Aftermath (Drarry)

Chapter 1: "War Wounds Aren't Just Physical"

Have you forgotten yet?...
For the world's events have rumbled on since those gagged days,
Like traffic checked while at the crossing of city-ways:
And the haunted gap in your mind has filled with thoughts that flow
Like clouds in the lit heaven of life; and you're a man reprieved to go,
Taking your peaceful share of Time, with joy to spare.
But the past is just the same--and War's a bloody game...
Have you forgotten yet?...
Look down, and swear by the slain of the War that you'll never forget.

(Siegfried Sassoon)

HARRY:

Harry stared at his reflection in the glimmering water of the lake. It was a beautiful day at Hogwarts, but he had barely noticed. He glared at his unruly black hair that reminded him so much of his father. This unpleasant thought evoked a string of unpleasant thoughts. Dad; Sirius; Lupin; Tonks; Fred; Hedwig; Dumbledore. He had only been back at Hogwarts to complete his eighth year for a week and already his feelings of alienation were becoming overwhelming.

Looking up from his seat on the warm grass next to the lake, Harry glanced around the grounds, glowering at the people chatting heartily with their friends under the blazing sun. He signed with indignation, wishing he could be so jovial. He couldn't feel at ease around anyone anymore - not after everything that had happened the previous year. He was viewed by the whole wizarding community with either reverence or fear - sometimes both - and he couldn't stand it.

Just as Harry was standing up and preparing to head back to the common room (he was hoping there would be fewer people in there), his eyes rested on a figure sat, as he himself had just been, on the edge of the lake, gazing into its murky depth. Draco Malfoy. Harry paused briefly and studied him; he seemed paler than usual and, by the looks of his unkempt hair and clothes, he had rather neglected his appearance when getting ready that morning.

Suddenly, as if he had felt Harry's eyes on him, Malfoy looked up and met Harry's eyes across the water. They held eye contact for a fleeting moment before Malfoy looked away, his face having turned slightly pink, and stood up, hurrying towards the castle doors. Harry stood for a second, shocked at the vulnerability he had witnessed in Malfoy's eyes, before following him inside and heading to the Gryffindor common room.

"Peppermint", Harry said to the Fat Lady when he reached the common room. The portrait swung open and Harry clambered in through the hole. The common room was almost empty; the only people in there were Ron and Hermione - the very last people he wanted to see. He considered just turning back around and leaving the room but before he could decide what to do, Hermione had spotted him.

"There you are, Harry!" she said, smiling. "We've been wondering where you were." Harry doubted very much that they had been wondering where he was; they had been very preoccupied with each other lately, namely, the discovery of the other's lips. It wasn't that he didn't like their relationship – in fact, he was glad that at least some good had come out of the war and he was happy to see his two best friends happy together – but the more time they spent kissing, the less time he could spend with them, and he was feeling more and more lonely by the day. He supposed he was being selfish as, in a way, he was the one isolating himself.

"I was just outside," he said, waving his hand dismissively. He walked across the common room and sunk down into an armchair by the fire. He wondered if he should tell Ron and Hermione about Malfoy but quickly rejected the idea, remembering their 6th year at Hogwarts. He gazed into the flames, trying to think of a way to escape the common room without seeming rude. Dammit, he thought, why do I always have to be so polite? I'm sick of it. Then, having made up his mind, he pushed himself up from his chair and walked back across the common room to the portrait hole.