Phoenix

Draco was sitting on a hill, looking out over the Black Lake, and thinking over what had happened in the past few years. A name, well, the person attached to that name, came up frequently. Years ago he would have called him his enemy. How foreign a thought that was now. They weren’t really enemies anymore. They weren’t really anything anymore. The latter hurt just as much as the former, though. He threw a rock behind him in frustration with himself.
When a bird squawked, he quickly turned around, only to see a phoenix, ruffled and beating the air. He slowly stood up and stepped towards it, but the phoenix backed away from him. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, quickly, and knelt back to the ground again, looking at it. “I’m sorry I threw that stone, I didn’t think anyone was behind me,” he explained to it. The phoenix appeared to ponder his words, before slowly stepping towards him. A smile broke over his face as he watched the creature move forward, apparently trusting him for some reason. It stopped again, tilting its head, looking like it was trying to return his smile, and then it stepped forward again, until it stood in front of him.
He softly reached out a hand to touch it, and it let him pet it. He marveled at the creature, then he saw that it was beginning to get dark. “I need to get back to the castle. I’ll be back here tomorrow. I’m here every day, actually. Uh- goodbye,” he said, standing up and beginning the trek down the hill. He got back to the dorms just at curfew for most of the students. Being a prefect meant that it didn’t apply him, however. He only had to be back in the dorms by midnight.
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Harry flew back quickly after Draco left, heading high up into the sky to avoid being seen as he went back to the castle, landing and quickly changing out of his animagus form and beginning to make rounds. He always found several Gryffindors out of bed, usually third and fourth years making out, and occasionally fifth or sixth years getting a little too comfortable. He always saw Draco on his rounds, and nodded to him as they passed. Draco usually returned the gesture, and occasionally added, “Harry,” to which Harry would respond, “Draco,” and they wouldn’t see one another again until the next day’s classes. Or in this case, probably the next night, as it was Friday.
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The next morning Draco returned to his spot on the hill, thinking again, along the same lines as always. This time, though, his thoughts were interrupted after half an hour by a loud hawk-like screech to his left. Startled, he looked over quickly, saw the phoenix again, and smiled. “Hey. I’d have thought you’d have something better to do than come up here to sit with me, but I’m not going to complain.” The phoenix simply sat down next to him and stared out at the water with him. They sat in silence for an hour, then Draco went back to the castle.
This routine repeated for several days, then one day, after half an hour had gone by, the two sitting in silence as usual, Draco spoke up, “You don’t have to listen, but I don’t have anyone to talk to, so I’m just going to talk to you. I’ve been thinking about the past few years, lately. Everything that’s happened. I never wanted to be on either side of the bloody war, but why did I have to be born into a family that was on the wrong side of it?” He threw a rock again, looking before he threw it this time.
“Sometimes I can still feel that hug, if you could even call it that. It makes me want to scrape my skin off. I wish I could forget it,” he said, putting his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, before slightly changing the subject, “Bullying Harry, Hermione, and Ron was the closest I got to having a childhood, and what kind of messed up childhood is that? I wish I could go back to my first day at Hogwarts. Do it again. God, if I could’ve just shut my entitled mouth I would have gotten to be friends with Harry. I’m pretty sure that would’ve changed everything, if I’m honest. I wonder why he saved me from the fire. I’ve thought about asking him, but I’m too scared that the answer will be ‘because he wouldn’t let anyone die.’ Why am I even telling you this? I guess it feels nice saying it out loud, but…” he trailed off. The phoenix moved closer to him, and softly flapped its wings. He reached out and petted it again.
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Harry felt guilty after that day. Draco believed he was talking to a bird. A bird who couldn’t tell on him, a bird that probably didn’t understand what he was saying. Not that Harry would tell anyone, but he figured that he was probably the last person Draco would want to tell that to. But he couldn’t not go, either. It kind of seemed like this bird was his best friend at the moment. Maybe his only. And he would probably feel awful if his new friend just suddenly stopped coming, so Harry kept meeting him every day, for a couple of weeks.