When I opened my eyes, the night was finally dying.

The stars were dulling as the sun pierced the remaining darkness. The forest around me was eerily calm, but I kept glimpsing the darting shadows shifting behind the thick cover of leaves. I sat propped up against a tree, its bark digging into my back. It had only been a few hours; the rain was still visible, clinging to blades of grass, causing the ground to become spongy. I hadn't meant to close my eyes, but I could hardly keep them shut. My mind kept playing back horrible scenes in my head. I wanted them to stop. If I looked down, my hands were still sticky with Lavender's blood. My robes were still shredded to singed strips. My head throbbed dully as if Bellatrix's fingers were still in my hair like they had been, back in the Department of Mysteries. It was hard to believe barely a day had passed since I had stepped foot into the Ministry of Magic, and hardly a few hours since the destruction of Hogwarts itself.

The leaves on the ground across from me rustled, bringing me back into the present. Underneath his bunched up robes, Malfoy groaned. He rolled over, his eyes shut, lips moving as he mumbled a string of curses. A leaf was stuck to his forehead, just above his eyebrow. Normally I would have laughed, ridiculed him until his face flushed with embarrassment. But nothing was normal anymore.

My stomach felt like it was trying to digest pieces of sharp glass. Every bone in my ached and my chest felt hollow. It hurt to blink, my body aching right down to every eyelash. Malfoy looked a bit worse for wear himself, but I doubted my appearance reflected any better than the way I felt.

Malfoy had ditched the bandage around his head and the thin white strips that held the cuts on his face sealed were visible. His left eye was starting to swell an ugly purple color, and his split lip was already bruised. It was easy to say Malfoy was furious about his injuries; he hadn't gone more than five minutes without complaining about something superficial until he had passed out under the oak tree: his aching skin, his dirty hair, his ruined clothes, or the fact that he hadn't ever slept on anything other than a feather down bed before.

We were out of the castle before anyone noticed our disappearance. Not that anyone would have noticed I was gone anyway. I bit back the tears, turning my eyes upward towards the sky. It had been made clear that I wasn't welcomed anymore.

Malfoy moaned in his sleep again. I couldn't believe that I had ended up with him. Of all people, it had to be the Slytherin prat I had loathed the moment he had opened the compartment door on the train. Was someone trying to play a joke on me? It wasn't very funny. It felt as if I were being punished.

It hurt to know that Harry was out there someone, in the hands of the very man who wanted to kill him. Just another ache to add to the list that was already starting to pile. But no amount of physical remedies could fix that.

It was an understatement to say I was confused. Harry was only fifteen and Dumbledore was dead, the Death Eaters had attacked Hogwarts, and Voldemort had the greatest weapon in the world. I hadn't forgotten the jeering words he had whispered to me on top of the Astronomy Tower. He knew about the Elder Wand; he even knew where to find it. It sent chills down my spine and I shivered uncomfortably, the warm summer breeze suddenly making me feel like I was caught in the middle of fall without a jacket. If Voldemort already knew about the Deathly Hallows a year ahead of time, there wasn't anyone who could tell me how much more he was capable of doing. No one except Voldemort himself.

I had decided it was best to stay hidden until the aftermath of the attack had dispersed. The train arrived an hour after we had made it to Hogsmeade and I watched from the trees as the injured were loaded as quickly as possible. Hysterical mothers and worried fathers pushed their way off the train, into the crowd of students who were well enough to travel outside on their own. The cries of ones reunited bounced off the trees around me, as well as the cries of mourning and pain of the parents left childless.

Abruptly, Malfoy yelled sharply. I jumped, throwing a cautious glance over my shoulder, but no one came running. Leaning forward, I sat up, using the tree trunk to push me onto my feet. Malfoy rolled over suddenly. His eyes were still closed.

"Mummy," Malfoy moaned. Dropping to one knee, I reached for his shoulder. "Please," he begged. I pulled my hand away sharply as he whitened on the ground, groaning again. "Mummy, I hurt . . ."

I stretched my fingers out blindly, cringing as they made contact with the fabric of his shirt. "Malfoy."

"Help me, Mummy."

A part of me felt extremely imposing, like I was violating his personal space watching him moan for this mother. I prodded his shoulder again with the tip of my pointer finger, harder this time. "Malfoy, wake up."

Malfoy's eyes fluttered and I watched as the gears slowly ticked away in his head, inching into place. He scooted backward a few feet, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth as if checking to see if he had drooled. Malfoy looked wild, his hair dirty and matted, his clothes ripped, and his eyes wide.

"You were having a nightmare." I don't know why I chose to say that, but it seemed better than the truth.

Malfoy didn't answer, his face flushing an unmistakable pink right before he turned his back to me. I knelt there, completely still with my hands at my sides, watching him drag his fingers aimlessly though the dirt as he collected himself. His shoulders remained tense and I knew he could feel me staring. Sighing, I leaned back, easing myself back into the spot under the tree.

"What time is it?" Malfoy turned slightly, still keeping his back to me. If he was still embarrassed that I had caught him calling out for his mother, he could forget about it.

"Sometime after seven."

He mumbled something I didn't catch, probably a curse. He looked away until I was left staring at the back of his head again. We fell silent. I paused, not really knowing what exactly I was waiting for.

"Is there anything to eat?"

I didn't move for a moment, watching him as he turned around. His eyes grazed over the ground at my feet before he blinked, looking directly at me. I could have sworn his expression narrowed, like he was challenging me. Wordlessly, I reach over to dig into the pack I had grabbed off of Lavender's bed. Back in the dormitory, I had hesitated, my fingers gripping the straps as I stared at her made bed, the comforter pulled back at one corner as if it was just waiting for her to walk right through the door and slip under the sheets. Biting back tears, I had turned on my heel, throwing things into the pack, managing to grab a few apples from the common room. Pulling one from the bag, I tossed it to Malfoy, who yanked his head back as he caught it with both hands inches from his face. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but stopped, his gaze dropping back to the apple in his hands.

I threw the pack back onto the ground. I wasn't hungry. I didn't know if I would ever be able to eat anything again.

Across from me, Malfoy made a face as he bit into his apple. He drew his legs up to his chest, resting his elbows on his knees.

"What?" I couldn't resist it, but I should have just kept my mouth shut. "Have you never had an apple before? Or were they already cut up for you?"

Malfoy shot me a look of pure hatred. I didn't need to tell him that the feeling was mutual. "I'm not stupid, you know," he said, eyeing me over his knees. "You may think I'm no better than some house elf."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a ferret." My tongue moved faster than my brain, and the words slipped out before I could stop them, my anger flaring.

Malfoy shut his mouth quickly, his lips pulling into a hard line. I could feel the tension thicken as his knuckles faded to an even paler white around his knees as he clutched his legs tightly with anger, his face slowly beginning to flush.

An awkward silence passed. Malfoy adverted his gaze to bit hesitantly into his apple again and I stared silently at my feet, watching the diminutive blades of grass sway in the slight breeze.

"The sun's almost up," I said. "We need to get out of here before someone finds us." Malfoy didn't say anything, only acknowledging me with a slight shift in his gaze. If this was what I had to look forward to, I knew I would have better luck in hell. "Can you apparate?"

Malfoy scoffed, looking at me incredulously. "Do you want to lose a limb?"

"It's not like I've had much practice either," I shot back. Malfoy raised an eyebrow as if he was suddenly amused. They didn't teach fifth years how to apparate. And it wasn't even possible to try on the grounds, either. It had been a stupid question, and Malfoy knew it.

Malfoy paused, staring at me. I wished he would just look away. "You don't have a plan?"

"Do you?" I didn't even hold back the venom in my voice. He was questioning everything I had already doubted, and I knew if I dwelled on it, I wouldn't be able to take it. "Do you have any ideas how to trace someone who could be anywhere in the world right now?"

I didn't realize I had raised my voice until I stopped, my breath catching in my throat. The forest was still silent, but it seemed to ring. Or maybe it was just my ears.

"If I were . . . You-Know-Who," Malfoy said slowly, "I wouldn't take Potter too far. You know, because if he is still alive, You-Know-Who still needs him for something.

My head snapped up, my eyes narrowing. It was silent for another moment.

"Stop staring at me," Malfoy said.

"You seem to know an awful lot about this." It wasn't a question.

Malfoy saw right through me. "You do too."

I bit my tongue, keeping all the words that threatened to slip past my lips from spilling out. He was just trying to irritate me. I couldn't trust anything he said. Not that I even wanted to. A part of me had wanted to leave, to ditch him lying there in the dirt. But I knew that if I left him, he would be a dead man walking. And I would be too.

Suddenly, I gasped. My heart leapt into my throat. I was so stupid. Maybe I still had the upper hand. I knew everything, even from the beginning. And to the end. Why hadn't I though of it sooner? "I know where Harry is."

Malfoy looked up, his expression unreadable. In the distance, a horn blew. I turned, standing quickly as I peered over the trees. Hogsmeade was alive with smoke, the black shadow that was the Hogwarts Express lit like coals against the sunrise.

Everything that had happened in the past day had left me broken, but I felt suddenly alive again, my veins surging with adrenaline. I had spent hours searching for an answer, when all it had taken was a few words.

"We're going to get on that train."