AN: I've been working on prompts all day! Here's one such thing. The prompt was: Two People dislike each other get in the same cab. I don't own HP

Cab Ride:

Harry liked riding on Muggle trains; it was always something that calmed him. He could only reason that it was because Muggles had no idea the danger they were in. They didn't know he was a hero in the wizarding world. Now that the war was over he supposed his only reason for riding trains now was habit; although it was nice to go places where people didn't recognize him. But he'd gotten far from home and the underground had broken down. He supposed he could fix it with magic, he wasn't ready to apparate home, but instead he got a cab.

Harry had never been in a cab. It was no different than any other car he supposed; expect the glass that divided the back from the front. The other door of the cab opened and another passenger got in.

"Charing Cross Road."

"Draco?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Potter? What are you doing in my cab?"

"What are you doing in a cab?"

"Just get out."

"You."

The cab driver started driving, "You can share the cab. Charing Cross Road?"

"Yes." Draco answered.

"Why are you in a cab?" Harry asked again, attempting to keep his voice low.

"I could ask the same thing about you."

Harry rolled his eyes and glared out the window – so much for a calming ride. The tension filled silence echoed in the car like a painful memory. Draco stared haughtily out the window, huffing occasionally.

"Seriously Draco – what are you doing in a Muggle cab?"

"If you must know, going to Diagon Alley."

"Why not apparate?"

"I broke my wand okay?"

"Broke your wand?"

"Long story."

The silence continued and Harry sighed, enjoying the setting sun slipping through the window as the car rushed dangerously through the streets.

"Potter, I just want to say thanks. You know, for saving us and… well, everything."

To say Harry was stunned would be an understatement. He was floored. Shocked.

"You're welcome." He managed, finding his voice. "And thank your mum for me." Harry said, looking away.

Harry could feel something breaking away from him; the tension he didn't know he was holding in his shoulders. It all drained away with this small conversation.

"Charing Cross Road. Fifteen." The cabbie said.

Draco paid the man. "See you Harry."

Harry nodded vaguely.

"Where too?" The cab driver asked.

"Grimmauld Place." He was ready to go home.