EPILOGUE: And They All Died. The End.

Draco Malfoy sat at breakfast feeling extremely disquieted. For those who did not understand the moods of Malfoy, this meant Draco Malfoy was pissed. And not at anyone in particular either, which bode ill for everyone seeing as how the entire student body was now fair game to his foul mood.

He wasn't sure why he was feeling such unrest at this early hour, which only served to piss him off even more. His homework was completed, there were no tests, none of his girlfriends suspected anything about the other…but there was something…

Damn it all, it was like trying to remember a dream! The more he thought about it, the less he felt he could grasp.

Deciding he was no longer hungry, Draco stood and headed out of the Great Hall. Maybe whatever was troubling him really was a dream. But if that was the case, it must have been one hell of a dream…

Still deeply immersed in his thoughts, Draco didn't notice the one obstacle in his path that didn't seem like it was about to jump out of his way until he ran into it.

Harry Potter.

Draco's normally short fuse didn't even bother lighting itself before he exploded.

"Bloody hell, Potter! Watch where you're going! If you're going to show up for breakfast in the last five minutes, at least do it with some fucking semblance of grace! Try brushing your hair for once! Or washing you face! Or buy better clothes!"

Now Harry, who was normally a fairly good morning person, was also feeling a tad bit disquieted when he woke up. He had a dream that he had been avoiding Malfoy at all costs. For some reason, he was not fond of the idea that he would run away from the cowardly blond, and bumping into him now caused something to snap within him as well.

Not even bothering with words, he shoved Malfoy back with disgust and moved to make it to breakfast.

Slowly recovering, Draco looked up and was fully ready to charge at the idiot Gryffindor when the Headmaster chose that moment to walk out.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore greeted jovially. "Lovely morning, don't you agree?"

Neither boy responded, opting instead to glare at one another before mutually turning away to head off down their separate paths, both sharing the mutual thought of, 'What a bastard.'

A/N: Don't hate me. This is more or less to help drive home the fact that nothing is remembered. But look on the bright side! The sequel is up! It's called 'Distorting Enemy Lines' and can be found under my profile.