The mere stench of smoke, blood, and rotting flesh in the air was enough to make Draco want to vomit. He could only guess what lay in the valley beyond the hill. Draco tried to keep from making another step, but his legs just kept moving. He reached the top of the hill with dread, and even from afar the image of the valley would forever be seared into his mind.

Innocent students, members of the Order of the Phoenix, and Death Eaters alike littered the blood-splattered ground. Draco spotted some of his old classmates—Seamus, Neville, Luna, Lavender, Padma and Parvati. Even his Slytherin friends had not been spared. Pansy, Blaise, Greg, Vincent—all of them were dead.

Draco raised his eyes to the center of the valley. Three poles were pushed straight into the ground, with—what were those?—on the tops. He stepped forward towards the poles and gagged, realizing what was placed on top of the poles.

It’s too late, Draco. You couldn’t save them.

"You should be dead," Draco said through clenched teeth. His head hung downwards.

I had big dreams for you. You were my heir.

Draco screamed. "Get the away from me!"

You will help me, Draco.

Pain erupted on his lower back. It felt as if someone pressed a torch into his skin, then stabbed it multiple times. Draco screamed.

And then Draco woke, covered in sweat and thoroughly frightened. His arms and legs spasmed once, then froze. Draco stretched his arm out to the left, but before his fingertips could reach his wand the curtains hanging from the bed frame swung open. Moonlight flooded his vision.

There stood Hermione, in her white nightie and a purple cloak, holding her wand in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Oh, Draco," she breathed, and set the wand and glass down on his side table to embrace him. Her arms s around his waist; he rested his chin in the crook of her shoulder. "Granger," he replied.

"I heard screaming," said Hermione, pulling away.

Draco sighed. "Of course." He accepted the glass of water offered to him, and swallowed the water greedily. His parched throat was replenished with moisture.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked. Visions of her head on that spike flooded Draco’s vision. He tensed, so she prodded no further and instead sat on the bed, rubbing his back.

They must have fallen asleep, because sunlight had come trickling into the room. Draco woke to the sound of quiet giggling that sounded suspiciously like Luna.