Whispers followed him wherever he went now, even here on the Hogwarts Express they lingered in his wake. Once, Draco would have sought the attention and yet now each whisper felt like a curse against his skin. He balled his fists tight together, suppressing the urge to run screaming. He reminded himself that it was a year at Hogwarts doing labour to rebuild the castle or Azkaban. Hateful, deserved whispers were a small price to pay for his freedom.

Pansy and Blaise followed after him. Loyal to the end. Even with his family name in the mud, his beliefs splintered and his own soul possibly damaged beyond all repair, they were there to help him.

"Death eater," a voice hissed as he passed. He flinched and froze in the middle of the passageway. Renewed whispers bubbled as the students behind them watched the scene - perhaps they were waiting for him to snap. Perhaps they wanted him to snap.

He was glad that the students behind him couldn't see his face as a muscle in his cheek twitched and the shimmer of unshed tears began to seep into his eyes. All the words 'death eater' meant to him were memories of anguish, loneliness and the terrible price he had paid for the decisions he was forced to make.

Pansy reached out a soft hand. Though they had not been an item in several years, her gentle fingers wrapped around his own bought him back to the train. His heart began to pound again and, somehow, he was able to move his legs forwards. During the commotion, Blaise had slipped ahead of them and was now searching for a compartment to spend the journey in. Or rather, hide in, in Draco's case. As he followed after his best friend, he kept his head down, prefering to stare at his feet or the floor than the accusing eyes of the students they passed by.

Then, inexplicably, he glanced up into the compartment they were passing. Of course, it had to be Golden Trio sat inside surrounded by friends and chatting casually. Grins adorned their faces and the faint sound of laughter drifted through the door. Potter, hair a messy black mop on top of his head, eased against the Weasley girl, whilst Granger was grinning over the top of her book as she chatted casually to them. Weasley, Longbottom and Lovegood were all there too, smiling.

Draco had walked past and into their compartment many times over the years with taunts and jibes pouring from his lips and a shield of Crabbe and Goyle. Yet, as he calmly let go of Pansy's hand to grasp the cool door handle, he realised that this time would be the most important of his life.

"Dra-" Pansy's voice was a wobble, coated in several layers of anxiety. Blaise coughed loudly, stopping her mid-name.

Taking a deep breath, Draco turned the handle and took a half step into the compartment. Before his sole had even touched the floor, the Gryffindor's and their gang were stood, wands outstretched. Behind him, he knew that Pansy and Blaise had mirrored their stance, wands ready. Loyal always.

"Potter…" his voice cracked as he choked out his name. He frowned, "Harry…" he corrected.

The opposing seeker lowered his wand though his eyes were still suspicious. He said nothing. Draco suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. He had imagined this in his head before and it had not gone well. The best scenario he had played out was one which landed him back in Azkaban…

He brushed off his hand on his trousers, suddenly worried that he might have got dirt on it. Weasley coughed loudly. Draco swallowed his pride (and vomit) and began:

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he held out his hand towards Harry, "Please, can we begin again?"