Hello, I'm back. Second chapter for you.

Empty and alone

The coach passes a bend of the road and I can see Hogwarts' castle, clinging to his hill and surrounded by the lake. I've always wondered if it was built like this to keep the enemies – what enemies? – out or us students in. I've never liked this place and the thing I hate the most is that, as much as you try, you can't avoid it. There's no place in the surrounding park where its shadow doesn't fall. Some would call it a good and reassuring presence. I don't. This damned place, with its stupid rules and idiot costumes…this prison where we're all locked up. No…where I'm locked up. I think I'm the only one who feel like a prisoner here. To everybody else this is a refuge, a comfort…"The last bulwark against the Dark Side." The hell with that. I hate this place. I can stand it no more. I wanna set it on fire, reduce it into ashes, wipe it away from Earth…I wanna dance on the lawn waving my arms and laugh, laugh, laugh as fire devours and consumes it as the structure gives away and succumbs…just like Draco -- the only thing that made this imprisonment bearable.           

I'm in the Great Hall and I sit at my usual seat now. I see all the other students chatting happy and carefree, laughing, joking with their friends in the hall full of light…and then there's me, wrapped up with shadows. Me, who doesn't let them be. Me, who bothers them because I don't stop accusing them. Draco's gone, but I'm still here. I'm the false note in their perfect symphony, the broken warp that ruins the whole piece of fabric, the dark stain in their perfect picture of light. Exactly, picture…for I don't believe what I see. They try  not to see me, to ignore my existence…but they can't. Everyone, sooner or later, is forced to raise his eyes from the plate, from his neighbor's face…then this dark stain that I am attracts his gaze, reminding all of them what they want to forget. They say I'm crazy, but maybe they are the crazy ones, so busy pretending nothing has happened, so anxious  to forget it, so shocked by the idea of  being guilty of a sin, especially of one so grave. But you can't escape your responsibilities. I'm here to remind them. Also, because of this, I don't go away.           

Here comes Potter with his little friends. Who are you going to fight now, Potter? Who will be your rival? I could almost ask him…Maybe it'll be me. It'd be the most logical and probable choice. Who better of me against Poster-boy? The answer is: Draco. But Draco is dead. And I'm still here.

I leave the Great Hall before the feast is over, and I don't care if it is against the rules.   

My arms are folded and I held them tight against my body, because now that Draco is gone, nobody is here to hold me when I feel like I'm going to fall into pieces…now, I do always feel like this, like I'm going to break. Does Potter ever feel like this as well? I think so. At bottom – very at bottom – he reminds me a little bit of Draco…I wonder if he noticed how silent the passages had became since Draco died. I wonder if sometimes he feels lonely just like me, now that he has no one to fight with, no one to confront every day, no one to beat…Yeah, I do often wonder. Am I deceiving myself I'm not the only one to miss Draco? But I can't answer this question, nor the others…I'm not a Gryffindor.       

Have Hogwarts' corridors always been so empty and cold? Or are they mirrors that reflect me, empty and alone?  

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