You Promised Me...

She walked down the dry and barren slopes of the Hogwarts grounds towards the Quidditch pitch, pulling her cloak tightly around her to ward off the chill wind. She paused as she reached the lakeside, her memories taking her back to a day when everything had been calm. Everything that was happening now had just been a nightmare then. The day had been warm, sunny, cheerful. They had been lounging around all day; exams had just ended and everybody was celebrating. She had sat with him, in this exact spot on that day and he had held her tightly in his arms; whispering in her ear that he would never let her go, never leave her.

But he had. Just three months after that blissful day, he had left. Of course, he wasn't the only one who had gone. Most of the students fifth year and up had gone. She was the only fifth year who hadn't left. He had made her promise not to go. Not to chase after him. He had begged her. And she had promised she wouldn't. She hadn't either. It had been six months, and she still hadn't gone after him, because, after all, she could never break a promise she had given to him. The staff had gone, too. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, all of them. The Ministry, having finally seen that Voldemort really was back, had sent in replacement teachers; those not fully equipped to fight in battle, but able to teach a bit of magic to the younger students.

And life had gone on at Hogwarts. Classes were a tad bit easier, and the halls seemed horribly empty. They still had Quidditch matches, too, although the teams were highly unskilled. And speaking of Quidditch, she was going to be late for the match if she didn't hurry up. She hadn't missed a game since he had left. Actually, she had never missed a game since he had become Seeker. She shook her head and wrapped her cloak even tighter around her. It had gotten colder and colder since the day of Voldemort's attack. It was the end of March, and it was now colder than it was in the middle of January.

She walked to the edge of the pitch instead of going up into the stands like everybody else. The teachers had allowed this. They had allowed her to do a lot of things she normally wouldn't have been able to get away with. Everyone had started treating her differently since he had left; like she was some sort of porcelain doll, who, if not handled with the utmost care, would shatter into a thousand pieces.

The two teams, Slytherin and Gryffindor, were already facing each other on the pitch. The captains shook each other's hands fiercely, both with identical looks of determination on their faces. The Seekers on both teams were poised and ready to take off. They were glaring at each other, hatred shining in their eyes. She remembered how he had looked the same way at the opposing Seeker before every match.

A short, balding man ran out onto the field, panting. He was the replacement for Madam Hooch. She hadn't bothered to remember his name. Madam Hooch would be back soon. She was sure of that. She hadn't really bothered to remember any of the replacement teachers' names. Somehow, learning them seemed to diminish any hope she had of the original teachers coming back safely. It was stupid, she knew that, but she still refused to remember them. She watched as the professor told both of the captains to play fairly and raised the whistle to his lips.

A dark figure on the other side of the pitch drew her attention away from the teams and she watched as Argus Filch limped out onto the pitch. He walked to the professor and whispered to him. The professor's eyes quickly darted towards her, and in the brief moment that their eyes locked, she felt a chill run up her spine. It's probably just your imagination, she told herself. Nothing's wrong. They would have told you first if something was wrong. She watched as a look of complete joy spread across the professor's face. His eyes held something different, though. Sadness. Grief. Filch turned around sharply and limped out of the stadium, which had grown eerily quiet when he had made his appearance. Everybody seemed to know something huge had happened. Both teams on the pitch had stopped glaring at each other, and were now looking at the professor with bewildered expressions on their faces. He pointed his wand to his throat, said a spell, and a second later his voice was echoing off the stadium walls.

"May I have your attention please?" his voice boomed out. "I have just received some very joyous news, shadowed by some very grievous news. First, the joyous news is," and here he paused for dramatic effect, "Voldemort has been defeated! The Light Side has won!"

Many cheers broke out and her heart skipped a beat. This meant he was coming home, right? But why hadn't he written to her yet? She turned her attention back to the professor.

"The grievous news is many of our own have been lost. I have here," and he held up a piece of parchment she hadn't seen Filch give him, "a list of locals lost. First, the great Harry Potter has been lost to us. He died at the same moment he killed Voldemort."

Sobs broke out here and there, from the few fourth years and under who had actually known Harry. Not Harry, she thought. Please no. He couldn't have. He wouldn't have. He promised everyone he would be back. He... silent tears streamed down her face.

"Secondly, the esteemed Albus Dumbledore was lost to us. He died protecting Harry."

The rest of the school broke out into sobs, a few students wailing and falling to their knees. Professor Dumbledore? But, he was invincible, wasn't he?

"Professor Severus Snape, Professor Sprout, Colin Creevey, Hannah Abbot, Dean Thomas, Blaise Zabini, Katie Bell, Cho Chang, Winky the House-elf, Terry Boot, Eloise Midgen, Percy Weasley..."

Percy? No! Not Percy! He wasn't even in the war! He had proclaimed himself neutral. He didn't want to fight. How? Why? No. Mum is probably going to bits. I have to go home to her. As she was about to turn around and run back to the castle, the professor looked up at her once again. A silence had come over the whole stadium. She was painfully aware of everybody watching her. A cold fear gripped at her heart. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. She knew it the moment the professor's eyes had first met hers.

"And..."

No! She wouldn't listen to him. She clapped her gloved hands over her ears and turned sharply. She ran, and she ran, but he had said it. He had said the name that shattered her heart. The name rang in her ears; echoed in her mind. She dropped to her knees beside the lake; the very spot she had stopped earlier. The blackness was overpowering her. It was swimming in front of her eyes. He had promised! He said he would come back! He said he would never leave her!

"You promised me!" she yelled into the empty space.

Tears were flowing down her cheeks unchecked. She didn't care. She didn't care about anything anymore. She would never care about anything again. Her world would never be complete. She would never be whole. She curled up into a small ball, rocking back and forth. The darkness behind her eyes was growing stronger. She hadn't even been aware she had closed them. It was pulling her deeper and deeper in. The rocking ceased and the last thing she heard before she plunged into complete oblivion was her own soft voice whispering into nothingness...

"I love you, Draco Malfoy..."