malfoy feud is nothing new."
"My father was brought to trial after the war?" Toby burst out. "I've never heard that before." The professor looked at him warily.
"Then I really don't know how much I should tell you, but I suppose it's nothing that you can't find in the library anyway. Yes, your father was the subject of an inquest into his activities during the war, and it was found that there was nothing to charge him for. A rather elegant defence by Mr. Potter and Miss Granger swayed the Wizengamot most severely in his favour."
"I thought Harry Potter died during the last battle!" he cried out. The Headmistress looked through her glasses sadly.
"No, I'm afraid he was killed in a traffic accident a few weeks later in Muggle London." Tobias' mouth was an O of surprise, but he recovered quickly.
"I don't understand why my father was brought to trial at all if he had nothing to do with the war. Was it just because he was a Malfoy?" His fists were clenched at the thought. The professor sighed, and Toby thought she wasn't going to respond.
"The truth of the matter, Mister Malfoy, is that your father was involved in the war. He was known to consort with known Death Eaters, and though it was never proven, he was thought to be one himself."
"Then why would Harry Potter have defended him to the Wizengamot?" he cried, frustrated. The professor's lips formed a thin line.
"That, I'm afraid, I cannot tell you. You'll have to ask your father."
"Hah! He never tells me anything. Did you know that I don't even know who my mother is?" he burst out before thinking about it. The professor looked at him in pity, and there was an awkward silence.
"I'm afraid we've gone off topic. My intention has been to see that you knew exactly why Simon Weasley seems to have the grudge against you. I hope that you will be the better person and ignore his advances. I will not have a repeat of these actions."
"Yes, Professor," he replied automatically, with a bitter tone.
"I'm sorry it has to be this way. You seem like a very good sort of person. If only Mister Weasley could see that."
"May I be dismissed?" he asked woodenly, wanting to go to his room and think about all that had happened.
"Yes, of course. Don't forget your ginger snap."
Draco had been angry with his son, of course, but had not punished him. On the contrary, Simon had received a furious Howler from his grandmother. As Molly Weasley's infuriated voice echoed through the Great Hall, Toby almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Draco had written and told Toby to invite some of his friends and their families to a New Years' Eve party at the Manor. He invited all the first year Hufflepuffs, who gladly accepted once he explained that his father had said he would send them Portkeys (and explained to David what a Portkey was). He managed to talk to Joey in the hall, and he said he would ask to his parents. The last person he had left to ask was Ofelia, and it was hard to try to catch her alone. In the end, he had to ask her in Herbology, but he didn't want to do it in the presence of the other Gryffindors in case they would think badly of her for talking to him. Luckily, the only people in earshot were Hufflepuffs.
"Um, Ofelia, well my father is having a party for New Years' and he told me to invite some friends, and I thought, that if you wanted, you could come, we'd send a Portkey and everything and your family can come too, but only if you want to," he trailed off nervously. Her eyes went really wide.
"You are asking me to come to your house for a party?" she asked quietly. Toby coloured.
"Yeah, but you don't have to come if you don't want, I understand that you shouldn't be seen associating with me," he replied.
"Ay, todo eso es tontería," she responded, her eyes glowing. Toby just stared. "They are being stupid," she clarified. "Of course I will come!" she squealed, but then her eyes dimmed. "Oh…" she said. "I am staying with Emilia and her mother." Toby's face fell. He doubted they would let her come. "Unless you invite them also, then we can all come!"
"I don't think Emily and her mother will want to," he replied. Ofelia looked at him shrewdly.
"I think you might be surprised, Tobias. You will invite them, and I will ask them, ok?" she responded with a smile.
"All right, but I don't think they'll come."
Two weeks later they were standing in the entry hall, where Draco had configured the Portkeys to enter, with a crowd of people milling about in the adjoining salon. Most of the kids had brought one or both of their parents. Joey had brought his older brother, saying that his parents had a previous engagement with co-workers.
"Just one more Portkey," his father said. "Sent to a Miss Ofelia Roberts. They should be arriving any minute now." Toby had just opened his mouth to say that she probably wasn't coming, when there was a rushing noise and four people appeared out of mid-air, disoriented.
"I'll never get used to that," complained a female voice before taking in her surroundings. She was facing away from the two Malfoys, and they watched as she let out a choking noise and brought her hands to her face. The man put his arm around her.
"Tobias!" Ofelia shouted with her accent. "So good to see you!" She raced towards him and placed a kiss on either cheek. He coloured a little, but remembered that it was the Spanish way of greeting. Tobias' father smiled.
"Tienes que ser Ofelia," he said in Spanish, and the girl gave a little jump. "Mucho gusto."
"A usted," she responded. "I have been waiting my whole life to meet you, Mister Malfoy, because I have been wanting to thank you for your orphanage, where I lived five years very well."
Draco appeared moved by the girl's proclamation, and Toby had never seen him quite like that. "I'm very happy to have helped you," he responded, squeezing her shoulder the way he did to Toby. "That is all the thanks I need." Smiling broadly, the girl moved aside as the other three approached. Draco looked to his son with a slightly raised eyebrow.
"Father, allow me to present to you my classmate Emily Potter, her mother, Professor Hermione Longbottom, and her stepfather Mister Neville Longbottom." With a grin, he looked to his father. "Did I do it right?" he asked. Draco smiled lightly.
"Nearly. You've forgotten a part though." Toby frowned.
"Oh, right, sorry. Miss Potter, Mr. and Professor Longbottom, allow me to present my father, the Esteemed Draco Sylvestrus-"
"I don't believe we require the formal name, son," Draco responded calmly.
"-Maurice Malfoy," finished Toby. "But it's so long, I've got to practice it sometime." Emily giggled; Draco rolled his eyes.
"I didn't realize you had more than one name," spoke Hermione Longbottom. "Even the Black family tapestry only had a simple 'Draco'," she said, which peaked Draco's interest.
"When did you ever see that?" he asked, incredulous. "Mother said it had been destroyed years ago." Hermione looked nervous.
"I couldn't tell you if I tried," she said eventually. "It's a Kept Secret." Draco nodded.
"Yes," he responded a bit sadly, "some secrets are meant to be kept." Shaking off the dark mood, he motioned to the salon. "You'll find food and beverage inside. Help yourself to whatever you like."
The party seemed to be going quite well, despite the presence of Emily and her parents. Mr. Longbottom had just been entertaining some of the Muggles with tricks of the wand, and was receiving a stern lecture from his wife about being honest with them.
"Hermione, do you really think they should know the horrible things that magic can do? You'll be the first to admit that they're not a part of the magical world, and that they can't truly understand it until they live in it, so why not show them a few harmless party tricks and leave it at that?" Apparently this was the completely wrong answer, because she huffed and stormed off.
"My mum's very involved in the movement to merge the Muggle and magical worlds," a voice in his ear said suddenly. Toby jumped, and spun around to face Emily. "She's Muggleborn." Toby nodded, and they were silent for a moment. "Thank you for inviting me to your party." Toby shrugged.
"I didn't think you were going to come. I don't think our parents get along."
"I know," she said. "But that doesn't mean that we can't." Toby smiled. "Just don't tell Simon."
It was the perfect arrangement, Toby thought with a grin, as he wasn't likely to speak to that oaf Simon Weasley in any case.
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