There is no Sentiment
Chapter 1
"Bye, Harry!" Hermione called, turning towards Ron as she spoke. Harry shrugged indifferently whilst casting his eyes to the ground. He had forgotten that Ron and Hermione had prefect duties to attend to.
"Yeah, see you later, mate!" Ron shouted over his shoulder. His tall was frame towering over Hermione as she dragged him by his arm to the prefect's carriage. Harry was certain that they didn't have to go that soon, a quick thought flashed through his mind – they probably didn't want to be around him anyway.
If anyone were to look closely at the Golden Boy, they would have noticed his clothes hanging off his frame or the dark shadows that seemed to reside permanently under his eyes. They would have also have seen that his eyes seemed to have lost their usual spark, now appearing lifeless and dull.
Realizing that he eventually had to get a seat on the Hogwarts Express, Harry slowly shuffled, his shoulders hunched, to the closest empty compartment that he could find. Dumping his bags on the seat opposite him he sagged down onto the well-worn chair. After the Hogwarts Express set off, Harry closed his eyes and rested his head against the cold window trying his best to block out all noises around him. For the first time since discovering that he was a wizard, Harry was dreading going back to Hogwarts.
Harry decided that the grief of losing his parents was nothing compared to the loss of Sirius. He sighed wearily as he attempted to think anything else. Anything to stop the images of Sirius falling through the veil in the department of mysteries, the ghost of his laughter still etched onto his face. It was Harry's fault that Sirius died. They told him it wasn't, but he knew deep down that if he hadn't been so naive in believing he could control the visions without Snape, he knew Sirius would still be alive.
Harry was sure that several hours had passed since they had left King's Cross, yet he couldn't be sure as he heard an erratic knock on his compartment door. As Harry was previously lost in his own train of thought he jerked forward and smashed his temple against the glass window. Cursing, he quickly straightening up whilst rubbing at his throbbing skull. He roughly yanked, the door open to find a terrified looking child shifting nervously from one foot to the other, his robes engulfing his small frame. He looked ridiculous, Harry thought as the young boy continued to stare up at harry. He decided that the boy seemed to be oscillating between fear and wonder.
"Hi?" Harry said, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper from misuse. The boy stumbled over his words as he then tried to relay the message as quickly as possible. "Umm, well, I-I have a, uh, a message from…um, P-P-Professor Slughhorn," The boy thrust a small scroll of parchment out towards Harry, his hands shaking. Harry smiled slightly, bemused at the sight of the little boy. He took the piece of parchment gingerly and managed to mumble a quick thanks before the boy sprinted down the corridor. As Harry resigned back to his previous seat he was sure he heard a muffled thump from outside the compartment door. He's probably tripped over his robes, Harry shook his head chuckling.
As Harry proceeded to scan the letter he grimaced as he felt a headache coming on. The last thing he wanted to do was dine with rowdy Slughorn. His last impression of the man wasn't great. Sighing he stood, stretching his arms above his head and arched his back, before trudging towards the door. Passing the other carriages he thought he saw out of the corner of his eye a flare of red hair followed by a mane of chestnut curls. Ron and Hermione should have been back by now, he realised. They must be too busy with their prefect duties to remember him. They've probably completely forgotten about Harry, or at least couldn't be bothered to look for him. I'm fine without them. What's wrong with a little time alone? Harry thought.
Harry could feel the stares of the other students as he walked passed them;rubbing the back of his neck, he trained his eyes to the ground so as to avoid eye contact. He knew in times like these the last thing people needed to know was that the chosen one was a fraud. Harry knew that if he let anyone get too close they would surely see through his act of bravery. He reassured himself that the growing distance between himself, Ron and Hermione was for the best.
Finally he found himself outside Slughorn's compartment. Looking around he saw an array of students from all the different houses and years. Harry haven't even met some of them before whilst some he unfortunately knew only too well.
"Hi Harry!" beamed Neville happily, his brown eyes warm. What was he doing here? Harry wondered, but then realised that he didn't quite know what he was doing there either. "Hullo, Neville, Ginny" He nodded non-committedly to them both, his eyes straying to anywhere other than their faces.
"Do you know what we're doing here, Harry?" Ginny asked, her tone casual and light whilst flicking her pony tail over her shoulder and cocking a hip. Ginny's eyes seemed to be glittering with mischief as they engaged in small talk. Neville appeared and joined their conversation giving Harry the perfect opportunity to slip away to the other end of the corridor. After all he didn't want to lead Ginny on.
He felt a small twinge of regret in the back of his mind as Harry found that he was alone for the second time that day.
Then without warning Slughorn threw open the doors of the carriage, his large belly appearing some time before his walrus like face. "Harry, ma' boy!" he cried, clasping onto one of Harrys shoulders shaking it slightly as he then dragged him forward. Harry simply nodded his head towards Slughorn and sat down on one of the ornate chairs set up around a large oak table. He hoped that Neville and Ginny wouldn't notice that he had chosen the seat furthest away from them.
Slughorn continued talking however Harry blocked him out, keeping his head down until he heard the distasteful man boom, "And last, but most certainly not least, we have The Chosen One! Mister Harry Potter himself!" whilst Slughorn laughed heartily Harry cringed, he was certain that the whole of the train could hear. He could picture Malfoy pompously rolling his eyes and his pale lips forming a sniggering at Slughorn's dramatic introduction. "What an honour it is to have you here, and be able to talk to you on this fine afternoon, Harry!" Harry could safely say, if anyone was to ask him, that it was the most humiliating train journey he'd ever had.
Draco dutifully bid farewell to his mother, his pale, drawn face, stoic and unreadable like marble. He gracefully boarded the train, trying hard, but miserably failing, to blend into the crowd. He could hear the whispers of his father's name as he walked the agonizingly long path towards his usual compartment with the rest of his fellow Slytherins. He silently took a seat next to Pansy Parkinson. Her short dark hair swinging as she turned to look at him, eyes looking up and down, assessing for any damage. He offered her a quick smile that came out as more of a grimace.
She then started up an animated discussion with Blaize about her new shoes. Draco's eyes slowly looked round the rest of the compartment, seeing burley Crab and Goyle talking in hushed tones, presumably about achieving their dark marks. Next he saw Pansy, her hands on hip, a smirk plastered onto her face as Blaize raised his arms up in submission, laughing. Finally he saw Millicent - much like himself – sitting in a corner observing the room, when her obsidian eyes flashed up and met his own stormy pair. Quickly he adverted his own gaze, unwilling to engage in a conversation with anyone, let alone Millicent, at that moment.
Eventually Blaize was summoned to some special dinner with this new teacher, Slughorn. Considering his father's current political status, Draco understood why he also wasn't asked to join them, he still couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. He was after all still a Malfoy. Pansy finally noticed the lack of witty remarks from Draco. She got up and squeezed in next to Draco. "Are you okay, Draco?" she asked, her heart-shaped face full of concern.
He forced his mouth to speak in a rusty narrative, giving her the usual answers that he was fine. That she shouldn't worry. That he was just tired. She seemed to understand what he felt behind his meaningless words. Draco laid his head down upon her lap, closing his eyes as he felt her fingers comb through his silky hair. His thoughts drifted once again to his task – his impossible task –which the Dark Lord had given him. The mere thought of it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end and his stomach lurch. His thoughts then turned to his father. He knew that his task was only revenge on his farther for his fatal mistake. Its Potters fault that his father had ended up in Azkaban and that he now had to find a way to complete his task. Potter, the naïve little prat, ruined his life and he knew he was now powerless in Hogwarts.
Draco felt that he couldn't control anything in his life anymore. First it was his father. His merciless, cold father whom dictated his every move as a child and still had control over Draco even from Azkaban as Draco's fearful respect was to be ingrained into him for the rest of his life. Next Dumbledore, favouring the Gryffindor's, especially the Golden Trio, not paying any regards to the Slytherins and their needs. Finally it was the Dark Lord, who now held Draco's life in his untrustworthy hands. If Draco didn't complete his task he knew that the Dark Lord would kill him and his family, however not before torturing them first.
Suddenly billowing clouds of choking smoke filled not only Draco's compartment, but the entire carriage. Pansy let out a frankly alarming squeal that made Draco jump out of his seat and onto his feet. He swiftly drew his wand and muttered a spell that was supposed to clear smoke or fog, however it was no use on the magical black haze that blocked everyone's vision. Pansy then persisted to grab Draco's hand and grip it tightly. He could hear people coughing and spluttering around him. But Draco was no longer focused on what others were doing as he could have sworn a figure just brushed past him.
Draco had heard rumours that Potter was in possession of an invisibility cloak, no doubt given to him, by Dumbledore. Yet he wouldn't put it past Potter to use Mudblood Granger or Weaselby to do his dirty work. Probably sent to spy on him. Draco decided if there was any possibility of one member of the Golden Trio he'd better watch what he said for the rest of the journey, if he decide to confide in his friends about his task and one of them found out Dumbledore would probably find out before he even set foot in Hogwarts.
Once everyone had settled down again, Draco began to boast about how his father wanted to move him to Durmstrang this year, but his mother simply couldn't bear for him to be so far away from home. Apparently Hogwarts was far enough anyway, according to his mother. When Draco said that had much better things, more important things, to be doing then messing about in Charms class this year, Pansy spluttered "Surely you can't mean that Draco? Hogwarts might be a pain right now, but when you've finially left everyone says that all the friends and memories you make there stay with you for the rest your life!"
There was a pause as the whole compartment was silent before Draco gave a laboured sigh, "In the real world, Pansy, such sentiment doesn't exist."