He stumbled down the hall, blindly and recklessly, forgetting about the wand in his pocket and the pitch black darkness of the corridor. He didn't know what time it was, nor did he care. All that mattered was that she had left him. Left him to fight in the battle his parents and their colleagues had fought so hard to make happen. He didn't realize yet, but his face was damp with the tears he had sworn to never shed for her.
"You left me," he whispered, unable to contain his emotions.
"YOU LEFT ME," he screamed again, "and you aren't coming back..." He trailed off.
Everything faded, and then fell dark.

"Merlin; I just cannot understand what that Parkinson girl sees in him. That boy is scum," Hermione confided in her best friend Ginny. These girl talks only happened during the free period they shared right before lunch because Harry and Ron were in Divination. Hermione and Ginny had long given up Trelawney's class; her mumblings were too much for the girls.
"I know, I'd rather snog Aunt Muriel than that idiotic git," Ginny agreed, scribbling an incantation on her Charms essay.
Draco surfaced from his… girlfriend, he guessed she was, and stared at the Gryffindor table. Only two eyes were on him, and they belonged to the Granger girl. She looked away quickly, as did he, looking once more to Pansy.
"So how are you and Ron?" Ginny asked, breaking Hermione's dream-like glance.
"How are you and your boyfriend?" Ginny asked, soaked in sarcasm.
"I-we're fine, Ginny. In fact after lunch he's taking me down to The Three Broomsticks for some Butterbeer; you can come with Harry if you'd like." She hoped she didn't sound as desperate as she felt. Being alone with Ron almost seemed like torture lately since he was always hugging her and basically growling at any bloke who came near her like he was an oversized flame-red puppy dog.
"I don't know; me and Harry were going to work on his Potions assignment," Ginny said uncertainly.
Hermione pleaded with her eyes, and Ginny got the hint. She picked up on her best friend's feelings better than anyone else.
Ginny nodded and helped Hermione pack up the various textbooks she needed for her N.E.W.T class.

"Yeah, Ron?" the black-haired boy responded, stuffing his Divination textbook into his satchel.
"Does Hermione seem… different lately?" the Weasley asked, eyes wide and sparkling slightly.
Harry did not want to upset his friend, but he had known Hermione for seven years and she wasn't acting exactly cozy around Ron lately. He kept this information to himself though and reassured his freckled friend.
"Nah, mate. I haven't a clue what you mean."
This seemed to cheer Ron up a bit, and the two friends sped forward to ask Neville for help on their fifteen inch Herbology essay.

Draco eased around the corridor heading to the Room of Requirement, where he spent most of his evenings lately, trying to get away from Parkinson and his idiotic cronies.
"I need to get away. I need to get away. I need to get away
," he thought, passing by the enchanted passageway three times. The door appeared, rusty and ancient, and he slipped in as the door faded back into a cream castle wall.
He sighed and slid into a dusty armchair and slipped into a slumber. It was a nightmare. His father's leer blended into his mother's, and his mother turned into Pansy's pixie face.
"Draco, Draco. Come with us." He resisted, running across a field where he encountered the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord entrusted a mission to him, the task he had failed to accomplish last year, which his favorite Potions Master, Professor Snape, had eventually fulfilled for him. He heaved one sob then shook it off.
"Malfoys do not cry," he heard his dad's voice say in his head. "Crying is for the weak, and Malfoys are not weak."

He woke up with a start. Checking his wristwatch, he noticed lunch was nearly half over and he had promised to meet Blaise to discuss strategy for the next match. He sighed, heaved himself out of the comfortable chair and strode out of the room and down towards the Main Hall, composing himself as he went.