Draco's POV

Stepping aboard the train, Draco did his best not to be seen. Not exactly easy when you're the laughing stalk of Hogwarts. He moved swiftly, twisting and turning to avoid people. Nearly running, he hurriedly looked for an empty compartment while trying to ignore the whispers that seemed to mock him. His instincts told him to run, to leave and never come back. He gritted his teeth and continued to march forward. One step at a time. I will not back down. Glancing around him, he realized everyone is glaring at him, including the Slytherins. He looked forward and runs head first into some bulky Gryffindor.

"Hey watch it Malfoy," he spat. "No one is going bow down to you anymore. You're just one of us now. A lowly Slytherin."

The Malfoy only shot a glare and moved past him. All Draco wanted to do in that moment is disappear. To not be stared at. To not be the previously cocky Draco Malfoy. Not for the first time, he wished he was someone else. Anyone else.

He looked into a half-open compartment, and he locked eyes with Pansy Parkinson. He hadn't seen her since his trial.

"Merlin! Pansy, why didn't you respond to my owls?!" He noticeably relaxed once he found his friend.

As he moved closer, the girl hissed at him. "Because you're a dirty traitor!" Every word was like a blow to the chest. "You killed Crabbe and then you went and somehow managed to get Potter to defend you." He shamefully looked down at his feet, trying not to fall apart. "How did you do that? Did you tell give your gold to the weasels so the pathetic turd would save you from prison? Or did you promise him a kiss on the cheek?"

Malfoy felt anger bubbling inside him, and glared at Parkinson. "Potter is not pathetic! He's twice the person YOU'LL EVER BE!" Why am I defending him? I hate him, Draco asked himself.

Pansy hums. She had her arms crossed but seemed ready to hex her ex-friend. "So it's true. You have become a mindless Potter fangirl just like everyone else." She looked disgusted. "Just get out of here." She can't even look me in the eye.

Draco spun on his heel and walked out, too angry and hurt to look back. Right as he left the compartment, he passed Goyle and he could just barely hear him whisper murderer. That made his knees weak. Knowing that he was completely alone. It made him sick. He moved as fast as he could without collapsing.

Slamming the door to the first compartment he could find, he released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. I should never have come back, his mind shouted. I'm a Malfoy, and Malfoys belong in Azkaban. Draco felt his body flung forward slightly, and he realized that the train had started moving. Of course. I guess I'm stuck now.

He sat down and ran through a few quick breathing exercises his therapist taught him. In. Out. Focus on exciting things in the future, not the battle that happened. The war changed him. Of course, it did. But it also made him feel things that he didn't know was possible. He'd be completely numb, but feel everything at the same time. There were no good feelings. No happiness. No excitement. Just pain and emptiness. The war made him feel things that he would never have understood before even if someone tried to explain it. Which makes it so much more lonely, since anyone willing to speak to him couldn't understand what it's like to feel so much that you think you're going to explode, but at the same time feel so little that you think you're going to implode. Every single day his mind held it's own war. Draco hated that so much.

His mind started to ponder everything that happened in the past four months. The battle. There was so much blood. And Crabbe.Tears reach the young boy's eyes for the third time that day. It didn't seem to matter how long it had been. It would still hurt so much. The mix of pain and guilt was almost unbearable. At first, he didn't try to make the feelings go away. He seemed to think that he deserved to hurt. Stop. Malfoys don't cry. But Malfoys aren't supposed to be in prison either. It was all too much. To suddenly lose everything. For one day, to be Prince, but the next, less than a peasant. He thought back to the day of his parents trial. Damnit no, it's too painful. He couldn't stand to think about the disappointment his father seemed to radiate or his mother's haunted sobs.

Then Draco's eye suddenly snapped open. Potter. This is going to be the first time I've seen him since the trial. His heart beat faster at the thought. Fingers started tapping from the anxiety. Relax. It'll be alright. Just take deep breaths. Why do I feel like this? I shouldn't be this bothered by that rat. Right in that moment, the door slid open to reveal an anxious looking, emerald-eyed boy. Eyes as green as a fresh pickled toad. That sentence does not do his eyes justice. I guess that's what happens when a 12-year-old writes a poem. A nervous voice interrupted Draco's musings.

"Malfoy. It's nice to see you. I'm sorry about your parents."

"What do you want, Potter." Just seeing Potter brought back so many memories. None of them good.

"N-nothing", he stuttered. "I just wanted to show my condolences."

"Well keep it," Draco growled. "I don't need your pity. I didn't need it then and I don't need it now." His voice got softer as he spoke but no less angry.

"Look, I didn't come to pick a fight, I just wanted to be friends." Harry seemed genuinely concerned. Something that Draco wasn't used to. Who would want to be friends with me? Even I wouldn't want to be friends with me.

"Friends?" He scoffed at the word.

"Yeah. A friend is someone that cares about you and will help you." He gave the blonde a crooked smile, while Malfoy just kept glaring.

"I know what a friend is Potter, I'm not stupid. But why?" This must be some sort of joke Draco's mind keep going back to the trial. How Harry stood up for him, how determined he looked, and everything that happened after. First the kindness he showed at the Wizengamot and now this. This can't be real.

"'Cause I care and I wanna be there for you. Also, I know what it's like being an outcast and having everyone pissed at you." He didn't respond, just held the other boy's stare, silently calculating whether he could trust the raven-haired boy or not."Let's start over."

Harry walked closer, cleared his throat, and stuck out his hand. "Hi, my name is Harry Potter and I'd like you to be my friend."

Draco studied him for a second, before standing up, grabbing the hand, and giving a small smile for what must've been the first time in ages. What the hell. Might as well give him a chance. I don't have anyone else anyways. "My name is Draco Malfoy, and I'd be happy to be your friend."