A/N: This will be slash, so if you don't like it then don't read. The story does not have a beta, so there will probably be mistakes. I will not be updating regularly.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Through the drizzle and mist, I saw the castle waiting for the arriving students like it did every September. With a sense of complete disbelief, I felt my eyes start to prickle and the odd sensation of needing to cry and laugh at the same time, which had become a common occurrence since the beginning of the summer.

"I can do this." I whispered quietly to myself. "I'll be perfectly fine and no one will notice."

A firm hand sat so suddenly on my shoulder that I jumped in shock. I quickly wiped my eyes with my shirt sleeve, not wanting anyone to see the evidence of myself pity.

"What's the matter with you?" Hermione's prim tone came from his left; I turned to find her standing by Ron who had a flushed faced. "You jumped like a spooked horse."

"Sorry, wasn't expecting it." I turned to leave, hoping they would get the hint and let me walk to the castle alone. The footsteps following in my path were answer enough. Sighing at the prospect of having to endure the usual questions about my summer, I started walking faster. If I couldn't be alone, then I wasn't going to take my time either.

Ron and Hermione walked close on either side of me, almost like they were preventing me from escaping. Their looming presences were unnerving after an entire summer with my relatives.

It wasn't long before we arrived to the ancient stone castle. I didn't wait to see if they were still following, instead I headed straight for the Gryffindor table hoping they wouldn't keep trying to ask questions that I wasn't going to answer.

They of course continued to pester me throughout the entire feast. I quickly made my excuses when it was over and practically ran to my room.

It wasn't that I was angry with them - at least not yet I will be soon if they don't leave me alone- but I just really didn't want to discuss anything with them.

Especially when they don't seem to understand that I don't need to talk about Sirius; after all what good would talking about a dead man do?

The constant badgering didn't stop in fact it had only became worse as the days continue. They didn't get the hint, not even after an entire week of the silent treatment after Hermione had carelessly asked me why I was so bothered by the death of a man I hardly knew. Instead of hindering their endless enthusiasm to drive me insane it instead made Hermione decide that I must be depressed, it was the only conclusion she could come to for my hostility. That was when I started to ignore them completely.

Hermione never stopped to think it might be the insensitive comments about my parents, my godfather, and my only living relatives. Not to mention the constant personal attacks. She probably meant well, Hermione always did- at least in her mind-, but it didn't excuse her thoughtless remarks.

Ron was no better. He didn't use Hermione's direct approach of course, that wasn't his style. No, I preferred Hermione's much better. Ron wouldn't talk to me for days, and then out of the blue he would remark on the weather and start talking normally with me. There was no talk of death or Voldemort, or anything other than the weather. Once he had started by mentioning Quidditch, it was probably because we were in the middle of practice, but Ron never was one for being tactful. It had worked at first; I was so desperate to have my friends back that I didn't realize it was a trap. Once he noticed my guard was down, he would bring up the last year. Sirus, Umbridge, Snape. Anything that was a topic that wasn't something I wanted to talk about. It hurt worse because like any other excellent chess player, Ron had played off my weakness, something only those closest to me would know; my loneliness.

It was a cold Halloween this year, something that didn't help my increasingly somber thoughts. Halloween had always been extremely unpleasant for me. No one ever noticed, or just ignored my unusually sober attitude every year. In the past I would play a game of exploding snap with Seamus, help Neville in the greenhouses, in third year I even went with Hermione to the library to just read.

This year though I didn't have anyone to distract me. Hermione and Ron might have been the beginning of the worried friends constantly talking my ear off, but they certainly weren't the last. Ginny was the next one that decided that there was something wrong with me. Neville soon followed, Dean and Seamus weren't too far behind after that either.

It didn't matter how much I told them that I was okay, or how much I smiled, laughed, or just was there. They all thought that something was fundamentally wrong with me. I had even seen Hermione just last week whispering to Professor McGonagall; it wasn't hard to figure out who they were talking about when they were trying to discreetly look at me, neither one of them were successful.

The decision to miss the Halloween feast wasn't very hard. Sure it would probably cause more doubt to my sanity, but if I did attend I wasn't very sure that I would have any left by tomorrow anyways.

An abandoned classroom near Myrtle's bathroom was the perfect hideout. Students rarely missed a feast, and if they did they weren't going to risk going near Myrtle's haven.

The room was dusty but had obviously been used recently. It didn't suffer from the overwhelming feeling of disuse like some of the other empty classrooms in the castle did.

I settled against a wall, letting the quiet help relax me.

Like every year I let my thoughts drift to the unknown and what ifs. Imagining what my life would have been like if my parents were still alive. If Sirius hadn't been taken to Azkaban, if he hadn't fallen through the veil. Sometimes I even wondered what would have been different if my aunt and uncle hadn't hated me.

And like every year before I tried not to, but I couldn't help but resent my parents for dying. No it wasn't them dying that filled me with a bitter longing; it was the fact that they could have switched sides. I never understood why they insisted on being in danger if all they needed to do to keep safe was to become dark. Everyone always said how great James Potter was, how kind and sweet Lily Evans was. If that was true why didn't they care enough about their own son to save him?

They knew the prophecy. If they had told Voldemort he would have spared all of them. I could have had his family. I knew Voldemort would have allowed them to live. After all they were powerful if what everyone always said was true, they would have had made good allies. In my dreams I could hear my mother's voice begging, and then her dying. But she had been given a chance to live, one she wouldn't take causing me to live a life being alone—maybe for forever.

The silence was invaded by footsteps a short time later.

I jump to my feet, intending to hide behind something in case it was Filch, but I never got the chance. The door opened seconds later and my eyes locked onto the pale features of Draco Malfoy.

I didn't know what to say; I hadn't expected to be found and definitely not by the Slytherin Prince. I couldn't tell if the other boy was suffering from a similar shock of seeing someone else, or if he was just ignoring me. Either way I wasn't going to be the first one to talk.

It didn't take long for the blonde to break the silence.

"What are you doing here Potter?"

"I could ask you the same."

"Yes I suppose you could but I won't answer. I guess the better question is why you aren't at the feast?" Malfoy shut the door the door just as quietly as he had opened it, never looking away from me.

"Again I could ask you the same thing."

"Are you trying to annoy me? If you are its working." He said it so matter-of-factly that I started to laugh. I hadn't meant to annoy him, but it seemed that it just naturally happened when I spoke to Malfoy. Somehow I found that incredibly sad, which brought back that damned feeling of the need to cry—something in my present state of hysterics I couldn't prevent. I probably looked like a mess.

"Have you gone mad?" The voice was closer than earlier, something that I found little comfort in.

"No. Maybe." It was hard to stop crying once you start, especially when not even five minutes before you were contemplating why your life is so terrible. I knew I would never live this down. By morning Malfoy would have already sent a picture of my tear streaked blotchy face to The Daily Prophet and everyone will know how The-Boy-Who-Lived was deranged. "Probably."

I wasn't sure but it almost looked like Malfoy's lips twitched just a little bit at his confession.

"That's not very reassuring."

"I don't suppose it is." The crying was coming slower, but the sadness I had felt earlier was returning. I didn't feel like leaving though. Malfoy's presence provided an escape, for just a little while at least. "You never answered earlier. What are you doing here?"

"I don't remember you answering either."

"Well I was here first, so wouldn't that mean I get an answer?" I asked, hoping he would just respond instead of dragging them back into the vicious circle of finger pointing.

"That doesn't even make sense. I'm guessing you won't leave it alone though so I'll answer you. This is where I come sometimes." Malfoy said, amusement coloring his voice.

"That's not a proper answer though!" I tired to say it without sounding like a whining child, but when Malfoy actually smiled at me, I knew I failed. A smiling Malfoy was something I had never seen before though and I couldn't help but stare a little. "You should do that more often."

"What, not answer properly?" The confused question brought me back to the reality, and to my complete embarrassment I realized I had said it out loud and that I was blushing. Not seeing how it could make it any worse, I answered honestly.

"No smile." Instead of being embarrassed like I would have been, Malfoy just smiled even bigger.

"Why are you really here Potter?" He asked.

My shoulders drooped, physically feeling my semi-peaceful mood disappear.

"You know we've just had our first conversation where one of us weren't trying to humiliate the other."

"Yes I did notice that, but stop trying to distract me. Why are you here and not at the feast?" Malfoy said it gently but I knew his patience was running out. What I didn't understand was why I was even thinking about answering.

"I-I don't like Halloween." I looked up to see what the Slytherin thought of that, and was surprised to see the assessing look I was getting. It was overwhelming and was making me nervous. "My parents died on Halloween you know. Well of course you know, everyone does. Except they all seem to forget, and they expect me to just be perfectly normal. But this year I didn't have anything to distract me like usual, so I decided to come here to hide because it's out of the way."

I flushed at the look Malfoy was giving me. It probably wasn't meant to seem so harsh I told myself. What did I say that made the bigger boy so angry?

"Why didn't you have a distraction?" His voice was calm, all playfulness from earlier gone. I felt like I had lost something I didn't even know I had to begin with. "And what do you mean by perfectly normal?"

"Well my friends didn't know they need to distract me because they don't understand about how I feel about today. Since I'm not exactly speaking to any of them at the moment I couldn't just tag a long and hope for the best either." I said trying to decide how to word what I said next. "Well I meant they all expect me to be their perfect little Gryffindor. Some want me to be just like my father, others don't want the reminder of my mother. Then there's the dozens of other things people assume are what I'm supposed to be like because of what I did as a baby. That doesn't make much sense but none of my life really does."

Malfoy didn't answer right away and it made me wonder what he was thinking. It was surprisingly calm sitting here like this and I hoped the other boy wasn't going to leave because I put my foot in my mouth.

"Why did you just tell me any of that when you said yourself your friends don't even know?"

"Huh?"

Malfoy made a noise in the back of his throat that didn't sound very positive.

"I mean why tell me, someone that you probably consider your worst enemy your secrets? Aren't you afraid I'll tell everyone? And why haven't you told your friends?"

"Well you're not my worst enemy, the Dark Lord is. I'm pretty sure there might be a picture of me crying on the cover of The Daily Prophet tomorrow morning, but well you can't have everything right. I'm not really sure why I'm talking to you at all really; it might be because I really have gone insane." I was unsure of whether I should answer the last one, but it wasn't like Malfoy didn't already have enough damaging information. "My friends aren't the most understanding when it comes to something they don't think fits into their perception of me. To them I'm supposed to be a hero. I guess their one of those people who mistakes me for the reincarnation of Godric Gryffindor."

"Hmm." Malfoy was annoyingly silent as he stared at me. "Are you not supposed to be the hero then?"

"No, I'm just supposed to be Harry."

There wasn't anything said after that. Both boys sat with their own thoughts, occasionally glancing at the other one.

"I don't particularly want to go back to the dorms tonight."

"Me either." I looked back into the grey eyes.

"Do you want to stay here with me?"

"Yes."

Neither of them could have known that the answer to that question would have a direct impact on the future of not just their lives, but millions of others.

A/N: Edited 6/21/2011