My legs give out.

I collapse to the ground in a heap, my hands just barely breaking my fall as my entire body collides with the stone floor.

I hear Draco saying my name, but it's as though we're underwater, deep, blurry, in slow motion, nothing processing the right way.

Cyril Burns is dead.

My friend. One of my only bloody friends, is dead.

Why are all my friends dead?

"Meiqi, Meiqi, Meiqi!" Draco's voice rings in my ears, as I feel his hands pressing against my back, desperately shaking me, but I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't think. "Fuck, Meiqi, what's wrong? Is it your heart?"

I shake my head back and forth, finally able to regain control of my body.

He lets out a sigh of relief, but his hands don't leave my back, something I find oddly calming, despite the situation. For whatever reason, the touch of Draco Malfoy is somewhat soothing to the emotional turmoil I find myself drowning in.

"Talk to me." He presses, tone thick with urgency. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Cyril…" Is all I say, is all I can get out without crying like a pathetic baby.

"Cyril?" He frowns. "Who the hell is Cyril?"

"Cyril Burns." I finally manage to wheeze, after several moments of silence. "He's a Hufflepuff, in our year. You don't know him?"

Draco shakes his head, the frown on his face intensifying. "I know the names of everyone in our year, Meiqi. There's no one named Cyril Burns."

I burst into tears.

"Fuck, Meiqi, fuck, don't cry. What did I do? Did I do something?"

For some reason, despite my emotional state, the idea of Draco worrying he'd done something to upset me sends a jolt through my body. He cares about me - something I'm certainly not used to, cares enough to kneel on the dirty floor with me while I sob like a child.

I can't hold it in any longer. If I do, I might physically explode.

Sniffling, I wipe away my tears with the palm of my hand. "Draco, if I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?"

He nods slowly.

I take a deep breath, knowing full well that if I say what I'm about to, he might go running for the hills, never to be seen again. He'll think me mad, and I'll lose yet another friend.

But I can't take it anymore. I can't take keeping quiet about my madness. It'll only make it worse.

So, I speak, my trembling voice just above a whisper. "I see dead people."

"Dead people?" Draco blinks. "Like, in graves? In coffins?"

I shake my head, not bothering to wipe away the tears that have returned in full force. "Walking around like regular people, doing normal tasks. They only see what they want to see. They don't know they're dead."

For a long moment, neither of us say anything, simply sitting on the cold stone ground, me crying while Draco holds onto my back, as though he relies on it.

Eventually, he breaks the silence, though he doesn't say something cruel, like I expect him to. Instead, he simply says, "Well, that explains why you talk to yourself all the time. You're talking to dead people, right?"

I nod slowly, gulping away another sob that threatens to break through my throat. "Cedric Diggory, he won't leave me alone. I keep telling him to go away, and he won't. He won't believe me when I tell him he's dead. And my friend, I thought Cyril was my friend, but he's dead. Oh Merlin, he's actually dead…I'm going mad, Draco."

"We're all a little mad, wouldn't you say?" He shrugs as he pushes himself up onto his feet, before reaching back down and offering me a hand.

I accept it, allowing him to pull me up. "Sorry." I sniffle as I regain my balance. "I didn't mean to like…scare you."

"You could never scare me, Meiqi." His statement is a simple one, though riddled with meaning at the same time, something I can't quite dissect. "You intrigue me. And I don't think you're mad. I've heard of things like these before. People, who can see the Other Side."

"There are…people, like me? More of them?"

He nods. "I've never met one, of course. But I've read books about them. They're really rare, but they exist."

"Why haven't I heard of them before?"

"Like I said - they're rare. Most consider them a myth, but my father insists they're real. Says they had one in…never mind." He shakes his head, and while I'm confused, I decide not to push him on whatever he was about to say. "Just, you're not alone, yeah? I'll help you figure this out, if you'd like me to. Do some reading on it."

I could kiss him, I'm so relieved.

"Thank you." I breathe. "I appreciate it. Really. Thank you."

A smile tugs at Draco's lips, not a smirk, but an actual smile, unlike anything I've ever seen before on him. But he doesn't say anything, not a word, instead turning back to the trophies, scrubbing down the one with Cyril's name on it.

I allow my thoughts to drift as I observe him, to Cyril, to who I'd considered my best friend here. How had I not noticed he was dead? We'd gone to Hogsmeade together, for Merlin's sake! Had I just looked like a fool the entire time, talking to myself?

But…no.

Abe, the bartender, had seen him. Had talked to him.

Maybe Cyril wasn't dead after all - maybe it was the trophy of another boy named Cyril Burns. Maybe it was his father, or grandfather.

But Draco had just said that there was no one named Cyril in our year.

That left one other option: Abe can also see dead people.

I decide, in that moment, that I need to speak to him, and it can't wait one more second.

"Draco," I turn to him suddenly.

"Yes?"

"What would you say to ditching this detention, and going to Hogsmeade?"

His brow furrows together. "You want to ditch detention?"

"You said it yourself, that we have four hours, before Professor McGonagall comes back. Well, now about three and a half hours, but close enough. I reckon that's enough time to slip into Hogsmeade, if we can find a way, and return. If not, we just get another detention for being caught."

"Now you're talking." His grey eyes slide over to mine, a smirk forming on his lips. "Though, if I may ask, why do you want to go to Hogsmeade all of a sudden?"

"I'll explain on the way. Come on, let's go." Setting down the rag I was using to scrub the trophies I motion for him to follow me, and he does exactly that. With Draco Malfoy on my heels, we make our way through the mostly empty halls, sneaking by Professors and Prefects that could give us even more detentions, and instead find the an exit to Hogwarts. The walk to Hogsmeade will take about an hour, but I don't mind, and I don't think Draco does, either. Not with the way he's grinning like a bloody madman, that is.