So, I decided to make this a bit longer, adding the thoughts of other secondary characters and their accounts of what happened during the last battle. I figured it would be good to do Draco, because he's everyone's favorite…and we'll see how it goes!

It seems incredible to me that, after all my family has gone through, we are still sitting together, alive. It seems incredible that we emerged from this battle more or less unscathed, while everyone else has lost a friend, a family member, a teacher, a lover. But what is the most incredible to me is that my mother and father, normally so stoic and composed, are weeping as they take me into their arms and hold me so tightly that it's actually difficult to draw breath.

I know that this is all my fault. All this destruction and suffering—I'd thought that I'd wanted it two years ago, when I swore my allegiance to the Dark Lord. But…I took classes with these people! I passed them in the hallways and taunted them behind their backs (and to their faces) and ate with them and lived with them. And now I see their faces on the lifeless bodies of the slain and that is as incredible as my parents' discomposure.

I can't look to my left because that's where the slight body of Colin Creevey has been laid. I used to make his life as difficult as possible—and I can't help but smile as I remember the expression on his rapidly-lengthening face when I hit him from behind with that Stretching Jinx. He was always the eager little runt, such an easy target—but I never would have thought to see him hear, not the target of a harmless jinx, but of a killing curse.

I can't look to my right because the entire Weasley clan has gathered on that side of the Great Hall, circled around the body of…one of them, I'm not sure which one. You can practically taste the grief radiating from the group of red-heads. The mother is holding the daughter tightly, while the girl—Potter's girlfriend, the Quidditch one—pats her on the back, looking pale and lost, but strangely dry-eyed. As for Potter himself, the hero of the hour, there is no sign of him. He disappeared about 45 minutes ago with his two little cronies. Honestly, I can't blame him.

I can't look straight ahead of me because…well, that's where the memories hit me. Right in front of me, someone has been kind enough to lay the bodies of Remus Lupin and his wife, whatshername Tonks. Nymphadora, my mother tells me tightly. My cousin.

Goyle and I watched Potter, Weasley and Granger disappear down the corridor, running towards the sounds of combat. Without so much as giving me a second look, Goyle turned and fled the opposite direction, to the dark recesses of the castle. I felt as though I was rooted to the spot, staring at the blank wall where the door to the Room of Requirement had previously stood. Crabbe was in there. Or rather, his ashes were.

A loud crash echoed down the hallway, waking me out of my reverie. I chased down the corridor after Goyle, turning and running down the staircase to the Great Hall. I didn't get far before I tripped over something and went tumbling down the rest of the staircase, landing at the bottom flat on my back, feeling bruised and very angry. I looked up the stairs as I hauled myself to my feet—and ducked as a flash of green light narrowly missed my ear.

"NO!" screamed a female voice from behind me. A woman with short pink hair hurtled past me and threw herself down onto the stairs, next to what I had tripped over.

It was a body, the body of a man. Not just any man, but Remus Lupin, my former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was very plainly dead.

The woman didn't seem to notice me, or if she did, she didn't care. She was sobbing brokenly, clutching at the man's robes and murmuring, "No, no, no, Remus, no, get up, Remus, wake up, love…"

A cackling laugh that I knew only too well rang out behind me. I turned and saw my aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange slinking up the corridor towards the couple, and towards me. Quickly I stood, and she laughed again as she saw me.

"If it isn't ickle Drakey!" she exclaimed, pointing a finger at me. "This is just like a little family reunion! Drakey, say hello to your cousin, Nymphadora Tonks!"

"Don't call me Nymphadora," the woman on the stairs muttered, making no move to stand or draw her wand to protect herself.

"Looks like your husband had a little accident!" cackled Bellatrix, leveling her wand at her niece. "And it wasn't even the full moon!"

Now the woman stood, drawing herself fully upright. Her hand remained empty, though—why was she refusing to draw her wand?

"You want to join him, do you?" shrieked my aunt, and I saw in her eyes the look of pure insanity that gleamed whenever she was about to kill. "Well…family is all about helping!" A look of defiance crossed my cousin's face, and I saw, for a moment, my mother mirrored there. But then my aunt opened her mouth, and all I could do was scream out, "No!" as a bolt of green light hit Nymphadora Tonks squarely in the chest. She collapsed to the ground, lifeless, next to her husband, and Bellatrix turned to me, shocked at my outburst. But a clamoring from the Great Hall drew her attention and, shooting me one last angry look, she took off the way she came, wand at the ready.

I shake off my parents' arms and rise to my feet, walking the few steps towards the bodies of my former teacher and my cousin. They look peaceful lying there—someone has clasped their hands together, so that they look deeply in love, even in death. I kneel beside Nymphadora, studying her face for that glimpse of my mother that caused my unexpected outburst, but I can't see it. She looks too young, too peaceful, and I close my eyes.

Someone walks up behind me, and I turn and look up at them. It's the Weasley mother, but she isn't looking at me, she's looking at Lupin and Nymphadora. Her face is wet with tears, and more are streaming down her face as she studies the couple.

"She was brave." I don't know what spurs these words, but they slip out of my mouth unbidden. Mrs. Weasley looks down at me, seeing me for the first time. I feel awkward, and elaborate, "She was brave, even when faced with death. She wouldn't take it lying down."

Mrs. Weasley grasps my shoulder, and I feel warmth in her touch. It's the kind of quiet strength that's easy to take comfort in, and draw strength from in turn. I rise to my feet, casting one more glance down on the peaceful face of Nymphadora Tonks, and lead Mrs. Weasley over to my parents.

Review, please!