It was, he decided, the worst possible feeling in the world. All his friends had someone special to them, a significant other, or just someone especially close to their heart that they knew would always be there. It was something he wanted, something he craved for. The touch of life and laughter in his otherwise desolate and darkened world, something bright to lighten his days from the oppressing gloom he had sunk it into.
His best friends couldn't help them. They had each other to have and to hold, indeed in sickness and in health after last night's announcement in the common room. It had almost killed him to admit that now, even though they might have their fights and tiffs here and there, they weren't ever going to be able to love him like he loved them. Like he loved almost everyone he saw, from his brave and noble housemates to the sleek and suave Slytherins who haunt their dungeons late at night. It was pathetic, really, to think that he was so desperate for someone else's love that he would even find good points in the Darkest of wizards.
He would watch the world around him turning and moving on, brilliantly lit shapes who danced with thoughtless grace in and out of his vision as he plundered forward in a vain attempt to save the world that wasn't willing to save him. He sat in the back of classes, green eyes glinting with a desire beyond words and worth, watching everyone around him, willing their warmth, from their bodies or from their hearts, to seep into the chill that marred his steps.