Draco strides through the fifth coach of the Hogwarts Express, where most of the seventh-year Slytherins gather in the compartment, but he isn’t paying attention to them. His mind is elsewhere, focused on one thing—finding one person. You.

He knows that you’re not like the other Slytherins. And that difference, that distance from everything he’s been taught to value, is what draws him to you, even if it also annoys him. But with you, he doesn’t have to be the perfect Malfoy heir or a servant to the Dark Lord’s cause. He can just be himself, even if that’s something he’s not entirely sure of anymore.

It used to be enough for him to feel like, maybe, he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

But neither of you had sent letters during the whole summer break, though you usually would have. His parents, his duties, the increasing pressure of the Dark Mark hidden beneath his sleeve—all of it has taken Draco away from you.

He sees you before you notice him. You’re sitting alone in the last seat, staring out the window, and for a moment, he just stands there, taking in the sight of you. He feels a strange mix of emotions, as he always does when he sees you. Relief, because you’re here and not with someone else. Frustration, because no matter how close you are, it never feels close enough.

It’s not that Draco doesn’t understand why you have to stay apart, but the silence is a reminder of what’s slipping away.