"This compartment is usually empty." Harry Potter mumbled, rubbing his arm. He did not look away from my eyes. He is judging me, I can see it in his.
"Perhaps that is precisely why I chose to sit in it." I returned, almost sarcastically, but dry enough to be serious. He finally averted his gaze.
He shifted his weight. I am making him uncomfortable. Naturally, I am, I'm his supposed enemy. I represent the darkness that he claims to be a victim of, and he is. But he is not a victim of it the way I am. "You don't look well."
Potter's voice broke the silence. The sentence was quiet, not offensive. His head bobbed with every bump of the train. Mine did, too. We were in sync.
"Yes, well," I began, looking through the window but only seeing my reflection in the glass. He is correct, I do not look well at all. "You don't look like any less of an idiot than you were before."
He snorted, and I looked up with alarm. His lips were curved into a subtle grin. He was amused.
"I walked into that one," He chuckled.
I didn't know what to say, so I didn't. I didn't say a word.
"I thought, maybe," His words were unsteady, almost nervous. I could understand that. Looking at him, he was just as big a mess as I was. His hair was worse than normal, his face red and blotchy. He was thin and pale. He looked almost like me. "Maybe we don't have to hate each other anymore. Now that Vol-Voldemort is gone."
He stuttered on the name. How peculiar.
"You thought wrong." I looked from Potter back to the window. "His death doesn't make you any more agreeable. It just makes you less important."
"His death. You say it almost somberly."
"Death is somber." I retorted cleanly, steadily, not wasting a breath.
"Well, I can't imagine you're too broken up over the ordeal." He muttered under his breath. I slammed my foot against the carpeted floor of the compartment, making him jump. I saw his hand leap to his wand, his fingers wrapping around the handle. I leaned in closer, baring my teeth the way that a dog would.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I whispered through gritted teeth.
"I mean, that evil son of a bitch tortured you and your family. He forced you into things, and he repeatedly abused and manipulated your parents while you watched." Potter explained. I grabbed his tie- we both had changed into our robes before getting on the train, it seems- and pulled him even closer to my face until our noses were barely touching.
"You killed Voldemort and had every known death eater, the only people I was allowed to care about, sent to Azkaban, where they will slowly rot away and die. You sent my own parents to Azkaban, and they took a significantly worse sentence to cover for me, sacrificing their freedom for my own. They did that and I still cannot forgive them for letting that vile creature into my home.
"Don't you dare, don't you even dare speak of the things he has done to me, and done to my family. You will never begin to understand what I was forced to do at His hand. You will never understand the extent of His torture, and I will never allow you to use that to boast about your accomplishment. To do so would only be to trivialize it, and I wouldn't allow that in a million years."
Potter stared at me, analyzing me, and if I had intimidated him he didn't show it. He only raised an eyebrow at me, before leaning back into his seat.
"What did I ever do to you?" He asked finally.
I laughed. "Nothing, Potter. You did nothing to me." He nodded and pursed his lips, looking out the window. "Earlier. You stuttered on the name Voldemort. Why did you stutter?" I asked.
"Oh I just almost coughed. I have a sore throat."
This was clearly a lie.
"I have a spell for that. I could heal you." I smiled slyly. He said nothing, but he must've known I knew by my smirk.
"Like I would let you point your wand anywhere near my neck." He shot back quickly, not making eye contact.
"Fair enough."
I could tell we were close to the school because the surrounding trees were dispersing and through them, I could see a clearing. I have never been happier to be at this school, or even just to get the hell off this train.
"Potter?" I asked, just as the train started to slow down.
"Yeah?"
"Nothing has changed. We're still enemies." I had to raise my voice so he could hear me over the train's brakes squealing. I stood up as the vehicle pulled to a stop and slipped out of the compartment.
Walking through the crowds of students, I realized that I would just need to get used to the stares. I held my head up, walking with a brave stature and keeping my posture tall.
I'm sure they could see right past my brave face, but they never mattered to me and they certainly wouldn't start now.
I didn't listen to Dumbledore's speech. He barely survived the battle, and you can tell. He talks differently now, his speech almost slurred. His back is permanently hunched over, and he limps. It's a miracle that he's still the headmaster.
I never actually hated him. It pains me to see him this way.
I was sitting at the end of the Slytherin table, with nobody next to me. I left just before the crowd got too difficult to navigate, and quickly retreated to the dorms. The room was just as I remember it. It was one of a few places that didn't need renovating after the battle. The window still showed through to the bottom of the lake, and the floor was still made of damp stone. The walls were engraved with intricate patterns, accented with green and silver. There were torches on the wall, but most of the light came from sunlight shining through the water, giving the room a sea-green hue. The curtains hung elegantly above tall glass windows that gave the entire room an aristocratic look. It was an architectural sight to behold.
I collapsed onto my bed, letting myself drown in emerald blankets. Drawing the bed curtains around me, I finally had privacy. It was lonelier this way.
"Draco!"
I head my name echo off the walls and sat straight up, recognizing the voice instantly. Pansy drew open my curtains. Behind her were Blaise and Nott. Pansy reached for my hand and sat on the bed with me.
"Draco, we missed you on the train. Are you okay?" She asked sweetly. Blaise and Nott sat down too. I looked between them and then back to my hands.
"I figured you guys wouldn't want to see me." My voice sounded frail. Suddenly, several pairs of arms were wrapped around me.
"Draco. We're Slytherins. We don't abandon each other." Blaise grinned, pulling out of the hug. Pansy nodded, "We're family. That's the code, we always have each other's backs, no matter what."
I bit my lip and felt a knot grow in my throat. I didn't want to cry in front of them, so I pulled them into another hug.
Blaise squeezed my arm lightly and laughed. "The rest of the school hates us, mate, we can't afford to start hating each other!"
Sometimes being in Slytherin sucks, but at times like this, it's the best thing that can happen to you.
