Draco hadn't been able to get back to sleep after that. Until it was well into the morning, Draco finally began to move. As he did, he felt something poke at his foot. He jumped, and when he looked down, he spotted his wand lying on the bed beside him; he was definitely relieved that his father hadn't decided to take it with him. Though, Draco was sure of the reason why it was still here with him; his father's hands wouldn't have been able to hold it whilst doing other things.
As he slid off of his bed, he let out a shaky breath. He'd been ready to go to school today with no worries, but now he was feeling dazed all over again. He was wondering how his father could think of doing these things to him. He wondered what could've happened in Azkaban to make him go from caring about him to something like this...
Aurors would have been looking for him, and after telling Draco to be quiet and that he was in a rush, he did the exact sort of things that seemed like he wasn't. Draco didn't want to figure out why that was, or why his father might not be worrying about being caught, so he tried to think of school instead. His classes, his housemates, his...
His mind was wandering off course again. He wiped at his eyes; this was getting extremely difficult to do. It seemed now that every other second he'd be fighting back the burning in his eyes.
Draco arrived at Platform 9 3/4 five minutes before the train was due to leave. From the strange passing glances he was receiving on his way toward the Hogwarts Express, Draco gathered that he probably looked fairly sick. There were dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep, and hemost likelylooked much thinner than before from cutting back on the eating. But he tried dressing as neat and orderly as he always did; he only hoped nothing looked wrong enough to be noticed.
"Draco!" A shrilly voice called from down the platform. He turned around slowly, somewhat hesitantly, to come face to face with Pansy Parkinson.
"Hi! How was your summer?" She asked, her voice a bit too loud. Without any consent, she made her way quickly forward and enveloped him in a tight hug. "I just got back from Spain, can you believe it?"
"I can believe it," Draco replied, adopting his usual drawl. He let her hug him, but he stood there quite motionlessly. "And my summer was fine, thank you for asking."
Pansy and himself had gotten a bit closer during sixth year, though he was sure it wasn't as close as Pansy wanted them to be. He knew they'd never survive if anything were to go into a relationship. However, she was the only person that acted as more of a friend to him than anyone else, and he supposed a tiny part of him was grateful for it. Even if she was doing it for her own reasons.
"What did you do?" She asked curiously, pulling away from the hug, "And we'd better get onto the train before it leaves without us." She smiled and took his hand to lead him up the steps; his trunk was lugging behind him. He assumed she'd already put hers on the train. Also, normally, he wouldn't have allowed her to lead him anywhere, but he didn't find himself in the mood to fight it.
"I stayed home," He answered shortly.
"Oh, well that's alright! I heard about your father, and I think that's great! Isn't it?" They both had climbed onto the train and were making their way down the corridor, when he stopped after hearing her words. He nearly stopped breathing. She turned around when she tugged and there was no movement. Her eyes narrowed confusedly. "Draco, are you alright?"
A few more seconds and he finally shook his head to get that uneasy feeling away of him. It didn't help too much. "Yes, I'm fine." Nothing further was mentioned of his father, because she had taken a few more minutes to make sure he wasn't lying to her. So when she started talking again, he allowed her to ramble on about her summer and all the clothes and things she had bought. She even went on about the problems of other peoples' families (probably some she had visited), thinking that he cared, and for once he was thankful for something like this to distract him.
Then, just when he was sure that they were near their compartment, someone bumped rather rudely into his shoulder. The snide remark that would've been thrown over his shoulder in an instant was replaced with him backing quickly up against the corridor wall in surprise. He looked over, and the other looked back at him at the same time. It was Potter. The boy narrowed his eyes at him, and he scowled right back. There were no sorts of apologies exchanged. Potter walked off in the same direction he had been heading.
Draco hadn't noticed that he was breathing quickly, and it was Pansy who brought him out of it again. "Draco, hello? What's gotten into you today?" She sighed and rolled her eyes, tugging on his hand again, and dragging him into a compartment. Sullenly, he pulled his trunk in after them, and set it beside Pansy's own, which was in the seat across from them. "You looked like you'd just seen a ghost, Draco. You really aren't acting like yourself."
He felt her press her hand against his forehead, and as soon as his breathing calmed, he leaned his head back against the seat. "I'm okay, honest." He wasn't even in the mood enough to push her hand away, like he would've usually done. Then again, there were normally more Slytherins around. He wondered where they all were, and then realized that he had come to the platform late.
Suddenly he remembered that he also had a prefect meeting to go to. He let out a tired sigh. Pansy seemed to sense his distress.
"You know... maybe I should go to that meeting alone. We're supposed to be there right now, and you look really sick." She looked at him, and he let his gaze wander onto her. He couldn't tell if she was sincerely worried or just wanted to earn her way onto his good side.
"Yes, you go. Tell McGonagall that I ate something horrible. But don't tell her that I need help, and don't let the Gryffindors hear you."
Pansy nodded, standing up and making her way out of the compartment. For the short second she took to open and close the sliding door, Draco got a glimpse of Potter coming back down the hall. To his surprise, he didn't feel anything.
Something told him that he should be happy right now, to finally have something on the boy; Potter thought his father would be locked away forever, and that Draco would never end up hurting him because of it, but now... everything had changed. There was no urge for Draco to hurt the boy though... but he still felt that small bit of hatred that bubbled up every time they crossed paths. There was nothing more and nothing less.
Once the door was closed, he leaned his head back again, and was thankfully undisturbed for the entire trip. Well, Pansy had returned eventually, but no one had come to wish him well on hearing about his father escaping (most of the Slytherins, that is), which was quite suitable.
Things were starting to look up.