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Viewfinder (the Open Eyes remix)

By Nyx Vasquez

Chapter Two - Wide Eyes

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And you tell me that it's over... I wake up lying in a patch of four leaf clovers and you're restless, and I'm naked. You've gotta get out, you can't stand to see me shakin'... No, could you let me go? I didn't think so. And you don't wanna be here in the future, so you say the present's just a pleasant interruption to the past; and you don't wanna look much closer because you're afraid to find out all this hope you had sent into the sky, by now, had crashed... and it did because of me. And then you bring me home... afraid to find out that you're alone and I'm sleeping in your living room. But we don't have much room to live.

--Something Corporate, Konstantine

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"Luna... LUNA!"

I'm awake, goddamn you, you stupid llama! I... wake... what?

Neville Longbottom is standing over me, looking concerned. He is not a llama.

"Oh... hey, sorry, Neville."

"Are you okay? You just fell asleep right at the table..."

"I'm fine."

Neville has become more overprotective, if that is possible, of every single one of us (the gang who were at the Ministry back in fourth year). He peeks around every corner before he continues on, and he constantly checks for signs that people are reading his mail... when he gets any. The reasoning behind this is, Neville got quite a bunch of fan mail during 6th year... and some that you couldn't classify as 'friendly'. Once he was even the unfortunate recipient of a Howler gone wrong, which, instead of catching on fire, exploded in his face and gave him some rather nasty burns.

He's not the chubby kid he was anymore. He has grown skinnier than a giraffe's neck, and his skin is white as snow. His eyebrows are perpetually furrowed, and his face is creased with worry. He jumps when Blaise Zabini (his boyfriend) wraps his arms around Neville's shoulders and burrows his face into his neck.

"Darling, relax. You're far too nervous," Blaise says, winking at me over Neville's shoulder with chocolate eyes.

"And you're far too blase about this," says Neville snappishly. "What if you were actually somebody, possibly a Dark wizard, sneaking up on me to kill me? What then?"

Blaise, a fake hurt and pouting look stretched across his elegant features, releases Neville from his grasp and walks around to the front of him. "Ah, you don't trust me? I'm not evil anymore, you know..."

"I know you're not evil... when we're outside of the bedroom..." Neville adds in an undertone, his burnt sienna eyes sparkling with mischief.

I smile knowingly at them as they leave the entrance hall in some semblance of a hurry.

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I suppose, in a way, Neville, Blaise and I have become something quite like the Golden Trio that is Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Even though both of them are a year older than me, we still hang out together every chance we get - between classes, after classes, at meals, and every day after all the burdens of the day are done. We are totally inseparable - I don't know how I ever lived without companionship like that, not that I stop to think about it. It's hard just being alone, away from them, at night, with only the sounds of my dormmates chatting happily amongst themselves and giggling at me every chance they get.

Really, I love those two more than I have ever loved anybody else. No, not in the 'I-want-to-shag-you' way, but more like... wow. I can't even being to describe it.

They're my soulmates. That's all I can think of.

Mine.

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As I head up to my dorm, I notice droves of students - my classmates among them - stuggling down the stairs with their trunks. Presumably leaving.

My father doesn't want me home.

Not that I care, but it seems so heartless - after all, I am his daughter. His only child, his only sign that he had any relation to his wife of 13 years.

Maybe he doesn't care.

But still, the thought of these people all leaving seems ridiculous. Hogwarts (possibly) is safer than their homes - the walls themselves hold magic in their stones. Strong magic. So leaving would just be ludicrous. I don't think I would have left even if my father had summoned me home. No, I wouldn't have, because Neville and Blaise are here, and so are Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Harry. With them around, I don't need anybody else.

So I'm staying.

Good.

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We watch the school train depart.

"So long," Harry calls to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. "Stay safe!"

Hermione's cheeks are wet with tears. I don't fully understand why, I mean, we're still here, aren't we? Ginny is standing next to her, hand entertwined with Hermione's, and Ron's hand is on 'Mione's shoulder. They're such good friends.

Harry sits down on the ground and curls his knees into himself, his head tucked into his chest.　Sobs wrack his small frame, and I feel so bad for him. After all he worked for, after all he has done to make sure Hogwarts was safe, all he had sacrificed... and then to watch all his labour go down the drain in the shape of students and their parents. What a way to go down.

A few feet behind him, Draco Malfoy is standing with the most curious look on his face, and I'm intrigued - what is that expression? Hate? Pity? Or... what?

I sidle up to Draco. "Hey."

My appearance must have shocked him, because he jumps a bit and looks shaken. I can see the tears hidden in his bright silver eyes, and I know. Even if he doesn't, I can tell.

"Don't cry for Harry, Draco. Just be there for him."

Malfoy looks stricken, then angrily wipes the tears from his eyes and plasters a smirk on his face. "Pssh. As if I - as if I would cry for Potter. Don't make me laugh."

But the way he says Harry's name lacks venom. Even as he stands in front of me trying to be brave, hands folded across his chest, the cracks in his voice let me know all I need to. And every time we hear a small sob from everybody's favorite hero, a tear slides down his cheek.

"Ah shut UP, Malfoy you insufferable git, just get over there and comfort the poor thing. Nobody else seems to care, and if you don't do it then I will."

He snorts at me, but not unkindly. Annoyedly, if I do say so myself.

"Analyzing bitch," he throws as a last insult, then goes and wraps his arms around the shaking hero.

Gotcha, you blonde-haired prick. You finally let your guard down.

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fin Chapter Two

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A/N - So, the students have finally left Hogwarts. But who is left? Find out next chapter!

Love and Torture Weapons,

--Nyx