Draco's POV:

September first came before we were ready. One day Lizzie and I were silently sitting in the rose garden, admiring the efflorescent blooms that spilled from the greenery, the next we were packing our trunks and making our way to hustle of Platform 9 ¾.

"Stay strong, Squirt," Grayson said, wrapping his arms around Lizzie. "Don't do anything stupid. Don't stick out. Follow the rules, no matter what they are. I can't lose you too."

"You're not going to lose me, Gray," she replied, hugging him back, obviously trying to ignore the 'too'.

He pulled back and looked to me with intense forest-green eyes; they were so very different from Lizzie's steely-colored ones. "Promise me you'll keep her safe," he spoke with a dire voice and seemed to be begging me rather than asking me to keep Liz safe. I was shaken by the desperateness in his voice, but somehow found the ability to answer him.

"I promise," I said in a hushed tone, just loud enough that he could hear me over the noise on the platform. "Nothing will happen to her." And I knew this was the truth, because, no matter the personal cost, I was going to make sure Lizzie got home alright.

"Thank you," he whispered before hugging Lizzie once more. "Write me as often as you can."

"I will." Lizzie pulled back with a start when the train whistle sounded. She looked over her shoulder to see all of the students giving their families one last hug before loading the train. "Guess it's time to go."

"I guess so," I spoke, glancing around us. Teary parents pushed their way through the crowd so they could wave their children off. I wondered if this was the last time some of them would see each other.

"Be careful, Liz. You too, Malfoy." His green eyes turned to me once more, and he spoke with a curt nod, different from the way he spoke to Lizzie.

"Call me Draco," I articulated carefully and kindly, the way my mother had taught me to.

"Alright. Be careful, Draco." He gave me the smallest of smiles.

"Bye, Gray." Lizzie kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger for a moment, and slipped her fingers through mine.

"Bye," he replied.

Almost immediately as we stepped onto the train, I noticed how little students had returned to Hogwarts this year. A solid quarter of the school hadn't returned, and it was obvious, even though attendance this year had been deemed mandatory by the Ministry for those who could prove their blood heritage.

"Where is everyone?" Lizzie asked beside me, noticing the difference in the population of the train.

"Parents are scared to let their students come back now that Dumbledore is-"

"Yeah," she muttered, cutting me off and leading me back to the Slytherin compartment. "I am too."

Despite the fact that a fourth of the school seemed to have disappeared, the Slytherin house seemed fuller than ever. They were all talking animatedly with those around them about Merlin knows what.

With encouragement from Pansy, we squeezed into a table with Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Astoria Greengrass, and, of course, Pansy.

Pansy, who had gotten a haircut which had made her already blunt bob even more blunt, spoke to us excitedly. "Hi, guys! How was your holiday?" Her lips were covered with a deep scarlet lipstick that stood out against her black dress.

"It was alright," I replied politely. "How was yours?"

"It was amazing! Mother took me on a trip to France again! We went all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower and watched the sunset this time. It was absolutely gorgeous. I even put a lock on the Love Lock Bridge like the muggles like to do for me and Theo." She smiled and leaned over to kiss Nott on the cheek, leaving a red smear. He blushed and reached up to wipe it off.

"I'm going to vomit," Zabini gagged.

"Did you go to the Louvre?" Greengrass asked quietly. Her long, black hair was pulled half back, the rest cascading down her shoulders.

"Oh, no," Pansy scoffed. "There's no way I would go there. It's so boring." I watched Zabini roll his eyes and Greengrass' narrow ever so slightly.

"Pansy Parkinson, everyone," Zabini drawled, also rolling his brown eyes. "She who has absolutely no taste."

"I do to have taste!" She squealed, furrowing her dark eyebrows tightly together in outrage.

"You wouldn't go to the Louvre, quite possibly the most famous art gallery in the world, because it might be boring." He folded his arms and looked at her with an accusatory stare. "Not even to see the Mona Lisa."

"The Mona Lisa is there?!" she exclaimed looking around at each of us in surprise to confirm the information. "Why didn't someone tell me! I would've gone then!"

"Oh, come on," Zabini groaned, once again rolling his eyes, "everyone knows the Mona Lisa is in the Louvre."

"Really?" Pansy squeaked, cringing.

"Yeah, pretty much," Nott smiled guiltily, pulling on a raven-colored curl by his ear.

"All of you knew this?" she asked with melancholy eyes.

"Yep," Zabini smirked, happy that he had proven himself correct.

"Mm-hm," Nott hummed.

"Yes," Greengrass affirmed, quietly.

When Liz and I didn't say anything to either confirm or deny what we knew of the Mona Lisa, Pansy batted her eyes in our direction, practically begging us to help her out. "Did you two know about it?"

"Everyone does, Pansy," I said nonchalantly.

"Yeah," Lizzie spoke quietly, which caused to Pansy squeal in indignation and fold her arms, pouting.

"It's alright, Pans," Nott said with a small smile as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Hmph." The girl turned her head to look out the window.

I wanted to strangle her for being able to be so light, giving what was going on. Lizzie's mum had died, Voldemort was trying to take over the world, and Pansy was pouting because she hadn't known that the Mona Lisa was in the Louvre.

-----

Hogwarts had changed. It wasn't something you could see. It was a feeling. Something in the air.

Tension was dripping from the air like the dense rain that had begun to dribble from the sky, which was dark grey with the storm clouds, and seemed ominous and eerie. The chill of the air seeped deep into my bones, feeling as if it was close touching my soul. I shivered.

From my perspective on the platform, several Hogsmeade shops that had once been covered in bright, cheerful shop displays, had been boarded up and closed, including the ever-so-popular Zonko's, and there was no one walking through it's barren streets, though it was usually packed when the students first arrived for the year.

It was like someone had sucked all of the heart out of it all.

"Draco?" Lizzie questioned my pause and pulled my gaze from the empty streets of Hogsmeade to her worried face. Two small lines had appeared between her furrowed eyebrows. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I assured her, taking her hand and managing a small smile. "Let's get to the carriages. We wouldn't want to miss the feast."

"No," she agreed quietly, "wouldn't want that." Yet when the carriages came into view, both Lizzie and I stopped in our tracks.

"Are you...?" Her question trailed off.

"Yeah," I breathed. In front of the carriages were large, black, skeletal horses. "Those must be thestrals."

"Thestrals..."

"You can only see them if you've seen death," I explained, not taking my eyes off of the horses. "And after Dumbledore..." Not wanting to get into the subject of Dumbledore's death, I stopped my sentence there.

We approached the carriages with caution, not sure how to react to the ability to see the winged horses. They had no flesh, their black coat clinging to their skeletons underneath, every bone visible. Their faces possessed reptilian features: slitted nostrils, sharp cheekbones, and arched eyebrow bones. Their wide, leathery wings resembled those of a bat; their large eyes were a milky white and seemed to be staring right through us.

When we had safely climbed into the carriage, we gave each other a worried and unbelieving glance, but spent the ride to the castle in silence.

Dark shadows drifted across the sky like rubbish in the wind, illuminated every now and then by a flash of lightning high up in the clouds. I watched them warily on the trip into the castle.

Even the castle itself seemed to sense the oncoming war, for the portraits were less cheerful than usual and the candles floating in the Great Hall seemed dimmer. It was as if Voldemort was sucking the life out of everyone and everything.

Lizzie and I sat down at the Slytherin table and watched as the other students walked in. They were all whispering among themselves with furrowed eyebrows and worry lines around their mouths rather than the gleeful chatter and wide smiles that usually surrounded us during the Welcoming Feast.

By the time all of the students had entered the Great Hall and taken their seats at their respective tables, Snape had stood from his spot at the Head Table in the headmaster's seat that I had only ever seen Dumbledore occupy. It seemed so very wrong.

"That's enough," he spoke quietly, but his voice echoed out over the Hall and effectively made every student stop talking immediately and turn their heads towards him with apprehension. "Due to Professor Dumbledore's unfortunate... accident... at the end of last year, I will be assuming the position as Headmaster."