A big thank you to sangkar, Guest, and book_lover_613 for reviewing. You guys are awesome!

My shoulders relaxed the moment I saw the corpse in the gamekeeper's arms. Potter was dead.

The boy never stood a chance. The Dark Lord had everything: experience, an army, power, etc. Potter was merely a child. A child who had only stayed alive this long through luck. But luck does not last forever.

All around me, people were screaming and crying. Fools.

I turned to Draco, expecting him to be looking confident with his chest puffed out. That was not the case. Quite the opposite, in fact. Malfoy was shirking back fearfully, his eyes wide in panic. His face seemed even paler than usual.

I studied him a little further. It wasn't until then that I realized how much weight the boy had lost over the past year. His eyes were red and sunken, obvious signs of insomnia. He looked a thousand years older.

I thought back to several hours previous, when I had suggested we hand Potter over to the Dark Lord. I thought the request was quite reasonable, personally. Needless to say, McGongall disagreed and sent us down to the dungeons immediately. At first, I thought that she was referring to our dorms. That was fine with me, I didn't want to be anywhere near the others. But when Filch led us down an unfamiliar corridor, I knew it was a different story. (Of course, we did escaped later, thanks to a plan thought up by Bulstrode - - although, given another minute to think I could have come up with something twice as brilliant!)

I remember hearing the cries of the younger children, complaining about the cold and dampness of the room. Older ones were pounding on the door shouting threats at the old squib. Other simply leaned against the wall in defeat. I thought for a moment that Malfoy even looked relieved about it. Why would he have to be relieved about? Now he wasn't going to have the honor of fighting with the Dark Lord, the very thing he had been gloating about for months. Something wasn't right.

Perhaps being a Death Eater wasn't all it cracked up to be. Was that why Nott wouldn't join? He he know something I didn't?

I looked back at Draco. He was now slowly making his way over to the other side. Part of me wanted to join him. And yet . . . there was something, something deep down inside of me that knew that I couldn't. I just couldn't do it. Alright, so I was scared, sue me! Honestly, who wouldn't be scared of going to war? I had never killed anybody before and didn't want to start tonight.

That's not to say I am going soft, that is not even remotely true. I still say that mudbloods are inferior, and basically useless. Looking back, maybe I should have joined Draco. I am still having second qualms.

But in the end, whether I regret it or not, it already happened.

There is no changing the past.

What's done is done.

. . . So I stood my ground.

I always hard the fact that in the movie, McGonagall sent the Slytherins down to they dungeons just because Pansy said something stupid. It's completely out of character, also, I mean, McGongall's known for her fairness.

Not my best chapter, I'll admit. Still, at least I updated. Please review. I'll think I'll do Astoria next. She should be much easier.