I had to be dead.

Looking back on it, I it had been a suicide mission. I hadn't been thinking rationally, my hatred for Snape masking every other emotion in my body. But why would that change my thoughts about Malfoy? Why would I go out of my way to save someone who probably wouldn't think twice to help me? Yet, when had I ever thought rationally?

I groaned, turning my head to the side as a throbbing sensation rushed through me. My eyes shut in pain, every nerve aching. I could feel every cut, every burn. It was like I had been tossed into a washing machine, turned over and over again until I couldn't tell up from down. Cursing, I pressed the palm of my hand to the skin above my ear, gingerly tracing the outline of a swollen bruise. Every pulse ached through my veins; every thought pierced my head as if someone was pressing the tip of a knife slowly into my temple.

Since when did being dead hurt so much?

"Andy?"

The voice sounded hushed, as if I was hearing it through water. I struggled, twisting in the bonds that held me down. My legs were trapped. Red-hot fireworks exploded behind my eyes. The voice was calling out for me, sweet and gentle. My body was sluggish to respond. Suddenly, hands were on me, pressing into my shoulders and pulling me back down. I barely resisted, collapsing, already out of breath. My neck was sore, my throat on fire. If this is what Heaven felt like, I didn't like it.

"It's alright, Andy, it's over."

It was over? I didn't understand. My mind whirled, more fireworks exploding. When I tried to open my eyes, my vision ran red. What was over? The battle? There had been no battle. No one at Hogwarts had ever stood a chance. The voice was back again, whispering something in my ear. It was a girl. An angel?

I opened my eyes slowly, squinting into a bright light. I could make out her golden hair, the glare like a halo around her head. The silence and blurred vision seemed to end suddenly, as if I had been startled. Everything came into focus like someone had pressed a button. The muddled buzzing that had filled my head disappeared. Someone yelled and I twisted my head sharply, looking directly into a pair of wide blue eyes.

"Luna!" I cried. My fingers twisted in rough fabric and, looking down, I realized I was lying on a makeshift cot. The discolored sheet that had been covering me was thrown to the side; the pillow that had been under my head was dotted in red droplets.

"Hello," Luna smiled said, smiling. Her white teeth practically glowed against the blood on her lips. There was a large white bandage wrapped around her head like a headband, and her robes were torn down the front, her Ravenclaw tie shredded at the tip. Her face was covered in dirt, almost as if someone had just picked up a pile of debris and tossed it to her when she hadn't been looking. The dirt had been washed away in places. It was like someone had taken a thin paintbrush to her face, the trails cutting through the coat of grime. I tried not to notice the dried tears, concentrating on her pale eyes. If Luna had been crying – I didn't want to think about that.

"Luna!" I cried out again, pulling her into a rough embrace. She giggled lightly, wrapping her arms around me. I buried my head in the mess of her hair. From over her shoulder I recognized the Great Hall. Or what had once been the Great Hall. The tables had been removed, though bits and pieces of benches still scattered the floor. Dishes and cups were everywhere and scorch marks decorated the walls as if someone had taken to it with a blowtorch. There were hardly any windows still intact. The clear glass panes were missing, and I didn't want to turn around to look at the gaping hole that once was the stained glass masterpieces. I knew they were broken, just like everything else. Cots like the one I was lying on where everywhere. The ones who weren't injured walked around, bending over bundles of blankets and bandages that I realized, with a sickening lurch, were students. The Great Hall that had once been so beautiful had now been turned into an infirmary. I cringed, pulling Luna closer to me and ducking my head in the side of her neck. Somewhere, a girl was crying hysterically for her mother. Trying to block out her screams only seemed to make it worse. I tried to distract myself. I tried to focus on the fact Luna smelled like smoke and burnt hair.

"You're – you're – " My tongue seemed too thick to form any more coherent words. She was alive. A little banged up, but alive.

"You're crushing me, Andy," Luna said calmly. I opened my eyes, pulling away as quickly as I had grabbed her. But Luna was still grinning wildly.

"I'm sorry." The throbbing was coming back again. My adrenaline rush was over, and it was already starting to have an affect. I reached for my head, resting my elbow upon my knee. Closing my eyes for a moment, I fought to keep the wave of vertigo that had suddenly hit me at bay. "It's good to see you, Luna."

Luna smiled her crooked, wide-tooth grin. "I am glad to see you are alright too."

I smiled grimly. "So I'm not dead?"

Luna laughed, throwing her head back. Her cackle was so loud that heads turned, but I couldn't care less. No matter what happened to her, no matter how ugly it got, that girl could not be broken.

"Nope. Just a bit worse for wear, I suppose, but you'll survive." Luna cocked her head to the side again as if her comment confused her. After a moment's hesitation, she opened her mouth again. "Though I don't know if I can say that for everyone."

The smile slid slowly from my face as I took in everything around me. I searched the crowd, over the heads of dozens. Some were in their cots, while others stood in small groups, heads bowed. A girl and a boy were hugging; the girl's face was pressed against the boy's chest. The boy had his chin rested on top of the girl's head as he stared unseeingly at the wall, quiet tears streaming down his own face. I blinked, twisting my head back around, looking one last time for the familiar flash of silver hair.

"Luna," I said, "where's Malfoy?"

Luna didn't answer, instead lifting her arm to point one long finger in the direction that the staff table once stood. I didn't see him at first; the mass of cots and bodies were difficult to see past. But it was his hair that caught my attention. It had always been his trademark, and the platinum strands seemed unusually stark against the see of black. Luna didn't ask why, which I was secretly grateful for. The last thing I needed to do was explain everything that had just happened when I barely understood it myself.

Pulling myself up out of the cot was harder than it had been to mount the thestral. Luna had her hands around my waist before I even realized I was falling. Stumbling, I managed to right myself. The bump on my head wasn't throbbing as badly as it had been, but I still felt like someone was holding me a few inches below a tank of water. My head swam unpleasantly, my vision blurring. But I pushed Luna away as soon as I felt steady on my own feet. I didn't have any time to waste standing around feeling woozy.

Mumbling thanks, I told Luna that other people were in need of her help more than I was. She nodded, her pale eyes stealing one curious glance in Malfoy's direction before turning.

He was sitting alone. At the time, it didn't occur to me how strange that was that there weren't two shadows added to his own, or even a dark haired, fawning, hormonal teenage girl. But at that moment Malfoy wasn't anything to fawn over. His head was bent over his knees, which were curled up against his chest. His back was to the open window; he seemed unaffected by the amount of shattered glass surrounding him. The stained pieces crunched underneath my feet as I stepped closer. Malfoy's head shot up at the sound and I froze. There was a large gash running across his cheekbone, directly under his left eye. He was covered in white strips of bandages; a part of his sleeve was gone, his upper arm bound tightly. A large bruise the size of a tennis ball discolored his hairline. But his battered body wasn't what made me stop.

The eyes that I had once come to dread were no longer haunting. The cold grey held an emotion that I had never seen before, least on the boy who thought that he had everyone in Hogwarts in the palm of his hand. His gaze slid past me for a moment, over the tipped chairs Professor McGonagall and so many other teachers had sat in. When they finally came to rest on me again, his eyes were shadowed, more broken than his bones would ever be.

"What do you want?"

I hesitated. He didn't stand, still staring from his spot in the corner. "What did Snape say to you, before . . . "

Malfoy's eyes dropped at the mention of Snape. I couldn't imagine what he was thinking at the moment. A man he had trusted with his life had just attempted to end it. Angry probably wasn't even the beginning of it.

"Not much." Malfoy stared back at his hands. One of them was splattered in blood. "I thought I was going to follow him out of the castle, but when he turned around –" He stopped. When he turned towards me again, his eyes were clouded.

"Why did he try to kill me?"

Every nerve in my body wanted to turn, wanted to run. I didn't want to be there, not when everything else was falling apart. Focusing on the cut underneath his eye, I cleared my throat. "Do you have anywhere you could hide?"

Malfoy blinked, turning back to look at his bloodstained hands. "Hide? My family . . . my family has safe houses across the country."

I repressed a knowing snort. Of he would have a safe house. And not even one, but multiple. "That even Voldemort doesn't know about?"

Malfoy thought for a moment. "Yes."

"I would suggest you lie low for a few months." The eyes that had once been unwilling to meet my gaze were now unmoving, fixed on me with an expression I couldn't place. I was uncomfortable, but I wasn't going to let him see it. "At least until everything –" I was going to say 'blows over', but as I thought about it, I was starting to think it never would. I cleared my throat. "If you knew what was good for you, you'd stay away."

Someone from across the room yelped in pain and Malfoy jumped, his eyes darting. I knew I wasn't going to get anything else out of him, that continuing the conversation would be pointless. But I still hesitated.

"Andy!"

My eyes scanned over the Hall for the voice, the deep voice that had made my heart skip. He had come back – after everything, he was here. My dream had just been a dream. I was already smiling, my lips forming his name when Neville came running up, his faced flushed.

"Andy! I'm so glad I found you!"

I must have looked like a fool. I was still smiling, still waiting for the head of black, unruly hair that would suddenly pop up out of nowhere. My gaze skimmed over Neville, back over the crowded Hall. His glasses would be broken, his face splattered in blood. But he would be there, he had to be.

"Andy?"

My mind put it together quickly, but not quick enough. The stupid grin that had overcome my face disappeared as if someone had slapped me. My eyes focused on Neville, his red cheeks, the hair plastered to his forehead. He was talking to me, but I couldn't hear him.

" – has been looking for you. What happened?"

I must have looked confused, because Neville barely stopped.

"It's alright, Ron and Hermione are fine. I was with Ginny earlier. We split to find you."

I was so stupid. Harry wasn't there. As much as I wanted to believe it, to wish it, nothing I did was going to get him to show up. For all I knew, he was –

"ANDY!"

I vaguely remember Neville's arm around me and Ginny was suddenly there. She smelled like dirt and her clothes were singed, but she was alive as well. Ginny hugged both of us, squeezing me so hard I felt a bit guilty for Luna, wondering if I had truly grabbed her that tightly. When Ginny pulled away I saw the large scratch that covered most of her jaw. Her lip was split and her nose was red with dried blood.

"After you ran off, I had that awful feeling that I was never going to see you again," she said.

"Ah, you can't get rid of me that easily," I said.

"How did you end up in here? I was all over the castle looking for you."

"I don't know," I said. "I woke up to Luna hovering over me."

"Luna's here?" Neville said. I nodded, barely able to point in the direction before he was gone.

Abruptly, Ginny glanced around quickly as if she was searching for something. Her smile melted slowly as she took in the Great Hall, her eyes narrowing.

"Ginny," I said. My voice sounded small. I didn't know why I was suddenly afraid. The attack was over. "Are you okay?"

"Have you seen Harry?" Ginny said. My limbs turned to ice. "I went looking for him after – " Ginny stopped searching, her eyes coming to rest on me; she was completely distressed. "Andy, he's not here. I know he's not here."

I hesitated, unable to wipe the knowing look off my face. Ginny was many things, but she wasn't stupid.

"Andy, where is he?"

"Ginny, I – " I hesitated. I didn't want to watch her react the same way Harry had.

"Andy! Ginny!"

I could recognize that voice anywhere.

"Hermione!"

Ron was with her, his eyes as wild as his hair. They looked as if they had been through hell and back. But I knew I was hardly any better. Hermione's hair was fierce, and so was her expression.

"Andy, have you heard?" Hermione said. Her eyes were puffy, red from crying. "Dumbledore – Dumbledore's dead." Her voice cracked. Everyone around me shifted their eyes, even the people who were listening in on our conversation. Hermione didn't seem to notice them. "His body – he fell from the Astronomy Tower!"

"Snape killed him." It was almost a reflex. As if I was trying to get rid of the blame.

"Snape? How do you know?" Hermione let out a sob again, turning to bury her face in Ron's chest. Ron looked down at me from over the top of Hermione's head, wrapping his arms around her. His usually vibrant blue eyes seemed dark his face creased with lines that aged him.

"Andy," Ron said, his voice eerily calm, "where's Harry? When I couldn't find him, I reckoned he was with you."

Everyone turned to look at me in the same moment, three pairs of eyes on me at once. I froze, not knowing where to look.

"Andy," Ron repeated slowly when I didn't answer. His grip tightened around Hermione, if it was intentional or not. I took a deep breath. I couldn't hide it any longer.

"Harry's not here."

"What?"

"He . . ." I searched for the right words. There were none. "He left."

"Andy, what are you talking about?" Ginny looked like she was going to slap me. I wouldn't have blamed her if she had.

So I told them.

I told them everything. From the moment I had met Neville on the train to Voldemort's appearance in the ministry. I told them about Umbridge, about Snape's betrayal. About Harry himself. The longer I talked, the deeper Ron's eyebrows seemed to furrow on his forehead. As I told them what had happened in the past twenty-four hours, the confused frown on Ginny's face slowly turned into a scowl. Hermione's expression never changed, her usually warm brown eyes stone against her face. I was beginning to get unnerved, their stares enough to cause me to look away, to find a spot above their eyes, as long as I didn't have to look at them. I barely noticed when Ron started shaking his head, but I stopped mid-sentence as he grunted dismissively. My mouth hung open for a moment, my pause long enough for him to start mumbling incoherently to himself.

"What?"

Ron was smiling, but it made my blood run cold. "You expect me to think –"

"Think what?"

"That you would do this."

"That I would do what?"

"This" Ron lifted his arms to wave them around his head in a crazed motion. "All this – "

"I'm not lying to you, if that's what you're hinting at."

"You're not lying? Oh, who would have guessed?"

"Ron!"

"I don't believe you," Ginny said suddenly. "Harry would never run off like that. Not if he knew – "

"That's the thing, no one knew," I said. "I didn't even know."

"You didn't know?" Ron was fuming. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"That's not what I meant, Ron," I said.

"Then what do you mean?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Ron rolled his eyes.

"That explains it, Hermione!" Ron wasn't looking at any of us anymore. His skin was a fresh, new shade of red. "I mean, it does fit, doesn't it."

"Wait just a minute, Ron!" I was trying to hold my ground, trying to explain. But I knew it was going horribly, horribly wrong. And just like the last time, there was nothing I could do about it.

"Wait for what? There is nothing to be waiting for!"

"Hold on."

It was at those two words my heart sank. Hermione stopped crying long enough to look at me clearly, and it was not a look I appreciated.

"Why would Harry run off if you told him that? It doesn't make any sense."

"Because you knew about the Ministry," Ginny said slowly, barely missing a beat. "About Sirius."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't.

"You knew?" Ron whispered. It was almost as bad as him screaming at me. In fact, I knew right then I would have the latter. "You knew he was going to die?"

"He – " I didn't want to say yes. If I said yes, it made me seem like a murderer. I was not a murderer.

"So you did know!" Ron's voice was rising. I hated the screaming as much as the whispering. "You knew it was a trap!"

"I protected Harry," I said. "I protected you. All of you. You don't think I'd do anything for you?"

"Harry loved Sirius," Ginny said. She could have smacked me across the face and it wouldn't have hurt as much as those words did. "Harry loved him, did you know that?"

"Of course I knew that." Now I was whispering. I couldn't look at them anymore.

"Then why?"

I forced myself not to stutter when I picked my head up to stare them in the eye. I wasn't going to look away. "If you knew - " I shook my head. "I couldn't save him. He was supposed to die."

"But you didn't even try!"

Ron's sudden outburst caused me to start.

"What are you talking about?"

"You didn't even try to save him, did you?"

"He was supposed to die, Ron, how was I going to save him?"

"That's not what I said," Ron said. He stopped then, silence hanging in the air.

Ron's words sunk in slowly. He was right. I had done nothing to save Sirius. Instead, I had held Harry back as he had tried to save his own godfather. I had stood by and watched.

It wasn't any different than if I had pushed him myself through that veil.

I was a murderer.

"You know, there's a difference between you and Harry." Ron stepped forward. "I see it now. Harry was willing to drop everything to save my father, no matter how crazy everyone thought he was. And you didn't even stop twice to think about his own godfather."

"What?" I shouted. Beside me, Ginny cringed. "Is that what you think I did?"

"No, that's not what I think you did," Ron said. His face was growing red again with anger. "I know it."

"You don't think I wanted to save Sirius?" My heart was sinking slowly. It was playing out the same way. I was losing them.

"I don't know," Hermione moaned. She closed her eyes. "This is all so confusing."

"Harry's in trouble, Hermione," I blurted. I wasn't going to keep any more secrets from them. "I know he is. When he left – he was captured."

"Captured by who?" Ron said.

"Voldemort."

The color that had once flushed Ron's face was gone. Hermione went rigid. Ginny gasped. I held out a hand timidly. "Please, you have to help me. We have to find him before it's too late."

"You're lying." Ron was shaking his head again. "You have to be lying."

"I'm not lying, Ron," I said calmly. I had to keep calm. For their sake, as well as mine.

"No, you are lying. Voldemort would never – " He swallowed hard.

"Ron, he has Harry." I left out the part about the dream. They didn't need any reason to doubt me now. "He has Harry, but Harry is alive. We still have a chance."

It was silent for a moment. I let out the air I had been holding with a shaky breath.

"No, Andy," Ron said. "See, this is where I know you are lying."

"What are you talking about? I already told you, I'm not lying." My hands clenched into fists at my sides. I wanted to scream, I wanted to shout, I wanted to make them understand.

Ron looked like he was going to be sick. "Voldemort would never take him alive."

He was right, and I knew it.

"I don't understand it either, please," I said. "Something's different this time. But I swear to you. If we don't find him, I'm afraid we'll be -"

"Stop! Just stop!" Ron said. "We can take it, Andy, you don't have to make this up." He was crying. I had never seen him cry before. "You don't have to cover this up like you did for Harry."

"But I'm not covering anything up!"

Ron made another disgruntled grunt. Hermione looked at me like she had never seen me before.

"Please, you've got to trust me."

"I don't know," Hermione's gaze didn't waver. "If Harry didn't trust you, I don't know if we can."

It took me a moment to respond. No. I hadn't heard her right. My head was still swimming in that imaginary tank of water. That rock had hit me just a bit too hard. "You can't be serious, Hermione."

Hermione didn't answer. She turned away, to look back over the crowd that had gathered. There was always a crowd.

"Come on." I took a step forward. Ginny stepped back. I froze, staring at her in horror. "Please, I'm not – "

"You need to leave."

Ron's voice was so low I barely heard him. When he turned to me, his face was hard, set into a scowl.

"Ron! Please, don't – "

"I'm not asking you," Ron said, drawing his wand. I backed up. He stepped forward, pointing the wand directly at my heart.

"You can't – " My gaze was pleading. I was begging. Ginny adverted my eyes. So did Hermione. But Ron's own gaze was set. I couldn't stop him.

"Please. . ."

"Get out, Andy," Ron said. Tears were running down his face again. He screwed his eyes shut once, shaking his head one last time. He stepped forward again, his wand inches from my chest. "Leave."

I ran. I ran just as I had run earlier, past the people watching, past the piercing gazes. The doors to the Great Hall were gone and I bolted through the gap without pausing. The halls were hardly in better shape; bits of stone littered the floor. The hundreds of paintings that had decorated the entryway were gone. The doors to the courtyard were open, the tip of the sunrise just visible above the bridge. I stopped, staring out the wide gap. The colors radiated gold and orange, dancing off of the scarred stone and burnt floors. How could something so beautiful come out of something so ugly?

They hadn't believed me. They had yelled at me, just as Harry had yelled. They blamed me. They didn't trust me. I was starting to cry, hot tears rolling down my face. They had thrown me out. I was nothing to them but a fraud. Didn't they see how much it was hurting me? Couldn't they see all that I had done? My blood flared unpleasantly, shooting through my veins like fire. But most of my rage was towards Ron. He would have cursed me if I hadn't have left, and I knew it. There had been nothing stopping him.

But I couldn't blame him, could I? He was just trying to protect Hermione and Ginny. But they didn't need to be protected from me. None of it was my fault. I had done nothing to change their lives, so why did I have to suffer?

My thought was cut off when someone cursed. I whipped around, towards the staircase. Or what was left of the staircase. The entire left side was missing, the stone steps just hanging in the air. On the first step was a student, a boy with bright blond hair. He was struggling, slowly making his way up the right side of the steps. There was a bright white bandage wrapped around his head, and his green-embroidered hood was torn in half. It only took me a mere second to realize who was walking away from me.

"Malfoy!"

He froze, turning around so quickly I wouldn't have thought I had just seen him limping. His wand was in his hand; it was clenched tightly in his gasp. I ran towards him fast enough to see his eyes widen with recognition. He made to turn around again, but I was already at the staircase

"Did you know?"

"I don't think I understand – " His eyes were down. He was trying not to look at me.

"You know perfectly well what I'm asking," I said, my voice rough and unkind. But I didn't care. When I stepped forward, Malfoy retreated up another step. "Did you know about the attack? Did you know Voldemort was planning to break into Hogwarts?"

Malfoy didn't answer, but that was all the evidence I needed. I whirled around in frustration, turning back to look at the Great Hall. "I'm not here to yell at you, as much as I might want to, Malfoy," I said. When I glanced over my shoulder, Malfoy was watching me curiously. It took me a few tries to come up with the nerve to say what I said next; I turned to face him fully. "I need – I need your help."

I had been wrong, there was nothing different about Malfoy.

He smirked, his eyes flashing, not even trying to hide his sarcastic snort. "You need my help?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. If you knew about – " My throat suddenly felt tight and dry. I swallowed hard. "If you knew about tonight, then do you know where they are going to go? What did Voldemort say he was going to do?"

The smirk immediately melted off his face. Malfoy cringed at the sound of Voldemort's name, eyelashes fluttering like someone had slapped him. "He – He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did speak of plans," Malfoy hesitated, thinking hard, "but why would you want to know?"

Could he really be that stupid?

"Look." I shoved a finger towards his chest. Malfoy jumped back as if I had pulled a sword on him. "I may have saved your sorry little pureblood ass, but that doesn't mean anything has changed between us. Don't think I've suddenly forgiven you for all you did."

Malfoy pushed away, shoving my hands off his robes. Anger flared across his face like a ripple of water. "All I've done? You broke my nose."

"And I'll do it again if I have to. Don't mess with me, not now – " I couldn't help it. My voice cracked. I stopped, pressing my lips together tightly to prevent anything else from slipping past them. Tears were already starting to burn in my eyes, and my dry throat was searing. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I wasn't going to let Malfoy watch me cry, not if I could help it. Turning away before he could see, I turned, walking deeper into the entryway, deeper into the castle.

"He knew something," Malfoy called out. When I turned around he looked surprised, as if he hadn't been expecting me to answer. Lowering his voice, he sent a cautious look over one shoulder. "Something even . . . even Dumbledore didn't. He was planning to use it against the entire Ministry, against the world."

"What?" I wiped my face with the back of my palm, over my mouth and across my left cheek. "A weapon?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I don't know. Why would you think I would know?"

I threw my arms up into the air, my throat starting to throb uncomfortably again. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you belong to a family of Death Eaters."

Malfoy, if it was even possible, went pale. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, you can think whatever you want," I said. "But that's not the point. Harry's gone, and I need to find him."

"You thought I was going to help you find Potter?" Malfoy said incredulously. From the bottom of the stairs, his hair glittered in the rising sun, but his face was sunken and shadowed. His eyes flashed again, his expression darkening. "If that's what you want from me, then you should have let the balcony crush me."

At first, I didn't know what to say. I was stunned that he would say such a thing, that the thought had even crossed his mind. Letting out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding, I stared unblinkingly into those grey eyes, the anger that had fueled me so long ago replaced only by pity.

"You don't understand, do you?" I didn't even wait for him to respond. "Why doesn't anyone seem to understand? This isn't about you, for once in your life. This time it's more than that. But no, you can't leave your ego far enough behind you to help me. If I don't find Harry – " I was going to start crying again. My hands clenched into fists, my fingernails digging into my skin hard enough to draw blood. Anything to distract me. "Harry's the only hope you have left to a normal life. Do you want to live as a fugitive? The moment Voldemort figures out you're alive, he'll kill you. . . You know what. I'm sorry I asked." I turned my back on Malfoy, towards the empty school. "Go back to your little posy of friends and smirk over the grieving children. I'm done with you."

My footsteps echoed through the silent corridor, and it was then I noticed where all the paintings had gone. Canvases were strewn across the ground, over and under the rubble. An empty frame by a marble dragon missing a wing was broken in three pieces. A young girl decorated with a crown of flowers hid behind a tattered curtain in her painting, the red roses on her head drooping and gone altogether in some places. Most of them were empty though, scratched and scorched beyond repair. I could feel Malfoy staring at me, his gaze boring a hole into the back of my head. But all I wanted was to get out of there, and the sooner I did that, the better.

"My friends are dead."

Turning slowly, I saw that Malfoy had moved. He stood facing me, one hand on the broken step closest to his left shoulder.

Malfoy's eyes weren't flashing then; I could have sworn they were glistening. "They killed Vaisey and Graham over by the library." Even though I had no idea who Vaisey and Graham were, I kept my mouth shut, waiting to see if he would continue. Malfoy seemed to realize what he was doing, that he was actually talking, and started, turning around to face the wall behind him. I should have just walked away, but something made me hesitate.

"Why would Voldemort be killing Slytherins?"

"How should I know?" Malfoy was suddenly yelling. He still didn't turn, pressing his head into his hands, his shoulders hiding his face. "Why does everyone expect me to know? I don't know what's going on! I don't know why this is all happening! Why can't anyone just take that for an answer!"

The hall rang with his voice for a few moments before I could think of anything to say. Part of me wanted to comfort him; I knew he was crying. Part of me just wanted to hug him and cry, to sit on the floor and let it all out. But it was Malfoy. Malfoy hated me as much as I hated him. But I still felt myself taking a few steps forward. Malfoy glimpsed me underneath his arm, and his pale face flushed for the first time. He sniffed, wiping his face with his bandaged arm, twisting away quickly. I didn't reach out to touch him; my hands were limp at my sides.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Truly, I am."

Malfoy's shoulders stiffened. He let out one last sniff, and when he turned his face barely showed signs of distress. His cheeks were still pink, but his normal skin tone was already beginning to settle, draining away the color. His eyes were still glistening, but they held no trace of tear.

"What are you staring at?" Malfoy barely wasted any time getting back into his usual persona.

"Nothing." I dropped my eyes to the floor. A crash from the Great Hall caused us both to turn. I blinked, staring at the side of his face. My heart felt like it had been torn out of my chest and stomped on, yet still beating. He had been my last hope, my last chance of understanding. Of finding Harry.

"Goodbye, Malfoy."

As soon as I turned, I let the tears I had been holding back fall silently.

I was alone again.

My footsteps echoed eerily, becoming thunderous the deeper I walked into the castle. There had been more damage than I had thought. Entire walls were gone, windows smashed, doors left in splinters. Coats of armor were scattered in pieces, one of their swords embedded deeply in the stone wall next to a tipped trophy case. Bronze and silver medals lay thrown across the floor, surrounded in glass as thin as snow. I was no closer to finding Harry than I had been the moment he had walked away. Stopping suddenly in the hallway, I screamed aloud in pure frustration, kicking a piece of wood out of my way. It hit the wall with a hallow thud.

Nothing made sense anymore. Voldemort wanted Harry, but he wanted him alive. I didn't know whether or not to be hopeful or terrified. If what Malfoy had spoken of was true, if Voldemort really was waiting to use something no one saw coming, a secret weapon, then all hell hadn't even begun to break loose yet.

"Goodrich!"

I started at the sound of my name, whirling as heavy footsteps sounded. My wand was in my hand in less than a moment, my lips already forming the curse that would knock the assailant off their feet, maybe through one of the shattered windows.

"Stop!"

Malfoy was suddenly standing in front of me, pushing my arm to the side as a jet of red light shot from wand. The curse hit the wall and ricocheted, darting across the corridor and off the hilt of the sword stuck in the wall. The sword itself shattered in an amazing explosion, bits and pieces of metal racing through the air, razor sharp. Malfoy threw his arm out, pushing me to the side as he waved his wand, deflecting the shrapnel with a flick of his wrist.

"I don't want to talk right now, Malfoy."

It took me a moment to adjust myself; the encounter had stunned me more than I wanted to admit. I was gasping, leaning against the wall.

"Did you just try to curse me?"

"No – yes – " I shook my head. "It's just you were – stop it! Malfoy, what are you doing?"

Malfoy stepped back, placing his wand back in his robes. "I thought it would be simple."

I frowned, pushing myself off the wall and past him, not even taking a second glance. I didn't need to deal with Malfoy. What he had said back by the Great Hall had been enough. Trying to get anything out of him would just be a waste of precious time.

"Where are you going?" Malfoy said. I ignored him, shoving my own wand back into my robes. I had already developed a weak plan; I needed to stay focused long enough to get into Gryffindor Tower, if it was still there, and grab everything I needed. And then I needed to get out of the castle. I'd figure out what to do after that then.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Malfoy seemed to realize he wasn't going to get me to stop. I heard his footsteps again, running as he fought to catch up with me. "Goodrich, I said stop!"

"You already told me what I needed to hear, Malfoy," I said, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of looking him directly in the eye.

"I didn't say anything!"

I snorted, turning into the next corridor. It was as bad as the one I had just stepped out of, if not worse. Malfoy was saying something again, but I wasn't listening. Then it was quiet. I continued walking, hoping that I had lost him, that he had gotten bored. That was when I felt something close around my arm. I twisted, my other arm wheeling backwards as I threw my fist over my shoulder. Malfoy's hand shot out and grabbed my fist, which had just been inches away from his face.

"I'm not going to let you do that again." Malfoy threw my hand down, letting go of my arm at the same time. I ignored the comment, trying desperately to control my anger. He stepped back, as if I was going to take another swing at him. "You didn't let me finish."

"Finish what?"

"I'm going to help you."

I coughed, not entirely sure I had heard him correctly. Maybe he had hit his head harder than he thought. It had all been said in a rush, as if he had been trying to get it out as quickly as he could. "You are going to what?"

"Don't act like this is such a surprise," Malfoy sneered. I was a bit sad to see that his ability to make a mockery of everything hadn't been injured. He shifted his weight, as if he was uncomfortable. His eyes were everywhere but me.

"Don't act like it?" I said.

"I told you I didn't say anything, and that was true. I might have mocked you back in the Great Hall, only because I was surprised, but I didn't disagree."

"You were surprised," I said, frowning again. Inside my head, I bet myself he couldn't go two minutes without feeling sorry for himself. "Whoops, my bad."

It was Malfoy's turn to ignore me. He turned as if he was going to stalk away, but just ended up walking in a circle. "You know what, I'm sorry I said anything."

"No!" I said quickly, reaching out. My fingers brushed his shoulder, the thin material of his robes sliding from underneath my fingertips. He stopped, turning.

"You are going to help me?" I couldn't stop my eyebrows from rising in surprise. "Really help me."

His eyes raked over my face before he answered. I suddenly felt exposed, as I had back all those months ago in the secret passage. I still remembered everything he had done. "Snape tired to kill me. If my mother and father ever knew I was alive – " Malfoy rubbed the palms of his hands against his eyes roughly before continuing. "It will kill them on the inside to think of me dead, but you are right." He spit out the words as if they had bit him, as if the thought of me being the correct one just poisoned him. "If Potter's going to end up saving the world, God save us then."

"You're serious?"

Malfoy nodded, a barely-there motion. His eyes held mine, steady and clear.

"You do know that if we get caught, they will kill us." I wasn't trying to scare him off. My heart had already been broken multiple times that night. I didn't think I could take it if Malfoy promised to aid me in my search for Harry, only to leave the moment my back was turned.

"If you thought I didn't know that, you must think I'm pretty thick."

I laughed even though Malfoy had been completely serious. He stared at me curiously as I stood there, giggling.

"You don't even know where to begin," I muttered low enough he couldn't hear. My head was screaming in protest, yelling obscenities in the back of my mind. A part of me knew I shouldn't be getting my hopes up, that what I was doing was extremely wrong. It was still Malfoy, the boy who would give anything to save his own life, no matter the consequences. He wasn't really the best ally, if he even was one. But I knew I was going to need all the help I could get.

I was going to find Harry.