Except when he steps in his dorms - the ones that are supposed to be empty - he nearly drops his tea in shock at the person still in them. 

“Merlin—!” 

Gabriel and his family weren’t really magical in the general sense of the world. Sure, there was some magic in their family line, enough to support their transformation and that they were aware of the magical communities around the world, but they weren’t wizards or witches. Still, they were in it enough that Gabe didn’t feel out of his territory in magical places, not really. 

And Hogsmeade just happened to be one of his favorite places to go. And sure, he couldn’t deny Honeydukes was probably the mean reason why. The shop was full of students today though, and he couldn’t really go anywhere without bumping into someone. Still, the least he could do was not be rude. 

“Yeah and I’m really impressed. You’ve had quite a life. Your dad seemed…uh… unconventional.” She wasn’t sure where he stood, in terms of how his relationship with his father so she tried not to offend him. “Harvard is no small feat. Congratulations on that. I went to MIT, right up the road.” This still felt so surreal.

“Were you happy… with them? Did they treat you well?”

“Creepy? Psychotic?” Malcolm laughs. People always tend to dance around the term Serial Killer. “Yeah, it was weird.” He’s not offended. It’s a strange thing, knowing someone with the connections Malcolm has. Dani and JT are still getting used to it, after nearly a year together. 

“Thanks.” Funnily enough, that’s not something he’s often congratulated on. Being the son of a world reknowned surgeon has that effect, he supposes. Many people wondered or assumed he would go into medicine... or killing. He chose neither. 

“This might surprise you, but... yes. I was. My mother is a good woman, and my father...” He hesitates, unsure how to word what his thoughts want him to say. “Before everything was found out, we were very close.” 

What is it that makes a man, a man? A wizard? What makes a person who they are? Is it the trials they have faced, or the joys? The enemies, or the friends? For Draco, it took him quite some time to realize that it was all of the above. For everything he’s faced, he has become a better man for it. Not perfect, no. Perfection is an illusion. Even still, he takes pride in what he’s been able to accomplish. His career, his family, the changes he made to his family name and reputation. There will always be people who sneer at him, turn up their noses at the reminder stained into his forearm. That’s fine. 

A mans mistakes are as much a part of him as his triumphs, after all. Even with all this, he must acknowledge that a part of him remains juvenile. The name Potter brings with it an old and familiar judgement and hesitance. The rejection that eleven year old Malfoy faced has burrowed it’s roots deep. 

When Harry Potter went on to build his own family, he was neither surprised nor upset. It is to be expected of their age and generation, after all. What did surprise him, was the relationship - or lack there of - he seemed to have with said family. With Draco staying under the radar, it was easy to just observe. It was not joy or smug approval he felt as he watched the family suffer. 

It’s easy to imagine then, isn’t it, that when James Sirius Potter started lurking around, Draco could understand why. He knew what it was. The same signs he sees in James, he remembers in himself. The shadow of anger under the arrogance. The flash of trauma beneath the smirks and smiles. 

Hidden below the flirtations and banter, Draco sees the potential. Untapped and ready for use. He sees it, and he calls it forward. “You will intern at my firm from today forward, do you understand?” It is not a question. It is not an opportunity he will allow to be rejected. “What you do reflects not just on yourself, but on me as well now. You will get your life in order.” He reads shock in those (beautiful) eyes, but he will not stay to see what else is in them. He has work to do, and now, so does James. 

Days, weeks, months pass. Malfoy finds himself growing accustomed to the flirtatious compliments, the innuendos, the smiles that ease the ache around his own heart in a frustratingly confusing way. He is too young. 

This is the last time he lets Lydia set him up on a date. The last, he swears. Yeah the guys cute — pale ginger, freckles everywhere, kinda his type. The issue lies in the fact he’s an absolute fucking douchebag. He’s a know it all, the type of guy who tried to order for Stiles at dinner and bought him champagne after Stiles told him he didn’t want to drink that night.  Well, he wasted his own money. Now they’re at a concert. He’s heard of the band. Though he can’t say he’s listened much. College does that to a person. Stiles jumped through the ranks of the FBI, but now he’s interning, working and studying all at the same time. Aiming for the BAU is a dream many would scoff at. An incredibly selective program is bad enough, but one that requires multiple degrees and experience on top of it? Noah’s worried about his son. 

Stiles had to call off work and call in a favor to even go on this date tonight, and he’s not exactly happy. They’re in the third row, so he’s getting a good show at least. He lost his date to some buff bear type of guy about twenty minutes ago and good riddance, honestly. The music isn’t too bad, and if he shakes himself out of his cranky mood, he might even enjoy it. The lead singer is hot, too. 

Stiles isn’t entirely sure when his life became... this. It’s Halloween, and instead of being at a party with Scott and Lydia, he’s chillin’ in his bed with the British exchange student. Though something about the way he handles himself and his confidence tells Stiles that’s not all he is. His instincts haven’t failed him yet. 

             @lifecrumblesdown​

“Did you get your homework done?” 

The question comes naturally. Instinctively. How many years ago was it now? When Bellamy Blake was picked up by his biological father from the foster home they all inhabited, and John Murphy uncharacteristically spoke up -- promising vehemently to take care of Octavia on his behalf. That turned into him completely turning his life around. No more bullshit. Reluctantly following authority until he could be his own. 

He worked two jobs through high school, dropped out to save money and buy a little starter home with two bedrooms. He did everything the courts told him, at times getting six hours of sleep in a week to work enough. 

Somehow, he was granted custody of Octavia when she was thirteen. He’s been her guardian ever since. He just got off work, and is picking her up from practice.