Pursuing Bliss

So quiet

Another wasted night

The television steals the conversation

Exhale

Another wasted breath

Again it goes unnoticed

Please tell me you're just feeling tired

'Cause if it's more than that I feel that I might break

Out of touch, out of time

Please send me anything but signals that are mixed

'Cause I can't read your rolling eyes

Out of touch, are we out of time?

Dashboard Confessional - Again I Go Unnoticed

Draco Malfoy gazed out the train window, watching the scenery roll by. It was over. Hogwarts, the war...life as he knew it. His seventh year was done, Voldemort was defeated, his parents were in Azkaban...and he had nowhere to go.

"So how does it feel to be a proper wizard?" a voice asked from the doorway. Draco glanced up, shrugging softly.

"You tell me," he requested, watching as Hermione Granger entered his compartment, closing the door behind her and sitting across from him.

"...Ron and Harry didn't think I should come here. Even if you fought beside us, you'll always be that rotten boy who used to call me a Mudblood."

"That I will," he agreed, returning his gaze out the window. "...How's Weasley, then? Recovering well?" he asked after a long pause, careful to sound indifferent. Hermione suppressed a smile.

"She's doing much better. I visited with her earlier, and she said she'd like it if you came and sat with her. She's dreadfully lonely, in that compartment all by herself."

"I might do that," he mused, frowning as he caught Hermione's smile growing. She opened her mouth, presumably to make some kind of comment on the subject, but he cut her off quickly. "Shut up."

She laughed instead, making Draco's heart ache. How long had it been since he'd heard someone laugh? Years, it seemed. A gentle hand on his knee jerked him from his thoughts, and he eyed Hermione warily.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, concern glistening in her eyes. Draco snorted, adopting the bored tone he was well known for.

"Granger, you're going soft on me," he drawled. Hermione arched an eyebrow, and he dropped the act, smirking. "Don't go all motherly on my, Granger. Go back to Weasel and Potter. I'll stop by Ginny's compartment."

"Alright... Take care of yourself," she instructed, pushing herself up. Draco nodded slightly.

"You too," he murmured, sighing as Hermione slipped from the compartment. It was hard being around her, especially since she could read him like one of her blasted books. She knew what happened during the battle. What happened when Ginny was cursed. Oh, she knew. But she never said anything about it, and that's what really irritated him.

Moments later, Draco found himself making his way towards the front of the train. Towards Ginny's compartment. She'd be glad to see him, he knew that much. He'd helped save her life, after all. When he saw that flash of light and her body crumble to the ground, it felt as if the world had suddenly gone into slow motion. He screamed her name - possibly the only thing he had ever screamed in his life - and fought his way to her, fending off anyone who dared to come within a ten foot radius.

Even now, he didn't know why he'd reacted in such a way. Maybe it was because she had been the first, besides Dumbledore and Snape, to accept his rebellion from his father and the Dark Lord. Maybe it was because she constantly defended him against Ron and Harry, even without his asking. Or maybe it was their conversation before the battle began... Whatever the reason, she was alive. And she looked absolutely thrilled to see him when he slid the compartment door open.

"Draco," she greeted him warmly, struggling to sit up. Madame Pomfrey, who had come along on the train to escort a small number of seriously injured students, made an objective noise. But before she could even start to get up from her seat, Draco had stepped forward and gently pushed Ginny back down.

"Don't go hurting yourself even worse now," he softly reprimanded her, pulling up a chair. The small compartment had been transfigured into a hospital-like room, thanks to the handiwork of Professor McGonagall.

"I do wish everyone would stop fussing," Ginny said with a sulk. "I'm doing much better."

"But you are still very seriously wounded," Madame Pomfrey reminded her, pouring a mustard colored potion into a glass and handing it to Draco. "Be a dear and have her drink this. I have other patients to tend to." Draco inclined his head, eyeing the potion as she left.

"Don't even ask what's in it," Ginny advised, lifting the glass from his fingers. "It's horrible stuff."

"What's it do?" he asked, watching Ginny plug her nose and swallow it down. Her nose wrinkled delicately, and Draco resisted the urge to touch her cheek.

"I don't know, really. I suppose it helps my muscles get their strength back. Makes me feel like jelly," she stated, setting the glass aside with a wince. Draco's stomach plunged, and he touched her hand softly. Ginny looked at him sharply, and the breath caught in Draco's throat. His fingers moved from her hand and brushed her cheek.

"Draco..." she started, and he broke away, eyes dropping to the floor.

"I apologize," he said, standing. "I should probably go."

"No!" she objected, grabbing his hand. "Please don't go." He hesitated, and she tugged his arm, a pleading look on her face. "Please, Draco?" It's so dull in here all by myself. ...And I really want to talk to you."

"What about?" he asked, reluctantly sitting back down.

"I wanted to thank you for saving me," she said, grabbing his hand as he got up again. "Stop it," she scolded. "You did save me, no matter what you try and claim. If you hadn't shielded me, I'd be dead. ...Thank you."

"...It's not like I could leave you there or something. Anyone would have done it," he tried to explain, not really knowing why he was refusing to acknowledge his actions.

"But you did it," she said softly, brushing the hair back from his face. He gazed at her silently, shivering as she touched his neck.

"...Why did you say those things to me?" he asked after a moment. "Before the battle."

"I thought... I thought you deserved to know, in case...something happened," she explained quietly, staring at her hand as Draco weaved his fingers with hers.

"...Why me?" His voice stayed low, cracking slightly. Ginny smiled, squeezing his hand.

"You understand me. Do you remember when I first sat at that table with you in the library?" Draco nodded. "It was the first time you had ever been mildly polite to me. ...Then you were there every day after that. You helped me with my Potions. You listened when I was having problems with Harry or Ron. You were always there for me. I want to be there for you."

"You...you're the only one who believed me when I said I was against my father and Voldemort, besides Dumbledore and Professor Snape. You defended me without my asking - I heard you tell your brother off outside the Great Hall one morning. You didn't even...know me." Draco gazed at Ginny, grey eyes squinting in confusion. "I never did anything to deserve it."

"No one deserves to be exiled like you were. The way Ron and Harry treated you..."

"Was like I treated them," Draco finished, frowning.

"The way you used to treat them. They'll get over it."

"It's highly unlikely," he muttered. "...I'll never change. I will always be Draco Malfoy. Sworn enemy of the Dream Team. It's just the way it'll always be."

"Draco..." Ginny began, trailing off as he stood.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," he said bluntly, eyes closed off from any emotion.

"Thank you for visiting... Can I write you this summer?" she asked hopefully. Draco shrugged, glancing out the window so he wouldn't feel as bad about leaving.

"You can try. I won't be going home, as it's been seized by the Ministry. I will probably be staying at the Leaky Cauldron until I can find a morn permanent place of residence." He could tell Ginny was itching to do something about the situation - perhaps invite him to stay at the Burrow - but she restrained herself remarkably well.

"Alright. Let me know where you'll be staying after the Leaky Cauldron so I can visit."

Draco nodded stiffly and turned to leave, but the door opened before he could touch it. Harry stood on the other side, his usually bright green eyes dulled with fatigue. He stared at Draco before warily greeting him.

"Malfoy."

"Potter," Draco replied, inclining his head. Harry stepped aside and, with one final glance at Ginny, Draco strode from the compartment.

******

"'Scuse me... Do you mind if I sit here? There aren't any other seats free." It was true; every seat was filled by seventh years studying for their Practice N.E.W.T.'s. Draco glanced up to eye the witch addressing him. A Weasley - the youngest and least obnoxious. So he nodded towards the empty chair across from him in consent. The Weasley girl smiled half-heartedly, setting down her books and diving into the first one in her pile. Her attention, however, did not stay with the book. Every so often, she glanced over the top, eyeing Draco. He was well aware of the curious looks he was relieving and, after a few minutes, he put his book down and glared at the girl.

"If there's something you want to know, Weasley, you'd better ask quick," he snarled. Ginny jumped, fumbling momentarily.

"Oh! Um... Well, I'd heard something, and I was just wondering if it was true." At Draco's expected look, she continued, leaning in. "Have you really turned against your father and the Dark Lord?"

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Who told you that?" he asked. Ginny gave him a sheepish look, shrugging.

"No one told me directly... I overheard some Slytherins in my Potions class saying something about you being disowned. Snape heard them too, and he looked murderous. Gave them both detention. That was the first time I've ever seen him take points from Slytherin."

"I'll have to have a visit with him later," Draco mused. At Ginny's expectant look, he frowned, running a hand through his hair. "...I suppose there is some truth in those rumors. I have been called a disgrace to the Malfoy name. My name has been removed from my father's will and they've turned my bedroom into a home gym." He gave Ginny a sardonic smile, pushing himself up. "But then again, it's not really any of your damned business, is it?" With a dark sneer, he grabbed his book and swept from the library.