Is It Ever Too Late To Say Sorry {DRARRY}

Hogwarts Express

[Harry]

"Goodbye Mrs. Weasley!" Harry yelled as he went on the train.
He couldn't believe he was back on the Hogwarts Express again, after spending the whole summer at the Weasley's house.
The day of the Hogwarts battle, he had thought that he would never see the school again, but there he was, going back to the only place he called home.

"It's Harry Potter!" a little kid who was probably a first year said, pointing at Harry.

"What?!? You mean like the actual Harry Potter?"

When Harry walked in the train, everybody was trying to shake his hand. Students were all yelling, and some even ran up to hug him. Tired and annoyed, all Harry wanted was a bit of calm.

"He looks mad though..." the same little kid said to his friends.

"Look, it would be nice if you would start minding your own business." Harry said, trying to hide how pissed he was.

The kid's eyes widened.
"Harry Potter talked to me!"

      Harry hated how people only liked him because he was the chosen one. He hated how everyone seemed to love him, obsess with him, but none of those people really understood him. He hated how deep inside him, he felt that no one really cared about him. He knew that in reality, it wasn't even him who saved the world. It was him and The Order of the Phoenix and all the wizards who stood against the Death Eaters during the Hogwarts Battle.

     Harry felt lonely in a way that was different from how he normally felt. He wanted someone to understand him, to see through his fame. Sadly, this wasn't something that could be fixed by talking to his admirers.

     He opened a compartment's doors, but found a cuddled couple sharing some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. He checked every single one of them, but they were all filled with passengers.

   There was only one left.

Harry slowly opened the door, and a wave of emotions hit him when he saw Malfoy sitting at the corner. Hesitant, Harry walked in the compartment. The Slytherin didn't even bother to look up.

After a few moments, Malfoy finally lifted his gaze.

"What do you want, Potter?" He asked coldly.

So we're back to that I-hate-you-you-hate-me phase, Harry thought. I thought we'd get over that after you saved my life.

The word nothing was at the tip of his tongue when Harry said instead:
"Silence, and I thought you'd be better at that than the crowd outside. Of course, there's also the fact that you, at least, won't try to hug me for no obvious reasons."

Harry dropped his bag and sat at the opposite side of where Malfoy was sitting. Then, he concentrated on the landscape that flew by the window, carefully avoiding Malfoy's gaze.
His heart was beating so loudly he swore the whole train could hear it, but he was relieved when he saw the blond boy reading his textbook attentively.

[Draco]

The rest of the journey went by quietly, with Potter looking out the window, and Draco desperately trying to read his Potions textbook. Somehow, his attention was always captured by the dark haired boy sitting across the compartment.

Only a few minutes before arriving, Potter fell asleep, his elbow against the window frame. Draco looked up through his blonde bangs, eyes exploring every tiny detail of Potter's sleepy face: perfectly shaped eyebrows hiding behind those oversized glasses, sun kissed skin with a hint of blush around the cheekbones, dark messy hair, and finally, his famous lightning scar.
Draco's gaze then dropped to Potter's slightly parted lips, on which his eyes lingered, for a longer time than he had intended.

Soon, they arrived at Hogsmeade station. The thought of waking Potter did appear in Draco's mind, but was quickly brushed away by another one. It's none of your business.

    Draco stood up and packed his bag.

He was going to walk away when he saw Potter eyelids moving, revealing his ravishing emerald eyes.

Their eyes locked, and for the first time, he noticed how dark Potter's eyelashes were, making his green eyes stand out.

    "Malfoy?"

    An attractively annoyed voice pulled him back to reality.

     "What?" He replied with the same tone, convinced that it didn't sound half as appealing.

      "Why were you staring at me like that?"

       Blood rushed up to Draco's cheeks. Panic. He was panicking for the first time after Voldemort's death. No. Malfoys don't panic.

      "Potter, you really think yourself as attractive, don't you? Let me tell you, someone like me has something else to do with their time than stare at abominable vomit-like green eyes."

      Agitated, Draco walked out of the compartment, slamming the door behind.