How Are You, Really? (Drarry)

Chapter One: Coming Home

Harry stood on the steps of Hogwarts, staring up at the beautiful façade that he had called home since he was eleven. If one didn't look too closely, it still seemed to be the same grand castle it had always been, but on closer inspection, gargoyles were missing, and there was a crack cutting down the stone steps that simply could not be repaired. Harry had never felt more like the castle – broken no matter how many people tried to fix him.

"Harry!"

He turned to find Hermione running towards him, her bushy brown hair flying in the wind. Opening his arms for her, she leaped at him. Harry caught her effortlessly and twirled her around, making her laugh. "Harry, put me down before you make me dizzy!"

After setting her down, she straightened her robes until they lay flat again. "Where's Ron?" Harry asked.

Hermione colored slightly before saying, "I don't know."

Nonplussed, Harry stared at her, trying to decipher her reaction. "Didn't you come here together?" As graduate students, they were permitted to apperate to the front gates and walk the rest of the way. Harry had waited until the very last moment, hoping to avoid as many people as possible.

"As a matter of fact, we didn't." Hermione bit her lip.

"Why? Did something happen?" Harry had been giving his friends space – in fact, he had been giving everyone space. He hadn't been up to seeing other people for the last, well, since he'd died and risen again.

Instead of answering him, Hermione shook her head. "We better get inside, we don't want to be late."

Harry stayed where he was, not ready to face the endless rows of faces he knew would be turned to him. "Go ahead without me. I'll catch up."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, searching Harry's face. "Alright, Harry. Don't be long." She turned and went through the grand double doors that were propped open. The distant rumble of people talking echoed out, suffocating Harry. He didn't know if he could do it. His chest tightened, and he gripped the front of his robes as if that would help. It was only the sound of running footsteps behind him that drew Harry from the panic that was slowly drowning him.

Turning, he found a tall, too thin, blond man sprinting across the grounds, his robes billowing around him. The sun glinted off his hair created a halo effect. The man was almost upon Harry when he finally recognized him: Draco Malfoy.

Harry froze. He hadn't seen Draco, let alone been face to face with him, since the Battle of Hogwarts. For the first time in a long time, Harry felt something; anger and disgust coiled inside him, filling him with venom.

Draco stopped at the foot of the steps, finally noticing Harry. Their eyes met, and Harry saw that Draco's were solid steel, devoid of anything. "Potter."

"Malfoy."

They stood there, staring at each other until Draco unexpectedly dropped his head with a sigh. Starting up the steps, he gave Harry a wide berth. Anger hit Harry hard. It felt nice, to feel something, anything, given how numb he'd felt over the summer. "Malfoy!" he called out again. Harry didn't know what he was going to say, didn't understand why he was trying to get the other man's attention, but he was.

Draco paused before the entrance. "Leave me alone, Potter. Please."

It was the last word that stopped Harry from saying anything else as Draco walked through the doors. Stunned, it took several moments for Harry to realize he was about to be late. Hurrying inside, he stood in the doorway of the Great Hall, staring at it in confusion. Gone were the four long house tables, each replaced by dozens of smaller tables draped in a table cloth bearing the Hogwarts crest.