I walked along the corridors.

The sound of my footsteps echoed off the bloody stone floor. Grief had crept around the school, gripping pupils; siblings; parents; professors – everyone, like a plague. I didn't know where I was going. I stopped suddenly as I passed the room. No harm with checking... I opened the chipped, blood-stained, formerly beautiful, mahogany doors that led to the room that held the Goblet of Fire. I searched through the burned pieces of paper that littered the floor. Nope. My name wasn't on any. I sighed.

Maybe I could explain that it wasn't me that did it. That a gust of wind had taken the paper and dropped it in the blue flames. No, I wouldn't waste my breath trying. I, Neville Longbottom, was in the running for the Wizard Games.

***

I walked into the infirmary. “Can I help?” Madam Pomfrey glanced up from tending to a wound on a young enough kid. “Move the body.” She tried to keep her voice emotionless as she indicated to a dead body covered by a crisp, clean, white, linen sheet but her voice broke at the end and she grabbed a tissue to dab her eyes before she had a chance to start to cry.

I nodded and winced as the body felt so limb and lifeless in my arms when I picked the body up. I didn't want to look at whoever it was. I didn't want to know. It would just be too painful to see another pair of closed eyes and waxy skin. It was light. Small. A shuddering sob racked through my lanky body but no tears came.

For that, I was grateful.

But to think that a child was gone because of him. Millions gone because of Voldemort. (I was one of the view that was brave enough enough now to say his name.)

Well, it's enough to make a grown man cry.

***

I leaned against the wall of the fifth floor corridor, my eyes closed – trying to rid the image of the small, cute, blond little girl. When I was placing the body under the sheet down in the mass grave, the sheet had fallen off and reviled the face of a twelve year-old girl. He vaguely recalled saving her from Amycus Carrow.

Suddenly, the eerie silence was broken as Peeves came 'round the corner. I cursed. I broke into a sprint, not wanting to hear his crap right now. “UGGGHHHH! Nev-Nev Looooongg Buttum. His name insults him! Hehe! Where's you running to Looooongg Buttum? Well, Peevey is gonna get ye!” And Peeves started to chuck bottles of blue and red ink at me.

I turned a hard left and threw open the brook closet and shut the door quickly. I moved back and stood still, barely breathing. “Nev-Nev?” Peeve teased as he passed. I remained quiet till I was sure he was gone. Then I let out a long, deep breath. I whipped out my wand and whispered, “Lumos,” I glanced around and jumped into the air at the sight of Hannah Abbot, looking shocked, pressed up against the wall. Her eyes were red and blotchy and tear tracks ran down her cheeks. “Merlin Hannah, I'm so sorry.” She moved away from the wall, clearly still shocked but relaxing a bit. “That's okay.” “Hannah...” I asked tentatively. “Where you crying?” “What?! No!” But she turned around quickly to wipe her eyes.

I found myself just standing there awkwardly,wanting to move towards her. Her tears pierced me and I wanted to know why she was crying. What was wrong with her? When she turned around she glanced at me and whispered in a hoarse voice, “I know y-you're with L-Luna, but I can't hold it in any longer a-and I swear it won't happen again.” I could feel myself getting nervous, my stomach twisting in knots.

She pulled my wand out of my loose grip and I noticed how silky her scarlet hair was. How her lips were no longer swollen. How her noise was back in it's place. And then she distinguished the light. Darkness. After a couple of seconds, I could feel her warm breath on my face. And her lips touched mine. Electricity ran down my body as her kiss deepened. Knowing it was wrong, but feeling like it was right, I kissed her back. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I placed my hands on her hips.

Suddenly, the door opened and there stood...