Chapter 2

Memories from last year came into her mind. The Hogwarts Games, Dumbledore's death. Voldemort taking control. Her uncle constantly leaving and returning swiftly, only to depart again. To this day, Snape still carefully danced between Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix, the Death Eaters and Voldemort not knowing about his activity with the . Her thoughts locked her away from reality, and anticipation for the upcoming year wrapped itself tightly around her ribcage. "Breathe," she whispered again.

A knock on the compartment door startled her, bringing her mind back inside the train, and squashing her anticipation of reaching Hogwarts for later. The door slid open and Draco stood in the doorway, Goyle currently not at his side. Crabbe had died, really died, last year. He was blown up before anyone had even stepped foot in the Arena. Snape hadn't been able to save him. Unlike everyone else.

"Hey." He said, smiling. Silwen leapt up, and wrapped her arms around Draco as he wrapped his arms around her. "Hi," she replied back, her voice slightly smothered; she had nestled herself to his chest. "Would you like to sit down?" she asked. Draco nodded and they stepped into the compartment. Together, they walked over to one of the benches and sat, Silwen leaning into his chest, and his arm around her waist. "How was your summer?" Draco asked, smile still echoing on his face. "Eventful. Lonely perhaps, but eventful," she said dismissively, and then asked in return "How was yours?"

"Half of it, I was kept inside at home. Not even allowed into the garden. The other half, I was allowed into the garden, but since the dementors were using that as a breeding ground, it didn't really hold that much appeal at the end, the Dark Lord killed my father, as you very well know." He left the sentence hanging in midair, a short silence fell, and then he said, "Your letters kept me alive, Sil."

Draco had grown tall over the summer, she saw. His pale blond hair had thinned. And those vibrant blue eyes of his had dimmed to a quieter shade. His skin looked whiter than bones she'd seen in the potions dungeon. Life had left him, but forced his body to stay prisoner on earth.

"I'm so sorry, Draco. I'm so very sorry he died," Silwen whispered. The arm around her tightened, and she felt a several drops land on her head. "He died to save a rising generation and your uncle. At least he didn't die a coward." Draco said hoarsely.

Gently, Silwen sat up. Slowly, she put her arms around him, and he leaned over, his head finding solace on her shoulder. "He died to save us. If we throw away his gift and forget to live, then he'd have died in vain." Warmly, like an ember heated from a fire, she gave him a squeeze. "We're both the student Slytherin heads, did you know? I saw my uncle read the applications and without even thinking, gave the honor to us. This year is going to be spectacular. And to begin a new topic, no one knows who the new headmaster/headmistress is going to be," Silwen ended her little speech on a speculative note. "Isn't it obvious, Sil? With the Dark Lord in power, it's going to be either your uncle or one of the other Death Eaters. At least we're both in Slytherin. I don't think the Gryffindors will have a good year."

Suddenly, Silwen bolted up. "I'll be right back. I've got to say hi to the others. I'll be right back, I promise. You can come if you'd like. It's not like they hate you or anything. Maybe Ron," Draco smiled wanely, "Weasley won't get over it so quickly, no. Typical Gryffindor, he is." "Draco, be nice to your allies. You really never know when they'll come in useful. Need I remind you what happened during last school year? Anyways, I'll see you in a few moments, love."

A quick kiss on the cheek, and Silwen was walking into the corridor, leaving Draco in the compartment. "I've always wondered why she was put in Slytherin, she acts like a Hufflepuff," he murmured to himself.