what the stars saw

but the second time and third and all the others set a sense of peace in my soul

The second time it happened might still have been an accident, but the third and fourth and all the others were definitely not.

A few days later, Potter came to the corridor again, with visibly red eyes, plunked himself on the ground and sat there for a while, staring at the wall. Draco wanted to scream because this is my safe space and I found it and I can't leave because I can't be myself anywhere else. But Potter looked so tired and so small and alone. Draco sighed to himself. 

Potter started coming almost every night. He always sat in the same place, slumped frame and all. Draco had been annoyed at first, but seeing Potter so miserable softened his feelings and Draco wondered. He wondered what kind of troubles could possibly The Saviour of the Wizarding World have. Draco subconsciously knew. Draco thought that however unlikely it had always seemed, they might have been going through similar obstacles.

The war has changed a lot for Draco. He doesn't like to think about it, in fact, he tries so hard not to. But the trauma is real, and the evidence of his doom is etched on his skin and somehow people always make sure to remind him that he is nothing but Death Eater scum. Draco knows. Draco knows he is a piece of shit. It didn't matter whether he had wanted to be a part of this mess or not, he would always blame himself for everything that happened during the war. Draco is aware of all this and he is not willing to forgive himself anytime soon. Even though he didn't want any of this to happen. But he wants to forget. It's exhausting when his own brain doesn't stop and he wants it to stop stop stop please I don't I'm sorry I'm sorry I can still hear their screams and it hurts I can't help them it hurts it hurts I'm sorry sorry sorry

Draco was crying.

Silently though, and completely facing the window, because he did not want Potter to see him in such a pathetic state.

Draco was truly pathetic.

And then he heard it. A sniff. And then a second one.

Draco turned around to see Potter's shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Something tugged at his heart. Draco didn't know, didn't understand what his body was doing, why his legs were so forcefully and urgently dragging him towards Potter, but he finds himself sitting down next to him.

Potter lifted his head. Looked at Draco's already tear-streaked face. He tried to say something, but it came out as a choked sob.

Draco couldn't hold it in anymore.

And then they were crying. Unrestrained ugly sobs, tears and all. Crying about life and death and all that happened and they wished, they really wished it went differently. Crying for all the people who lost their lives, for all the people who lost their beloved ones, for themselves because it's so fucking unfair and I didn't ask to be involved in this shit and it's still my fault and I'm so sorry sorry sorry

And if they ended up leaning on each other for comfort, they didn't mention it.