And I am feeling so small
It was over my head
I know nothing at all
And I will stumble and fall
I'm still learning to love
Just starting to crawl

Hermione stood with the crowd, only faintly aware that Ginny was beside her. Dumbledore was dead, Hagrid's hut burned to the ground, Bill and countless others injured. And Draco had been involved. All that time spent with him, all those late night talks on Prefect patrols. He was right - she didn't know him. As much as she thought she had understood, she had been wrong. He had Imperiused Madame Rosmerta, almost killed Karie Bell and Ron. And all in an attempt to assassinate Professor Dumbledore. The one man who was unwaveringly on his side despite what he had already known about him. The greatest ally she had had in the fight to clear that stupid, pointy faced idiot's name. How had things gone so wrong? She took a shuddering breath. Was this what caring about someone was supposed to get her? She had half a mind to burn every single romance novel she owned, were she capable of bringing herself to defile books in such a way. They'd all lied to her, with their dashing bad boys and their patient heroines. Sold her tales of how even the worst of the worst could be conquered by love. Her eyes widened. Love. Well, wasn't that just fantastic? Of all the people she could possibly have let herself fall for, it was that blond haired ferret. The realisation washed over her and left a chill in it's wake. Sure, she'd noticed that she wasn't as receptive to Ron's advances as she had been before, but she had chalked it up to being overwhelmed. Staying on top of her grades, making sure Harry and Ron stayed on top of their grades, training with DA. She was allowed to slack off a bit in the area of romance. However, standing there and thinking of Malfoy, she realised with a painful clarity that she'd never felt this sort of pain over Ron before. Ever since the astronomy tower, it had felt as though a part of her was missing. They had never been social in public, but those secret meetings were something she had started to look forward to. Slipping out of the Gryffindor common room to spend the dark hours of the morning together, holed up in the Room of Requirement with food stolen from the kitchens, or sometimes simply sleeping, wrapped in each other's arms. As everyone around her began raising their wands in salute, she stared at the body of Albus Dumbledore and joined them. Mourning her lost professor, his would be assassin, and her newly broken heart.

Draco stood outside Malfoy Manor with Snape, trying to gather enough courage to go inside. It was done, his task complete. Although he technically hadn't been the one to do it.
"Coward." He scowled, but it was directed moreso at himself that anyone else. Albus Dumbledore was dead. The only other person aside from her who had had any faith in him. Hell, the man had still been trying to help him when he was standing there gathering the bollocks to kill him! He could admit to himself, now that the man was dead, that his previous murder attempts had been shoddy at best. Even though his parents life had hung in the balance, he had dragged his feet. A small part of him hoping that maybe the bushy haired swot would make good on her repeated proclamations and actually figure out a way to get them all out of this mess. In the end though, he had been right. No matter how smart she was, even she couldn't save him. His feelings threatened to swallow him, to cover him in a darkness so deep that he doubted he would ever be able to come out of it again. He had precious few things to bouy him, the main ones being memories. His family, before all of this shite surrounded them, memories of her, and now a new small spark of light inside him. Although he'd helped the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, he'd done what he could for her. Using the Weasley twin's Peruvian Instant Darkness under the guise of helping everyone slip in unnoticed, he had protected the Weasel and the Weaslette. He'd known they were skulking in the hall outside of the Room and he hoped that, if he ever saw her again, he could tell her. Maybe one day it would be enough.

"I suggest you rid yourself of such notions." His godfather stared down at him. Snape's face was carefully blank but Draco could see sympathy in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he set his shoulder and pulled on the last vestiges of his strength before moving forward, feeling his family wards ripple over him. Quietly, in the far reaches of his mind, he hoped Potter would win.