Author's Note (Please read!): Hello! So this is my first Harry Potter fanfiction; sorry if it's rubbish. But I don't plan on this being a one-shot. I think it's going to be a collection of songfics all revolving around Harry/Draco goodness. That being said, I will be accepting requests. If there's any song that you'd like to see a Drarry fic written for, let me know in a review or PM, and I'll do my best to get it done within the week. The only types of songs I won't write for are metal and rap. If you have an idea of how you want the fic to go, you can let me know and I'll try to incorporate it (you'll get credit for the idea, of course). If I don't get requests, then I'll just do a song of my own choosing. I'll be attempting to update about once a week, but that might become more difficult once the school year begins. PS - This story is un-beta'd, so when I finish a chapter, it'll be up shortly after.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series, or any of the characters. This story is in the name of good fun.

Tonight it's the one thing left

And I haven't said it yet

I'm falling, and the writing's on the wall

"What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry looked up from his spot by the fireplace to his best friend, who was lounging on the small couch, fighting sleep. Harry was often jealous of Ron's carefree nature. So many lives were lost in the war, including Ron's own brother, and yet he was able to return to Hogwarts and carry on with his life as if Voldemort had never existed in the first place. The brunette had been more than a little hesitant to return, and every day the absence of his fallen friends felt more prominent. Though Voldemort was gone, this time for good, something was still bothering Harry, and it loomed over him like a dark cloud at all times.

Harry shrugged and turned to gaze at the fireplace once more. "Ron, doesn't it feel… wrong being back at Hogwarts?"

Ron sat up and looked exasperatedly at his friend. Seven years later and he was still left wondering why the boy would not let them enjoy a peaceful, happy school year. "No. What do you mean?"

"I'm not exactly sure," Harry responded honestly."After sixth year, when we left, I never thought that I'd be returning. And now that Voldemort's gone, along with a good amount of our friends, we just come back? As if nothing ever happened?" He glanced at Ron, who had his eyebrows furrowed and was picking absently at a loose thread on a throw-pillow, no doubt thinking of his brother Fred. "It's just that somehow, I feel like I don't belong here anymore. You know?"

The redhead slowly met the intense gaze of his best friend and sighed sadly. "Not really, no. I've always felt like I belonged here. That hasn't changed for me since the war. Hogwarts is my home." Ron leaned back on the couch and gazed at the flickering flames of the burning fire. A few moments passed in a tense silence, and when there was no response, Ron carried on, glad to be able to change the subject. "In fact, I've been thinking about maybe being a teacher here. I quite like Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Merlin knows I've had enough experience to get myself the job." Ron chuckled and closed his eyes, content with imagining such a bright future for himself.

Momentarily thrown off by the abrupt change of topic, Harry did nothing but blink in response. The two sat in silence, engulfed in the warm glow of the fire, each lost in their own thoughts.

Harry sighed and stood up. "I'm going for a walk."

Ron nodded. "Alright, then. See you later, mate."

Today was misery

And I just can't believe this happened

And I finally broke down

Half an hour later, Harry found himself walking the Hogwarts grounds, without any specific destination in mind. Walking alone had been something he had been doing quite often recently. He didn't understand how he had never noticed before, but the atmosphere at Hogwarts could be overwhelming at times. He headed to the lake, reveling in the peace brought to him by separation from the hordes of people within the school. The sun was setting on the lake as he kneeled by the water. He stared at his reflection in the lake and noticed for the first time how tired he looked. He took off his glasses and splashed the cool water on his face. Finally breathing easily, Harry laid back in the grass and closed his eyes against the sun.

He didn't know how long he stayed there before he was interrupted, but the next time he opened his eyes, the sun was no longer on the horizon, and darkness was rapidly descending upon the school.

"Potter." Harry jerked into a sitting positing, startled by the voice that broke the heavy silence. He turned and felt dread settle into the pit of his stomach when he saw a familiar white-blonde head of hair.

"Malfoy." He said through gritted teeth, too tired to care that his voice lacked its usual venomous tone.

The other shifted on his feet, as if unsure of whether or not he should stay. "What are you doing here?"

Harry did his best to glare up at Draco while groping the ground, trying to locate his discarded glasses. "I don't think that's any of your business," he growled. He found his glasses and put them on, the pale boy's features becoming much more defined.

Draco shrugged and turned to leave. Harry sighed and felt himself relax, though he hadn't noticed how tense he had become when he first saw the blonde. He watched the other walk away slowly and stop a few yards away. He lifted two fragile hands and pressed his palms to his eyes, then ran his fingers through his hair. He lifted his head and stared up at the few twinkling stars, his pale skin glowing in the dim moonlight. Harry didn't know why, but he felt somewhat guilty for watching, as though he was witnessing a private moment. But if Malfoy hadn't wanted Harry to see him, then he should have walked further away. So it was his own fault, really.

But even Harry knew something wasn't right with Draco. In the previous weeks, Malfoy had been simply annoying, rather than unbearable. His insults were halfhearted, his pranks were few and far between, and everything he did seemed to be out of instinct rather than cruelness. His question to Harry earlier hadn't been spiteful or sarcastic, it had just been a simple question. One that Harry would have asked Ron or Hermione without a second thought. The longer he watched the burdened blonde, the worse he felt for snapping at him. Harry wanted to slap himself. He felt badly for snapping at Draco Malfoy? Just the idea of it made him scoff. But still…

Before he could stop himself, Harry reached a hand out to the boy, who was far out of his reach. "Hey, Malfoy!" he called, beckoning him over.

Harry clenched his jaw as the blonde started, his trance-like state broken. He turned back to Harry and stared for a moment before heading to the edge of the lake once more.

Why had he done that? Now Draco was standing over him like before, arching a delicate eyebrow, and expecting a reason for being called over. Unfortunately, Harry didn't know exactly what that reason was.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I, uh, I was taking a walk earlier, and I stopped here. I must have fallen asleep."

Draco fought back the urge to smirk, or make some snide comment. He nodded and sat down beside Harry casually, as though this wasn't unusual for the school's most infamous rivals.

These words can cut right through

Cause all along I knew you're sorry

But you haven't said it yet

And I won't forget.

Harry wondered if it was only him who noticed how completely awkward the situation was. There they sat, side by side, looking into the dark water at their feet. The dark-haired boy thought that silence had never seemed so heavy or uncomfortable as it did at that moment. Glancing at the other out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Draco seemed so calm, or at least as calm as Harry had ever seen him. He sat with his legs bent in front of him, leaning back on his hands. His features were relaxed, though he was sitting next to the same person who had very nearly killed him the year prior.

"I never apologized…" Harry realized suddenly.

Draco turned to look at him. "What was that?"

Harry took a deep breath, glad, at least, for a reason to break the tortuous silence. "I said that I never apologized to you for what I did in sixth year." Draco furrowed his brow, and Harry clarified, "The curse, I mean."

"I knew what you meant, Potter," Draco couldn't help but snap. After a moment he sighed and rubbed absently at his chest, where Harry guessed he had left a scar. Harry wondered if he even knew he was doing it. "I figure it's about time you apologized," he commented. "I did nearly die, you know." Draco smirked slightly, taking some twisted pleasure in Harry's discomfort.

Harry looked down at his hands. "I know. I'm sorry." Harry couldn't remember ever feeling so ashamed of himself.

Draco stopped rubbing his scarred chest and eyed the boy sitting beside him warily. "I figure we're about even now."

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Because I apologized?"

"Like hell, Potter. Your apology means next to nothing to me. You nearly killed me," he pointed out once more. Harry met his gaze for a second before the blonde turned away. He tried to catch his eye again, but to no avail. "You also saved me," Draco added quietly. "So I guess that makes us about even."

Harry thought that he must have still been dreaming. There was no way that this scene could be taking place. But while it lasted, he might as well make the most of it. He smiled at his (former?) enemy, and hoped that the other saw it, though Draco was doing anything he could to avoid looking at him.

The pair passed a minute or two in silence once more. Harry laid back on the grass and tried to quell his inexplicable nervousness. "So, uh, why are you out here?"

Draco sneered at the water, still reluctant to meet Harry's gaze. The silence stretched on for what seemed like hours, and just as Harry was convinced that he wasn't going to get an answer, Draco replied, "We can't all be war heroes, Potter." The raven-haired boy plucked pieces of grass from the earth, waiting to see if he would elaborate. "Someone had to be on the wrong side of the firing line. That obviously included me, and my family."

So maybe Draco was having some regrets? Could it be possible that Draco even had a heart and a fully functional conscience?

The blonde finally turned to look at the other, and the shame that clouded his grey eyes shocked Harry into silence.

"Malfoy isn't the respected name that it once was, you know." Harry bit back the urge to tell him exactly what people used to think of the Malfoys, but decided against ruining the progress they seemed to have made. "My father's got himself thrown into Azkaban, and my mother's gone mad because of it. She hardly recognizes me these days."

Harry swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, and managed to choke out, "And you?"

Draco looked thrown off by the question. His eyes widened slightly, and then narrowed into slits. "Me? Why bother asking about me? I'm the school's biggest prat. I'm the one who worked for Voldemort. I'm the one who tried to kill Dumbledore. People spit at my feet and throw hexes from every corner while the teachers stand by and watch." He sighed and looked away. "Sometimes, it all gets to be a bit much. And I'm not like the brave bloody Gryffindors. When in doubt, I run. You should know that by now."

As much as Harry would have liked to say something comforting to the boy, he knew anything he might have said would have been a lie. Malfoy was a cowardly prat who worked for Dark Lord. He wouldn't say otherwise just to make the other feel better. But he had to say something. Continuing to sit in silence with his mouth repeatedly opening and closing was not an option.

"I was supposed to be in Slytherin." Looking back on it, Harry would have no idea what compelled him to reveal his true sorting, which he had previously only revealed to his closest friends. Harry felt a sort of satisfaction when Draco whipped around to look at him, eyebrows raised to somewhere around his hair line. "The Sorting Hat told me I would do well in Slytherin," he repeated, "but I begged to be put anywhere else, and it listened."

Draco had regained his composure and let out a harsh chuckle. "A Slytherin Boy Who Lived? It doesn't seem right."

"What I'm trying to say," Harry started again, having some difficulty making his point clear, "is that I'm not especially brave either. Why do you think I came out here? All I think about when I walk inside are our friends that have died because of me. I have nightmares, every night. Of them, of Voldemort, of my parents." Harry didn't know why he was sharing his deepest secrets with the git he had hated since first year. Though he was struck by the oddity of their situation, he couldn't keep his words or emotions in check. "I want nothing more than to leave this place, and never look back."

Without missing a beat, Draco answered smoothly, "So let's leave."

Harry laughed, looking up at the dark sky. "I wish it was that simple."

"Why isn't it?"

The brunet boy blinked owlishly at the other. "You can't be serious."

Draco shook his head. "I'm serious. There's nothing left for me here. I want to leave. You want to leave. So what's stopping us? Let's just get up and leave."

"Where would we go?" Harry asked hesitantly. It sounded like the blonde was implying that they should leave together, but Harry wasn't so naïve as to completely let his guard down.

He could see Draco getting increasingly excited about the idea as more time passed. Harry could have sworn he even saw the boy smile as he said, "Anywhere. Anywhere but here."

You're all I've got right now

No one else figures out this feeling

And how lonely it can get

Draco pushed himself to his feet and brushed the dust off his robes. He looked down at Harry and saw the boy watching him suspiciously out of the corner of his eye. He smirked and offered his hand. "Well? Are you coming?"

Harry studied the hand, half-expecting it to be some sort of prank. He looked up and saw, however, that the blonde was staring at him with a small half-smile transforming him into someone almost unrecognizable. Harry had previously doubted that the boy even knew how to smile. The situation was so surreal. The git he had been tortured by, and had tortured in return, was offering him his hand and even smiling at him. He looked like it pained him to do so, but the gesture was still unmistakably there. He was offering to take him away from Hogwarts. Draco understood how he felt when even his own best friend could not. It was insane, yes, but somehow, it also felt right. Like they were never meant to be enemies.

Pushing away thoughts of the life he was leaving behind, and of the consequences of his actions, Harry reached up and knowingly took the hand of the boy who had only offered his hand to him once before, six long years ago.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

Secret love, my escape

Take me far far away

Secret love, are you there?

Will you answer my prayer?

Please take me anywhere but here

Word Count: 2,551

Author's Note (Please Read!): Most of my stories won't be this long, my muse just ran away with me this time. It's probably not very good, but I would love to hear what you thought of it. So leave a review, please, and tell me if you have any song requests! If you do send me a request, I'll PM you back, and let you know whether or not I can do it, and about how long it should take me. Also, not all of my chapters will be like this one. A lot of them will be light-hearted and fluffy or AU. Some of them will probably be an established Drarry relationship, too.

Song: Anywhere But Here - Mayday Parade

PS - Most of the time, my author's notes will just be mindless rambling. They usually won't be very important.