Harry

September 1st greeted students rushing to catch the train to Hogwarts with dark gray clouds filled with rain. Looking at the lonely drops flowing down the compartment window, Harry wondered why he had got into this train. All the joy he always felt from returning home disappeared somewhere. He didn't have the energy to study, the thought of the cozy dormitory, the bed with the well-made mattress on which he had spent so many years, the hole in the wall through which Ron and Seamus were peeking at the girls from the seventh-year didn't make him as happy as it used to. Currently, he associated the castle only with lessons with Dumbledore, searching for horcruxes and preparing for a fight that he knew he would lose anyway.

People believed in him that he would free them from all the evil in the world, but what could he do? Voldemort was the greatest wizard in the world, with decades of experience. How can he, an ordinary teenager, cope with it?! It's not possible. Last years only confirmed this. He couldn't even protect Cedric when Voldemort was a weak creature; he couldn't see through his tricks as he ran through the Ministry of Magic to save Sirius.

The thought of his godfather tightened his heart and brought tears to his green eyes. He had cried so many nights and days for him that he didn't think he had any tears left.

The door to his empty compartment flew open, but he didn't even turn his head from the window, expecting it to be just Ron and Hermione, taking a break from their prefect duties to check if he had hanged himself with his Gryffindor tie. However, the cold voice he heard behind him sent a shiver down his spine.

"Aren't you afraid that I'll treat you with some kind of spell, Potter?" Draco Malfoy hissed, casually playing with his wand in his slender hands.

Harry jumped up, holding out his wand. A lone tear rolled down his cheek and he wiped it away angrily, furious that Malfoy had seen it.

"What do you want, Malfoy?!"