Harry can't take his eyes off the wall of the Great Hall.

Normally it would look strange, him just standing there, but almost everyone else in the Great Hall is standing there, staring at the wall.

There's a new name.

It's not in shimmering blue like the rest of Harry's tributes to the dead.

This one is in red.

Sickening, wet, dripping red. 

Dean Thomas

Harry feels like he's going to vomit.

"How did they get into the castle?" Padma screeches, and then hell breaks loose.

Ron starts yelling profanities, Neville sinks to his knees and just stares, Parkinson starts crying, some Ravenclaw boy runs out the doors, people are screaming, people are crying, people are running away.

Harry just stands there in the middle of the chaos, staring at the bright red on the walls.

A hand rests on his shoulders, and the world crashes back down onto him and he turns around to face Draco.

"I can't breathe," he whispers.

Because he can't. It's crashing down, really starting to crash down now, all of the deaths and the pain and the suffering and the fact that he's never going to see Ginny grin sarcastically or Seamus crack a dirty joke or Professor Sprout teach a class or Draco's face light up when Blaise talks to him or Cedric smiling from across the room again, that they're gone forever and he's never felt so alone and this mission was doomed from the start and now he's locked in because they're bonded and this is all pointless because the Death Eaters can get into the castle and he's so fucking alone.

"Yes you can."

He's met with the determined grey eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"You inhale, and you exhale, and you kill the motherfuckers that did this, because if you tell me one more time to use defensive spells I will kill you myself Harry Potter, and you save the fucking world because that's what you do, hero."

Harry is snapped back into the present, into reality, with Draco staring right back at him, and his hand is still on Harry's shoulder and it's not leaving and neither is Draco.

Harry feels a little less alone.

He catches Felix's terrified eyes from across the room, and in an instant, the boy rushes over to them.

"We're not leaving now, are we?" he asks. "The castle is in chaos!"

"That's why we have to leave now," Draco replies, already tugging on Harry's arm. "No one will notice."

Just before Harry can turn toward Draco, Terence Higgs, a seventh-year Slytherin, stands on top of the Slytherin table.

"In the name of Voldemort!" he shouts, holding a bloody knife in the air. Everyone freezes and stares at him.

"You did this?" Padma Patil screams. "You killed Dean?"

"Not just me," Higgs replies, a crazed look in his eyes. "They're coming! They sent me ahead, I'm young, I blend in, but they're coming, make no mistake! Hogwarts is on their list, and you may as well all kill yourselves now!"

Padma screams. Professor McGonagall stands, pointing her wand at Higgs.

Before she can shout anything, Higgs flashes an insane smile and drags the blade of the knife across his throat. A second later, his body crashes down onto the Slytherin table, where the remaining students scream and run away.

Harry is frozen.

"Harry." Draco yanks on his arm. "I'm sorry, but we have to go. They're going to raise security around the castle, I overheard McGonagall talking about it, and then we'll never be able to get out. We have to go now."

Harry blinks, and nods slowly. He takes a few steps toward the doors.

"Draco!"

They turn to see Pansy, staring at them with watery eyes.

"I'll wash the blood away," she whispers. "I'll replace his name with the blue. Dean deserves better than this."

"Thank you," Harry replies softly.

She holds out her hand to reveal two rings, one gold and one silver.

"You haven't worn these since your wedding day. At the very least, take them as good luck charms."

Draco cautiously reaches out and takes his gold ring. Harry grabs his silver one.

Pansy pulls Draco in for a hug, eyes never breaking contact with Harry's. She holds up one pinky behind Draco's back, as if to remind Harry of his promise.

Harry nods, holding his own pinky up. She blinks and smiles sadly at him, and then pulls away from Draco.

"Be safe," she whispers, and rushes off into the crowd.

Harry looks down, slipping the ring onto his right hand. It doesn't feel normal on the left, seeing as him and Draco aren't really married, just pretend for show.

"We have to go," Draco hisses. Harry notices he's done the same with his own ring.

Their group runs out of the Great Hall.