Slamming open the door to his office, Draco just stood in the doorway for a moment.  He was breathing hard from his effort to maintain a calm demeanor as he left the Great Hall.  Although, right now, if his eyes could shoot out flames they probably would be.  Realizing that his actions could still be seen by anyone walking by his open door, he turned and closed the door as calmly as he could manage at the moment, which still managed to shake the walls on either side of the door as he closed it.

He really should of expected this... sooner or later something that reminded him of his mistakes in the past was going to happen.

He had let his guard down and now he had been publicly humiliated by a group of school children.

As much as Draco hated to admit, he actually had become used to being shamed or worse for his actions during the war.  Did people think he didn't hate himself for everything.  He had just been a kid, thinking he was going to get power or acclaim from joining the Dark Lord, but instead he got threatened at every turn.  Honestly he expected it every time he left his house.

But here, now that he was a Potions Master and working a credible job, he thought he might be given some peace of mind for a change. It was in this moment that he remembered, sometimes children can be cruel. He should know, he had been one of those cruel children.

His breathing had calmed down, but his anger still was roaring in his ears, Draco let out an angry shout and released some of his magic into the air.  He pulled his wand out of his arm holster and began to systematically destroy his office.  Flipping over his desk, smashing potions vials (that thankfully were empty), and basically lashing out at anything he could see in his office.  After a few minutes, he began to get tired. He hadn't used his magic for anything but brewing potions for years so the strain was almost too much.  Draco leaned back against the door of his office and sank slowly to the floor.

And then Draco did something he hadn't done since he was a very small child.... he lost control... and as much as he would never admit it to anyone and would most likely hex anyone who would suggest that it happened. His head leaned back to hit the wood of the door as a few tears slipped out of his eyes and fell down his cheeks to land on his robes.  Draco brushed them away, but hated that he'd let even a few fall. 

After what seemed like forever, Draco stood up, wiped his face off on the sleeve of his robe (his mother would be horrified at the action), and set himself to the task of repairing the damage he'd done to his office.

Dungeons

Cosima Early of Ravenclaw considered herself intrepid and had been brave enough to have been a bit of a hatstall. She didn't buy into the hokey so-called prophetic magic of a ratty old hat, but regardless, its mumbling decisions set your course for years. Today, she was being all Ravenclaw though - curious.

Sometime after the provacative prank in the Great Hall[1], Cosima broke off from her friends and went down to the dungeons. It was after dark now, and classes were long-past over for the evening; she encountered no one in the subterranean halls. She was looking for Professor Malfoy. That Malfoy.

As she approached the Potions classroom she heard a ruckus a little further on towards the office set aside for the Potionsmaster. But as soon as she'd begun to hear it, it stopped. She continued foreward on tip-toe and pressed her ear to the door. Someone was moving around inside, and she could hear the faint clattering of objects being handled - nothing like what she'd just heard.

1.	30 Mar 2012 - Haunted by the Past

As the pieces of broken glass from the potion vials slowly mended themselves together, Draco felt his temper receding just as slowly.  He knew that he shouldn't of let his anger get the best of him, but tonight he lost all the control he had painstakingly put together since the war ended.

Once the room was back in order where it looked like nothing happened Draco sat down in his office chair and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped what little trace of tears was left off of his face.  He took a few deep breaths and took off his over-robe.  He was glad he was in his office, he could afford being relaxed and not so put together.

The parchment he had by his door that was tied into the light ward he had placed there let him know there was a student outside.  Draco couldn't really be bothered to answer the door at the moment so he just sat behind his desk with his shirt untucked and his sleeves rolled up, his wand back into his arm holster on his lower arm.  He didn't want any company and he was pretty sure that whatever company he did admit into his office at the moment, would not end well.

After another minute, Cosima became confident that there was someone in that office. The light twinkling sounds, the scrape of shoes on the stone floor, the creaking of a chair, were each evidence that more than a mouse was stirring. She licked her lips and, still listening, rapped on the door perhaps too gently.

Nock, nock, nock.

In Professor Malfoy's class, Cosima was attentive and studious. Other students were wary of him and worried about a temper he'd never really shown, but Cosima watched him carefully. She didn't understand him, not in the slightest. She didn't understand why he'd done what he'd supposedly done, and why he'd dare coming back to Hogwarts after all these years, knowing that everyone would hate him. She wondered if it was bravery, or what her mother called self-sabotage.

She knocked again a little louder.

Knock, Knock, Knock!

When the second knock sounded through the room, Draco ran his hand over his face and sighed.  He flicked his wand out of the wand holster and sent a spell towards the door to release the lock and open it slightly.  He didn't say anything, but hopefully that the person on the other side of the door would realize it.[1]

1.	Sorry that it's so short

Cosima startled with a little gasp when the door unlatched and moved ajar. She hadn't done it - she was insightful enough to know this was as much of a welcome she could expect. She pushed the door open all the way before entering with peering eyes looking all around the room. Only after she'd seen everything from floor to ceiling did she look to her Potions teacher.

The wizard with the blond hair and reddened eyes was sitting at his desk, his normally neat clothes unbuttoned and rolled up in a more casual fashion. The room held no evidence that there'd been a ruckus just a few minutes ago but there was a heaviness.

"Hello, Professor," she said, finding her spot on a worn rug in about the middle of the space. The red-haired, be-freckled Cosima held her arms comfortably at her sides like her mother had taught her.

"Remember me? Cosima Early? From class? How are you?"

She was from Slandermouth in the northwest of England but her accent was diluted by having spent so much of her life around peers. Cosima was not overbearing or impetuous or simpering. Precocious a bit maybe, but only because she found it easy to speak with adults. Whether adults found it easy to speak to her, well, that depended.

Draco held up his hand to acknowledge that he had heard the girl.  Truthfully, he hadn't been paying much attention to any of his students to really know their names by just seeing their faces.  Sure he was a little more attentive towards the Slytherins, but that was just how he was. 

"Yes, what did you need?" he asked the girl, trying not to let it show on his face that he currently wanted to be left alone. 

Professor Malfoy was very similar in class and out of class, speaking little, lacking in warmth, and even young Cosima could sense a deep insecurity. Her mother was a therapist, so she understood the nature of deep insecurity. Perhaps what Professor Malfoy needed was a good fortune-teller to give him some validation and encouragement.

He prompted her for a reason for her visit and Cosima thought carefully for a moment. Then she said, "I wanted to see if you were alright after that Dark Mark at dinner."

She wasn't afraid to name it. They'd learned about it in History of Magic.