Hello everybody, so sorry this has taken a few weeks to get up, I really want to do this story line justice so I'm taking it slow, please be patient with me especially as I've had deadlines! Hope you enjoy and please review if you have time, Sylvie x

Harry was tired, really tired. He felt like he'd only had three hours sleep the entire summer holidays, and his friends could tell. They were cautious around him, taking every precaution not to say the wrong thing, scared of Harry's explosiveness that had come to light last term. Hermione's gentle calls of "Harry, are you okay?" were setting his teeth on edge.

Of course I'm not fucking fine.

He wanted to scream at them both, and sit at the other end of the Hogwarts express. But he had to keep his cool, he loved Ron and Hermione so much, and he couldn't afford to make any more rifts in their friendship. They were the only family he had left; he couldn't begin to image Voldemort wrapping his cold and corrupt hands around them, leaving Harry devoid of any comfort in life. Harry had to stop people from dying because of him, and that started now.

"Yea thanks." Harry replied for the umpteenth time to Hermione, self-consciously making sure his jacket sleeve was covering the most part of his right hand. Harry had punched a wall as he had woken from another nightmare the previous night. It was usually about his parents, Cedric, or his godfather, and he always awoke to find his pillow damp and his covers bunched at the bottom of the bed. But last night was different, it was another one of those Voldemort dreams as he had come to name them. The ones where he either was with Voldemort, or was Voldemort. Where he felt his every emotion, his every move, taste and touch, vision and sound. Harry couldn't remember much about the scenery and who he was with, only anger, incredible anger, which would explain the wall punching. His heart was hammering like a booming drum when he woke, and he saw through his weak eyes the blurry red colour spreading across his fist as he homed in on the pain. Harry had had to tiptoe to the bathroom and wash his hand, holding his breath as his knuckles pulsated with pain. It wasn't how he had planned to spend the night before coming back to Hogwarts (as sleep never came back to Harry after that), but he didn't have a say in a lot of things his brain did anymore.

Ron sat carefully next to Harry, as if trying not to startle a baby bird, and Hermione sat opposite. Harry knew that this would be a long journey back to Hogwarts, he missed the days when it was the most exciting day of the year. He thought he might be able to get some sleep, but then remembered his sleeping habits that were out of his control, and made sure keep himself busy to stay alert. His eyes were stinging from being awake for so long, he knew the bags under his eyes and his pale skin were evident on his face.

Looks like I'm being a member of the walking dead for the rest of the day.

But it seemed that he wouldn't be the only one in this situation. As Harry was looking out of the compartment door, he saw a willowy white figure creeping past. A closer look at the pale face and white blonde hair revealed that it was Draco Malfoy, but not the one he had remembered from last term. This Draco was deathly pale, and seemed to have a grey shine to his face and eyes. This Draco looked like he'd been beaten up. There were scratches on his face, his hair was not dissimilar to Harry's messy style, and Draco was not swaggering around like usual, he appeared to be hobbling.

Draco caught Harry's eye for a split second, before disappearing on the other side of the compartment door in a blur. Ron and Hermione hadn't noticed or recognised that it was Draco that had walked past the compartment, so Harry was left to contemplate Draco's new appearance. He would have thought life wouldn't have been so bad for him now Voldemort was back in power, and Draco could make even more disgusting threats to Harry and his friends.

Oh yea…

Harry thought with deep satisfaction, as he remembered Lucius Malfoy would be dining with the dementors for many nights to come, in a hole for a home. Draco's family name was disgraced in both the wizarding world's and Voldemort's eyes, he was nothing now.

Probably why he looks so rough.

Good.

Harry decided that reversing their roles and becoming the bully Draco was to him would not work in Harry's favour, but Harry would NOT be kind to him. Not ever. Harry would not hold back others who wished to prod and poke Draco to humiliate him, that was their choice. But for now, Harry would merely observe this strange parallel universe Draco.

The Hogwarts feast was over, and everyone was nursing their full bellies back to their common rooms for a good night sleep. For most anyway. Harry had lost the capacity to eat like a normal sixteen-year-old boy because of his Aunt and Uncle barely feeding him for six weeks, so he had just a little food in his chestnut sized stomach. Harry also didn't sleep, not much anyway, certainly not the conventional good night's sleep everyone talked about.

As he, Ron and Hermione walked from the great hall towards the Gryffindor common room, some noise and commotion stopped them in their tracks. There were laughs and shouts, this didn't sound like any joke, the shouting sounded vicious and the laughs harsh. Harry panicked, as he assumed someone was being targeted.

The three of them pushed to the front of a small crowd that had formed, and Harry's sympathy quickly left him. The group were heckling at none other than Draco Malfoy. This was a very rare sight indeed.

"Your father's scum Draco. I suppose the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." As one of them spat at his feet. Draco was facing them side on, his head bowed so low Harry thought his neck might snap. He couldn't see his face.

"You've got no right to come back here. You should be locked up with him." Another shouted, followed by quieter agreements from the crowd. Draco didn't flinch the whole time, Harry thought he may have been petrified he was lifeless.

"Not got anything to answer with? That gob of yours finally fallen silent now you realise how much of a twat you are?"

But before Draco could have said any retorts, the blockage in the corridor had been noticed by the teachers, and Professor McGonagall came waving her arms for people to move along. Draco took a short look at the main heckler with dead looking eyes, the healing wounds on his face illuminated by the light, before hurrying off towards the Slytherin common room. Harry noticed that weaker looking walk again, no hint of any confidence or air of superiority in his posture, just an average, skinny boy.

"Blimey. He's changed, hasn't he? Wonder if You Know Who gave him and his mum a hard time after that idiot tried to be a death eater." Ron mused as they were walking through the portrait of the Gryffindor common room. Hermione looked in very deep thought, as if her head might have expanded from concentrating too hard. Harry knew this meant Hermione had noticed something unusual, and that she'd be taking a long trip to the library tomorrow. Harry shrugged his shoulders at Ron's remark, he hoped it was true, but didn't care if it wasn't. He had no mental energy to spare for that wicked family and their ties with Voldemort. The only thing he could think about now was his God father.

Harry went to bed with a fuzzy head that night, before realising that Ron's rhythmical snoring was actually very good for his sleep.