When someone dies you always seem to think of a million things that you should of said, should of done, or should of not said or done. This was the case with Pansy Parkinson.
As her best friend in the whole wide world closed his eyes never to open them again while laying in her arms, a single tear ran down her cheek as her mind begin to reel.
He would never know that she loved him as more than a friend, always had but had just been to much of a Hufflepuff to tell him so. She would of apologized for not taking moving a little faster and saving him from that curse. A Gryffindor she was not, but she was in love.
As the rain feel and washed away her salty tears she held on to Blaise Zabini's limp body and cried thinking of all the things left unsaid.