Draco dragged his suitcase onto the platform. Crabbe and Goyle had offered help as usual but he had declined, opting to stay alone with his thoughts rather than the awkward silence he would have to face with his fellow Slytherins. Some of them felt sorry for him while others cheered him on for the service he was about to partake. He sneered at both kinds indiscriminately.

 

“Slytherin slut,” someone hissed at him as he pushed his luggage trolley past a group of Gryffindors. 

 

He didn’t look up. He didn’t care to. He knew it would be the assorted group of the Weasleys, Mudbloods and Potter. He couldn’t look at them, especially Potter.   

 

Potter had become more of an enigma after his rendezvous with Death Eaters at the end of their fifth year. The Dark Lords minions, including his father, were able to break the stronghold of the Order during battle and managed to capture Potter.

 

Potter had been rescued three weeks after the occurrence and rumour had it that he wasn’t the same. Stories had flitted about how the Death Eaters had managed to crack the boy through abuse of all kind. Draco had laughed then but now, looking at his own fate, he wasn’t too sure.

 

Rumour also had it that his father was somehow the cause of Potter’s escape. Apparently he had given Potter the chance by getting too distracted while indulging himself with the boy. Draco felt sick to the stomach at the thought that this was probably the reason why his father was being punished in the way he was. A boy in exchange for the one he had lost. An acceptable bargain his father must have thought. Draco felt another nauseating chill run through his spine. He stumbled and a steadying hand held his shoulder. Shocked at the sudden contact, Draco hissed and jumped back.

 

He was stunned to find Potter’s green eyes staring back at him.

 

“Don’t touch me you filthy…” Draco began in a harshly wounded voice but before he could complete his sentence Potter limped away almost as if nothing had happened.

 

Draco glared at the retreating back. Potter had been limping ever since he came back from his ‘adventure’. Draco had heard that the wounds on his leg were treatable but Potter had refused any medical help to make the ailment go away.

 

Suddenly Draco felt a rain drop fall on his nose and he rushed in the train to avoid any sudden downpours. He found a comfortable, empty apartment at the rear of the train and proceeded to place his belongings under his seat. He hoped that no one would be stupid enough to want to join him, especially with the foul mood he was in. 

 

Draco sat down to observe the passing scenery as the train began to move. The landscape was lush, green, and totally devoured by the rain. He squeezed his eyes shut as the passing greenery reminded him of Potter’s eyes. His mind sometimes did strange things to him.

 

He loved to imagine how things would be different if events had occurred in different ways. He loved to dream of times when he would beat Potter in Quidditch ruthlessly or when one summer he would return as a sultry, exciting, sexy man and have everyone swooning over him. Sometimes he would dream of things preposterously traitorous. In his mind he would dream of being sorted into Gryffindor and trouncing Weasley at the loyal best friends’ game. That dream, both thrilled and disgusted Draco.

 

Draco put his head down trying to dispel Potter’s eyes that haunted him yet again. He often wondered why so many girls liked Potter. And now he knew his secret.

 

He heard a sound in the compartment but his head hurt too much to care.

 

“Malfoy,” A soft whisper breathed against his ear, “are you awake.”

 

Draco jolted up; shocked, that someone had broken his solitary confinement.

 

Potter’s eyes hit him again and Draco looked away.

 

“Come here to mock me, Potter,” Draco muttered bitterly.

 

Potter just looked at him and sat down after shutting the apartment door.

 

“I came here to talk to you,” he spoke. Draco just rolled his eyes in response.

 

“About what, Quidditch, girls or how your life sucks.”

 

Potter gave him a half-smile, completely unperturbed by Draco’s hostility. His expression became serious again as he leaned in closer.

 

“I know what’s going on, Draco,”

 

Draco’s eyes widened a fraction but he refrained from commenting on the use of his name. He would have sneered something vile at this point but he found no pleasure in baiting Potter any more. Their verbal sparring had come down to a minimum after the infamous events and he preferred to keep it that way.

 

Potter, owlishly, blinked back at the non-responsive Slytherin and resumed his pathetic attempts at starting a meaningful exchange.

 

“We know and we can help.”

 

“Who’s we,” Draco spat out, emotions finally bursting on the surface, “your little posse of friends or your arse-licking teachers.”

 

Potter growled a little and flicked a spell at the sliding doors of their compartment.

 

“What the fuck did you do?” Draco snarled as he jumped up. In response Potter just leaned back in his seat and an expression of nonchalance and self-assurance settled on his tanned featured. Draco kicked the corrugated glass door as all his efforts to open the door failed.

 

“We could do this the whole day.”

 

“Meddle, meddle, all you want, Potter, but you’ll get nothing from me.” Draco crossed his arms defiantly as sat down on the seat opposite from Potter.

 

“You don’t know what you’re going to get into if you go back home.”

 

Draco raised a pale eyebrow and leaned in, “Of course, you would know wouldn’t you, after all you’ve had first hand experience.”

 

Draco felt a slight quiver in his stomach as green eyes narrowed down on him.

 

“You’ll be thought of as trash, shared, and touched, like a filthy little whore.” Potter’s eyes flashed at him. Draco felt his hands tremble.   

 

“My father wouldn’t-“He stammered but Potter cut him off.

 

“Your father would what,” Potter sneered, “He’ll probably want to watch.”

 

Draco leaped up and shouted, “You know nothing about my father.”

 

Instead of standing up to join the challenge Draco clearly provided, he got more comfortable in his seat and drawled in a very un-Potter like fashion. “On the contrary I know everything about your father. Did you know he likes boy or that he fucks like an animal.”

 

Draco squeezed his palms tightly on his ears. “Shut up, Shut up, Shut up,”

 

Potter got up to look Draco in the eyes. “It’s true, Malfoy, it won’t matter if you’re his son. He’ll still find some way to find some perverted way to get it up out of this situation.”

 

“Fuck you, Potter.” Draco, snarled in the other boy’s face.

 

“Sorry, Malfoy, your father has already had the distinction of doing that.”

 

It took all of his Draco’s energy to not knock Potter over. Instead his closed his eyes and fell back on his seat with a sigh that combined all the feeling coursing through his body. He felt sick, tired and cold.

 

A hand slowly made contact with his bandage wrapped one. “I know how you’re feeling Draco.”

 

Draco didn’t open his eyes.

 

“Your life will be destroyed if you accept this as your fate.”

 

“I’m already broken aren’t I? You have your friends to support you. My friends think this is an honour. I have nowhere to go and nowhere to hide,” Draco breathed in heavily not knowing how close Potter had inched nearer to him.

 

“You can come with us.”

 

Draco opened his eyes wide as Potter’s words were breathed on him. Potter’s eyes were right on his and he still hadn’t let go of his hand.

 

Draco leaned in closer, eyes still locked and whispered, “I hate you, Potter. I hope you haven’t forgotten that.”

 

With those words, Draco shrugged off Potter’s hand from his and turned his head away.

 

                                                    

 

 

 

 

Draco looked, as ambling students passed by his compartment, happy and cheerful at the end of their journey. Potter had long gone back to his annoying pile of friends, no doubt craving their sugary, self emancipating environment.

 

Finally, getting tired of sitting around, he decided to get up and face his fate. Even though he remembered all the promises he made to himself he knew he didn’t have the strength to face his oppressors the way he wanted to.

 

He picked up his bag and made his way out of the train. Standing at the edge of the train doors he looked around and soon enough found his mother standing near a pillar. She looked just like he had left her but he knew that the proud, elegant woman he called his mother was completely shattered from inside. They made eye contact and she slowly shook her head.

 

Draco realized in horror that she was telling him not to come.

 

He slowly backed away in the train and jumped as he hit someone standing behind him. He turned around and once again found himself peering into Potter’s ever so green eyes.

 

“You know she’s right,” Potter spoke.

 

“I know,” Draco admitted defeat.

 

“So you’ll come with me.”

 

“Do I have a choice?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

I need someone to look at it because I haven’t re-read it at all. This was meant to be a one shot but I’ll have to post a sequel because of the way it ended up. I hope you guys want to know what happens next.

 

Please Review... Anything and Everything is appreciated.