Padma could just about see three shadows at the base of the old oak tree. The fading light cast everything into semi-darkness, giving an eerie feeling to the grounds, where huge trees lurked like cats waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse.

As she came closer to the tree, the figures took on an ominous familiarity. Bellatrix Lestrange eyed her contemptuously from her position at the Dark Lord's side, while Lucius Malfoy did not even deign to glance at her. Padma could not find the strength of will to keep her eyes on the Dark Lord as she stood before them. Instead, she chose to gaze at the sodden leaves that littered the ground.

"Please look at the Dark Lord when he is addressing you," Bellatrix hissed icily. Her voice was like one who finds pleasure in torturing kittens.

With an effort, Padma raised her head. Her eyes flickered to the Dark Lord's, but keeping her them fixed on his blood red eyes that seemed to look into her soul and laugh at what he found was just too much. Instead, she gazed at his pale lips. They curved up in a smile, enjoying her discomfort.

"Someone has deeply insulted the Dark Lord, and he has decided that they need to be punished," said Lucius, so coldly that Padma could almost hear the frost crackling on his words. "You are to go to their house tonight and kill them. Do not worry. We have ensured that no one will get in your way, but if they should, I would like to think you could take care of them. Now, wouldn't you like to know who you will be visiting?"

Padma felt as though she had been punched in the stomach. Kill? Already? I can't! she thought desperately. I just can't!

Of course you can, whispered her logical side. You don't even know who the victim is yet! It could be your worst enemy; doesn't revenge sound attractive?

She suddenly realised that they were all looking at her expectantly. She nodded as if in slow motion, waiting for this name that would change her life.

"You will be paying a visit to Stephen Cornfoot. I believe you are familiar with his home, so you should not have a problem getting there."

A gasp escaped her frozen lips. Stephen? No; no, it can't be Stephen!

"Is this a problem?" inquired Bellatrix, her voice dripping with fake concern.

"Of — of course not," Padma stuttered. "I'll just go and — I'll go."

She turned and hurried off across the grounds towards the house, ignoring the damp grass that slowly soaked the edges of her robes. She leaned against the door, her mind in a swirling mess.

Oh, God, why Stephen? Tears welled up in her eyes. Why do I have to choose? Please, please, let something happen! Anything, just don't make me choose!

Stephen Cornfoot; bright, cheerful and fun. Padma had never really had a 'best friend', but of all those non-best friends he had been the closest. It was only in second year that they really began to hang out together, and he was part of the reason that Padma saw her school years up to fifth year as the happiest in her life. Over the few months of that year, her liking of him had built to something more; in fact, Padma had once dreamed of spending her life with him. It was a foolish whim, and quickly dismissed, but she could not deny the sweetness of the thought. And yet the last time she had spoken with him had left a dark poison that affected her for years afterwards.

"Hey, Padma," called Stephen in his warm voice. Padma looked up from her Transfiguration essay, already a foot longer than necessary.

"Hi Stephen." She moved some scrolls over to make space for him in the adjacent chair. He sat down, his hands twisting and entwining themselves in his lap. Padma looked at him enquiringly, but he refused to meet her gaze. Shrugging, she went back to her essay.

"Conjurus is spelt with a j, not a g," Stephen told her as he peered over her shoulder. Sighing in irritation, Padma corrected her mistake. She glared at him.

"What—"

"I'm leaving." Stephen's words jumbled and tangled in his haste to spit them out.

Padma stared at him, puzzlement evident in her dark eyes. "You're leaving the common room?"

"No!" Stephen leapt to his feet and began pacing around the empty room. "I'm leaving Hogwarts."

Padma felt her heart turn to ice. "You — you're not serious?" she whispered.

"I am," he replied grimly. "You know my father died last month." Padma nodded silently. Stephen had become very quiet and depressed, despite the fact that his father was known for his drinking and occasional violence.

"My mother… she's not happy. She wants me home." He turned to face the hearth, firelight casting strange, flickering shadows over his face.

"Your mother? But I thought you didn't get along with your mother? You always said—"

"I know, I know. But she's on her own now. She doesn't have anyone."

"She never wanted you while he was alive," Padma said quietly, feeling the floodwaters of rage beginning to rise. He rounded on her suddenly.

"Shut up, okay! So what? She's not a happy person — she was never able to stand up to Dad. It's not her fault that he — he—" Stephen stopped, unable to continue and glared at her, brown eyes flashing.

Padma looked up at him coldly. "She never stopped him when he went for you, did she?" Her voice was cool, offhand. "And I don't see how pulling you out of school shows she loves you." Inside her a tiny voice screamed, No, don't do this. Please. Padma could feel the venom in her carefully impassive voice slowly poisoning their relationship.

Stephen strode towards her, his hands clenched into fists. "Don't you dare talk about my mother like that. And you're a fine one to lecture me about family — spoken to Parvati lately?" She could feel his hot breath on her trembling face. She said nothing.

He took a few steps back. "I just came to say goodbye. I'm leaving tomorrow morning." He marched towards the boy's dormitory. At the doorway he turned, golden-blonde hair slipping in front of his eyes.

"And since this is probably the last time we'll ever talk, you should get over that thing with Parvati. I've spoken to her, and she's a nice girl. More than nice. You take holding a grudge to a whole new level."

Padma snapped. Anger spilled out in waves, eroding logic and reason. She glared at him, loathing written in savage handwriting across her face. "I hate you," she spat viciously.

"Oh, great. Well, thanks for proving my point and making my last day at Hogwarts memorable!" he yelled, slamming the door so hard several people ran out to see who had dropped a packet of Exploding Snap cards.

Padma had wept then, for the last time in years.