A/N: So here is the first chapter at long last! I've been quite busy with school and so on, but now school is winding down and I've got some extra time.

And I thank my beta (yes, a beta!) Kei Lawliet for helping me out. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's characters in any way, shape, or form. If I did... well, let's just say there'd be much more boy love. It all belongs to JK Rowling.

Thank you! And enjoy.

Alone. Completely alone.

Harry found it odd that he was describing Draco Malfoy this way. Without his two lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle trailing after him, Draco was smaller and considerably less threatening.

The blond sat by himself in a train compartment looking down at his intertwined hands, his hair hanging in his eyes. His shoulders were hunched and his knuckles white from his vice-like grip.

Draco didn't look up or even flinch when a certain trio, chattering away, passed his door.

Harry stopped when he came to the window, causing Ron to bump into him and groan about moving faster. Harry wasn't listening: too mesmerized by that dream playing over in his head, of Draco falling to hi s death – this was his chance to change it.

He knocked on the window, making the pale boy jump. Harry pointed to himself, then to the other seat when Draco looked over at him with wide eyes. The blond blinked and looked at Harry as if he'd grown a second head, and Ron gave him a similar look.

"You're not going to go in there, are you?"

Harry gave him a pointed look before glancing back at Draco, who simply rolled his eyes.

The Gryffindor knocked again, a bit more demanding, but was ignored. Why was Draco so stubborn?

Opening the door, Harry went in and took a seat across from Draco. The blond looked up in surprise and confusion at the awkward smile on the other boy's face.

A long silence hung in the air like a thick fog, broken only by Ron's sputtering outside the compartment. Harry cleared his throat.

"Um… hi."

It come out half as a question and Harry mentally kicked himself for sounding so stupid, something that he was sure Malfoy would point out. But he didn't. Instead, Draco groaned and raked a hand through his hair, hanging his head.

"Look Potter, I'm really not in the mood to argue with you and your golden posse. Get out."

Harry shifted in his seat, but he had no intention of leaving so easily. "I'm not here to argue with you, actually," he muttered, grinding his teeth.

Draco sighed, massaging his temples. "Then what are you here for?" He growled, his hands dropping to his lap.

The raven haired teen opened his mouth to reply, but no words came to mind. What was he doing here? He couldn't expect to "fix" anything by a simple conversation on a train, right? Surely he couldn't explain his dream to Malfoy; they had been enemies for years.

But did Malfoy have the right to know?

"I just wanted to say hi. You seemed… erm… lonely."

Draco stared back with an eyebrow raised before turning away.

"Since when did you care, Potter? Don't you have Granger and Weasel to fuss over?"

The retort sounded like the "normal" Malfoy, but it didn't hold any of its usual anger.

"Look, I just figured we could get along now. The war is done and I thought we could start over."

Draco scoffed, "Of course, because everything is always about you. Is that what this is? Do you figure you should pity me to appease your guilty conscience? Because I'm the one person you never gave a chance? Forget it, Harry! Save your pity."

Harry sat still and stiff; his wide eyes having trouble glancing at Draco. Malfoy hadn't looked at him the entire time, but he could feel the cold harshness of those words. It sent a shiver down his spine.

Harry stood and turned to leave. There was something in Draco's voice that made him want to stay – something that needed him to stay, but he turned the handle and left.

He didn't notice pleading silver eyes watching him as he slid the door shut behind him.