"NEVILLE!"

My heart caught in my throat as he crumpled to the ground right before my eyes, clutching his stomach.

Throwing a hex after the fleeing Death Eater who had just attacked him, I dived down beside my groaning friend, my knees splashing in the already growing pool of blood from the gaping cut in his abdomen.

"Just hang in there," I ordered as I tore my robes off from my body, hurriedly pressing the material firmly against his wound. "And don't you fucking dare close your eyes."

I looked up and down the dilapidated corridor, taking in the chaos surrounding us; Death Eaters and Order members firing hexes left right and centre. I cast a shield around us, hoping it would hold and praying no one would be so callous as to use the Killing curse upon us in our evidently defenceless state.

My head was spinning crazily - Draco had done this. Draco had let these murderers into our school; into the place that had brought us together; the place where I slept soundly in his arms at night feeling safer than I'd ever felt in my life.

Yet I knew, even then, as I crouched down by Neville's side, holding my increasingly sodding robes against his wound, that it wasn't Draco's fault.

No. It was all that big dick Voldemort's doing.

"So...thirsty," Neville rasped, his voice barely audible, "need w-water."

I took a deep shaky breath, trying to remain calm. "It's just shock, Nev," I assured him, pressing my robes against his wound more firmly, panic engulfing me at the alarming rate the blood was pouring out, "we'll be up in the hospital wing sipping pumpkin juice in no time, okay?"

I looked frantically around, trying to see a way I could get him help; but everyone was too involved in their own fights.

And just then, to my utter relief, I saw Snape striding purposefully towards us with a determined expression on his face.

"Oh thank god, Professor!" I called, taking down the shield charm so he could reach us. "Neville's hurt bad, we need hel-"

But my words stuck in my throat as soon as I realised he had no intention of stopping and coming to our aid, and not only that, a terrified looking Draco was running up close behind him.

What the fuck was going on?

Draco's eyes widened even more fearfully when he saw me crouched on the floor and he skidded at once to halt.

"B-Blaire?" he choked, his face going green in horror as he took in my blood soaked appearance. "No... fuck no... oh god, please, no...."

"It's not mine, it's Neville's," I said immediately, "but he needs help, please!"

To my relief, Draco didn't hesitate to drop down to his knees beside me, his fingers fumbling at the blood soaked material covering Neville's wound. "I- I think I might know a spell-"

"What in blazes do you think you're doing, boy?!" Snape roared, reaching down to drag Draco back up to his feet by the scruff of his neck. "Now is not the time to decide to be a hero! We need to get out - NOW!"

"We need to help Neville!" I cried desperately, reaching my hand up to try and grab Draco's arm. "Please!"

But it was no use, Snape, managed to wrestle a protesting Draco out of my reach and down the corridor, vanishing from view.

I actually felt like I was going to cry when I looked back down to Neville and saw he was rapidly losing consciousness. "Stay with me, Nev," I implored, squeezing his hand in mine to try and keep him awake.

"SOMEBODY HELP US!" I bellowed, not knowing what else there was to do.

And that was when Harry Potter came skidding around the corner.

"Oh thank fuck," I sighed with relief, never before in my life being pleased to see him, "Harry, quick; Neville needs help-"

"COME BACK HERE YOU MURDERING BASTARD!"

I blinked as Harry roared on past like a madman; not even once glancing down in our direction.

Twat.

******

"Well, all's well that ends well," Ron said jovially as he gave Neville a hearty pat on the shoulder.

"Uh- isn't Dumbledore dead?" I pointed out, raising my eyebrow.

"Oh... yeah... I forget that part." Ron chortled, giving a nonchalant shrug. "He's like one of those really old guys that when someone tells you they just died, you're thinking 'didn't they already die ages ago?' You know, like the Queen Mother."

"She's still alive, though."

"Exactly."

"Probably best not to say that sort of stuff in front of a certain someone though, mate," Neville quietly advised, beckoning over to the closed curtain on the other side of the ward where Harry was being treated for shock.

After Harry had gone off after Snape and Draco (unsuccessfully, I might add), leaving me to watch Neville slowly die of blood loss, help had finally arrived in the shape of Tonks, who thankfully was able to cast a healing spell on the spot.

Madam Pomfrey assured me he'd make a full recovery, but I refused to leave him; keeping a vigilant station by his bedside whilst I made sure with my own eyes that he was going to be alright.

It meant that I got a front row seat for all the proceeding drama that unfolded in the hospital wing.

I watched as Ron's older brother got brought in with a werewolf bite, and had a good listen in to their family domestic involving the French chick who had competed in the Triwizard Tournament. Seems that the mother and Ginny didn't much approve of her, but they were soon won around when it transpired that Fleur wasn't adverse to a bit of werewolf loving after all.

This encouraged Tonks to publicly admit that she also had a werewolf kink, much to Lupin's delight.

I also managed to catch the gossip on what had actually happened; turns out all this time Draco was plotting the murder of our headteacher, only he got cold feet at the eleventh hour. So, Snape thoughtfully stepped in instead, before fleeing with the rest of the Death Eaters; taking Draco with him.

I could have saved everyone a shit load of time by telling them that Draco was no killer from the start.

But then I guess Voldemort had probably known that too.

My insides turned icy cold when I wondered with a sick fear what fate Draco had lying in wait for him now.

"I'm sure he'll be okay," Neville murmured softly, obviously reading my thoughts, as he reached over to take my hand in his.

I managed to force a small, sad smile, not being able to speak for the huge lump in my throat. I was so grateful for Neville, for his unwavering support and understanding; despite the fact that Draco's mission was the reason he'd almost died in the first place.

Eventually, after Neville's insistence, I went back down to the dungeon to get some sleep; back to Draco's room.

As I stepped inside, despite my exhaustion, I noticed two things.

One, the room was bare of his personal artefacts. And I realised he must have packed his stuff away beforehand, knowing exactly he was not going to be around after tonight.

And the second thing I noticed was the piece of parchment left on top of the chest of drawers; a note of just two words written in a very familiar scrawl.

I'm sorry.

But it wasn't his apology that caused the cold steely numbness inside of me to suddenly break, allowing the tears to finally fall from my eyes.

It was what had been left placed carefully on top of it, acting almost like a mini paperweight.

Draco's monopoly piece. The Scottie dog.

******