The eyes staring at Luna were blank and empty, staring sightlessly somewhere along the far wall. Luna screamed and tried to stand up, but her head was spinning too much. Slumping against the wall, she closed her eyes and waited for the room to regain balance. When it finally did, she looked in front of her again. The blank eyes belonged to a third year Hufflepuff. She was tiny, Luna noticed, shockingly small, and also long dead. Luna began to wonder how long she had been unconscious.
The sun was slowly peaking through the nearby window, proclaiming a new day. The sun always rises, Luna thought, even on the dead. She got unsteadily to her feet and looked around. The Hufflepuff girl was not the only other person in the long hall. There were children scattered along its floor, all of them dead. Shaking, Luna began to back down the corridor.
Reaching up to pull her hair from her face, she saw that her hand was covered in blood. She didn't know whose. Looking down, she saw that her skirt was heavily stained with the same dark red. She immediately wished she hadn't looked down. Staring at her were another pair of blank eyes, this pair belonging to a fellow Ravenclaw seventh year. His mouth was partially open, as though in the middle of telling her something. You're still alive, he seemed to accuse.
With a muffled cry, Luna turned and ran. She ran as fast as she could, trying to get out of this nightmare. There had to be more people still alive, she thought as she ran past more bodies strewn across the halls, the occasional masked Death Eater ranged among the students. She turned a corner too quickly and slipped on the glass of a shattered window, falling on the floor and tearing her shoulder along a broken desk. She tried to get up quickly, but got tangled in something lying near her. She couldn't help from looking. She was met by another pair of blank eyes, screaming accusations at her. You shouldn't be alive. She felt sick but pulled herself up anyway, not wanting to stay still.
She stumbled down a flight of stairs, falling twice, her shoulder searing and her head spinning, and then darted down another hall. She was relieved to find herself at the top of the marble stairs leading to the entrance hall. There were more people here, more eyes, all asking, begging. Why are you still alive? She tripped on the last step and skidded along the floor. She got up, ignoring the new gash in her knee, the cut on her cheek, ignoring everything except for the accusing eyes and her need to get out of this cursed mausoleum. The large oak doors were sealed, keeping the students from escaping. She threw all of her weight against the heavy doors and fell sobbing into the fresh air of a new dawn.