Harry's POV

Harry found himself turning to Draco almost periodically as the train shuddered forwards.

It was as if he couldn't help but look at the Malfoy, the man he had hated for as long as he could remember. It didn't make any sense to Harry whatsoever. Sure, he'd looked at Draco often enough before, but back then he had been looking for suspicious signs.

What was he looking for now?

Harry noticed that he had subconsciously turned to Draco again, not even registering it as he traced his eyes over the blonde. He was such a mystery, but it didn't seem to Harry that he wanted to be that way.

Why couldn't he just get over their shitty past? Couldn't he see that Harry wanted his friendship?

He thought over the expressions he had momentarily seen in Draco's face. Longing. Hurt. Sadness. Did that mean he'd wanted to say yes? Was he, too, tired of this feud between them? If he was tired of it, why did he not agree to put the past behind them?

Harry sighed to himself as he fought to gather his thoughts. Draco had definitely changed since the war, that much was obvious. He was thinner for a start; whip like and fearful. He kept touching his arm - the one with the Mark - almost disgustedly, as if the very thought of it being there made him sick.

Harry knew he hadn't wanted it, he understood how much Draco had pleaded to be spared from it. The thought made anger rise like fire within himself once more.

It was his fault Draco had gotten the Mark in the first place. Hell, the whole bloody thing was his fault. A lump rose in his throat.

'Don't break down, not here, not now. Stay strong.' He silently willed himself.

There was no way he was saddling Ron and Hermione with his stupid feelings, not after all they'd endured for him. They deserved a new beginning, and they had each other to deal with now. He had to let them get on with their lives, had to let them recover. He could sort through it all on his own. He would be fine.

Once more, he glanced at Draco.

Malfoy looked more muscular than before, his face angular and lean like the rest of him. His eyes as star-like as ever. They shone like silver diamonds.

'What?'

He frowned at himself in the window. What the bloody hell was that thought about? Star-like eyes? Silver diamonds? No. Malfoy's eyes were like ash; boring, dark and grey. Harry narrowed his own eyes. It was too early for these thoughts, he'd dwell on them later if he could be bothered. Now, he just wanted to sleep.

He didn't know exactly how long it took for him to slip peacefully into the oblivion of unconsciousness, but once he did, Harry was visited by the nightmares he had come to expect. He really wouldn't have fallen asleep right there, in the middle of the day, with other people present. But, he'd just been so tired.....

A momentary lapse in concentration was all it took for him to return to the war again.

~~~~~~

Curses flew over his head, around him from every angle.

He was terrified, stuck still, almost watching from another perspective as the cries of pain and loss, anger and despair rang through his ears from all over.

His breathing was ragged, shallow, tearing at his smoke charred lungs.

Bodies fell around him, protecting the defenceless, wandless Chosen One for all they were worth. Each one fell, each one crumpled.

Ron. Hermione. Neville. Luna. Arthur. Molly.

They dropped one by one, lifeless, to the ground. Leaving him, a pathetic ball of fear, alone on the battlefield, shivering in his hopelessness. He was unable to move, stuck under some spell that rendered him completely immobile. There was nothing he could do.

They all died, all of them. He was the only one left.

A swarm of blackness drew nearer to him, chanting words he didn't understand, their faces obscured by large hoods.

Death Eaters, headed by a tall shape with a shaven head, with eyes that were more like slits in his skin, pupils that were simply lines of an impenetrable black - the eyes of a snake.

Voldemort, growing closer and closer to him while Harry was stuck unable to move, unable to run, unable to react.

Voldemort stood above him, eyes red and boring straight through Harry's skull. In his hand, he held the elder wand. A slim line of bone that fit The Dark Lord's hand comfortably.

He grinned, teeth almost razor like; inhuman.

"I will get you, Harry Potter..." The words were hissed in Parseltongue, writhing like a snake through the air towards Harry.

Then, The Dark Lord raised his wand, a screaming green light bursting forth from its tip, flying straight towards Harry, aimed straight at his chest.

~~~~~~

Harry jolted back to consciousness, eyes wide with alarm, the cries of the dead ringing in his ears. He realised where he was and sank his head into his hands, feigning rubbing sleep from his eyes to give himself a moment to calm down.

Ron, Hermione, and Draco were staring at him, confusion on their faces. Draco quickly averted his eyes, seemingly finding intense interest in the corridor once more.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked, worry evident in his narrowed eyes. His expression mirrored Hermione's beside him.

"Yeah, fine. Just fell asleep" Harry stretched, yawning, keeping up the act as well as he could as his heart hammered against his ribs, threatening to break loose. It was painful in a whole other way, how easily that lie left his lips.

Ron nodded, offering a small smile, before resting his head on Hermione's shoulder again.

Harry wasn't fine, not in the slightest.

Panic seized him, but he fought it down, refusing to show it here. Small things like the feeling of the seat behind him, his robes beneath his palms, acted as a means of calming him down. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He wouldn't be falling asleep again, that was for sure.

He looked up again, seeing Draco glance at him, a blush rising on his pale face. What was his problem? Harry turned back to the window, still breathing slowly and deeply. Not long to go now. He could do this. He just had to ground himself.

------

Eventually, the train stopped, coming to a halt at the near-deserted station. Harry caught sight of Hagrid from the window, standing stoic and proud with his lantern held high before him.

He remembered what it had been like, seeing the huge man for the first time. He smiled as memories flitted across his mind. He was brought back by Ron telling him to "Get a move on" and quickly rose to grab his things. His friends were just exiting the compartment, probably going to get a carriage.

Behind him, there was a thud, then the sound of papers scattering in the floor.

"Shit." It was whispered, but clear to Harry's ears.

The Chosen One turned with a start, eyes wide with panic. He quickly realised that it was only Malfoy. He'd dropped his suitcase and it had sprung open.

The dark haired man didn't really think about it, he just started helping the blonde pick up the scattered objects. Again, he saw the rush of crimson in the other man's cheeks, the dilation in his wide mercury eyes.

Why was he so.... flustered?

As Harry placed the final piece of parchment back into the leather suitcase, he was surprised to hear Malfoy speak.

"T-thanks, Potter," came the quiet voice, holding only a trace of its usual venom.

"Don't mention it, Malfoy," Harry answered, smirking as the other man almost ran from the compartment, case clutched to his side.

Harry retrieved his luggage and left the train. He walked towards the carriages quickly as the last students took their seats.

The Threstrels stood as proudly as ever, snorting and stamping their hooves impatiently. Harry realised, with a deep sense of sadness, that many of the students here would now be able to see the creatures.

So many of them had seen death.

He grimaced, banished the thoughts from his mind, and climbed up into a carriage with Ron and Hermione. Neville sat across from them with his toad. Luna was staring out across the lake from the window, in her own world it appeared. It almost seemed like he was back in first year again, going to the castle for the first time ever.

Almost.

------

They made small talk on the way to the castle, discussing holidays and memories; how it felt to be back after they had all thought they were done with Hogwarts.

Harry had to admit, it felt great to talk to them all again, to laugh like old times. He found himself greatly enjoying their company and relaxed almost completely as the carriage trundled towards the towering, overshadowed outline of the castle.

He listened intently as Neville told a story about how he'd discovered a new species of plant on a nature walk over the summer, grinning as his friend explained how he'd only found it after sliding down a hill. The whole carriage burst out laughing at that, adding on their own summer anecdotes after Neville had finished.

They took turns, giving brief descriptions of what surprising things had happened to them throughout the long months after the war.

When it came to Harry's turn, he was hesitant on what to say. 'It's not like I can just bring up these stupid nightmares,' he thought wryly. Instead, he began a tale of what had been happening at Grimmauld Place. He, Sirius, and Remus were working to rid the dank old house of centuries of dark magic.

A feat much easier said than done.

Harry laughed as he explained how the house seemed to be fighting back. Cursed objects that had been removed kept reappearing within its countless rooms, no matter how many times they had been discarded and disposed of. Harry dodged around the subject of how he was feeling, after everything that had happened. He stubbornly refused to throw his troubles at his friends.

"Never better, honestly, I'm just glad it's all over." The last part was truthful, at least.

The four nodded, replying with comments like "Same here, mate," and "Me too!" before launching back into their excited talk. It seemed that, like him, they had put the war behind them, pushing its grasping claws out of their thoughts.

Or attempted to, in his case. 'I wish I found it that easy, none of them seem to bothered by it. They've all moved on, why can't I?'

Harry zoned out, the same thought repeating again and again in his mind, accompanied by snapshot images of that dreadful day.

'Will it ever leave me alone?'

~~~~~~

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