Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
A/N: This is just some drabble I came up with one night. Really short, but I hope you like it.
Outskirts of the forbidden forest. Night-time.
You came. Relief. A light caress of the cheek.
You're a wanted man. Hesitant.
I'm not even supposed to be here. If they fin—
They won't. Unsure.
A pause.
Then silence.
It's dark. Moonlight on his pale skin, making him appear dead.
I know. A sigh. Locks of curls tousled in exasperation.
I'm scared. A look.
We all are. Annoyed.
You just don't understand. A worried shake of the head.
Enlighten me. Sarcastic.
I can see them. Almost a whisper.
Them? A raise of eyebrows.
They're staring at me. A far off gaze.
Who are? Worried.
A mumble.
He's really dead, Granger. Desperate. –and it was all my fault. Panic.
The thestrals. I—I can see them.
A sob, and a soft cry of frustration.
A/N: Poor Draco. Well anyway, if it wasn't clear, it's DHr. Yeah, he's talking to Hermione. Review please! Thank you.