Lupin chuckled, the scars on his face shifting with his movements. Tonks was beside him, holding his hands.

Harry trembled as the blast of a spell shuddered the very floor of where they’re standing on. He had been here before a thousand times.

Screaming echoed below them, as a thousand spells seem to blast simultaneously. Whether they’re from his allies or Death Eaters, Harry couldn’t tell.

He ran towards Lupin, the hallway and space between them seemed to stretch as Harry went on.

Another blast. A hole ripped through the walls. Shards of stone and dust exploded.

Th figures of Lupin and Tonks broke down into mist. When they reshaped, Hermione and Ron stared back at Harry with grave expressions.

A blinding flash of green light, the spell reached Hermione and Ron. The two of them collapsed like puppets with cut strings.

Before Harry could hear the thud of bodies colliding the floor, he felt himself launched back until the stairway.

The familiar Hogwarts staircase spiraled down. Harry knew what was coming next.

He reached a wooden door at the bottom of the staircase; pale blue light shone through the cracks.

Harry pushed the door open. It gave a creak, as if signaling the people inside.

A familiar white veil hung on the opposite of the room.

Bellatrix Lestrange stood in her usual maniac posture; her head turned towards Harry.

“Just in time Potter,” she singed before turning back her head, crackling widely. Her curled hair mirrored her movements, wild and psychopathic.

Harry turned his gaze towards the opposite of the room. His heart stung as a mop of raven hair appeared.

Harry’s insides clenched in sickening ways.

As Bellatrix’s laughter died down, she raised her wand at Sirius.

A red beam flashed out of her wand. Sirius tumbled back, a murky white engulfed him as his body was consumed by the veil.

Harry rushed forward, towards the veil. The distance growing thinner. Arms wrapped around him, stopping him from nearing it.

“Let go of me! Lupin!” Harry struggled out of the encaging arms, Sirius already disappeared.

Harry turned back.

Draco stared back at him, his grey eyes mixed with red, as if he was just crying.

Harry opened his eyes. Sweat, mixed with tears, damped his pillow. He hulled himself up, attempting to calm his ragged breaths. Harry shivered as he stepped down from bed, his legs still shaking.

The Godiva chocolate’s wrappings tingled with golden light under the moon ray. Days ago, Harry hexed a spell to keep it fresh. He took the chocolate, unwrapping it with trembling fingers. Lupin preached that chocolate healed the soul. Harry doubted, but tiny hopes like these helped. He nibbled at the chocolate.

Harry stayed still for a few minutes, eating the chocolate. Sleeping would be impossible with nights like these.

True, the dreams weren’t new. He’d dream Ron, Hermione, his parents, sometimes Dobby.

No matter the people, they always die, and Harry can do nothing except watching. But why was Draco there?

Harry’s head start to ache as he felt the morning cold getting on his nerves. The carpeted floor provided no warmth to his feet. Harry grabbed his cloak, leaving for some air.

The sun peaked out, casting a pale yellow to the sky. He winced as his footsteps echoed the halls. Way too loud. At times like these, the stone building above him seems to speak. In foreign murmurs and whispers he can’t understand. History written all over the stones and cracks. Harry shivered as he thought of the battle, pieces of his dream still clear in his mind.

As Harry neared the library, he noticed a ray of candlelight casted out of the room and into the hallway. The library was typically closed at nights. Harry himself shared experience with sneaking inside, and usually to the restricted areas. Out of curiosity and concern, he went inside, slowing down his steps to make sure no sound was made.

Draco hunched over a piece of parchment, a single candle illuminating his face. His eyebrows furrowed as he read along. Harry noticed the Slytherin’s paled face and, momentarily, wanted to go up to Draco and comfort him.

Harry’s heart freezes as Draco whispered, “How likely is it that I’ll marked anyway?”

Theodore Nott appeared behind a library shelf, “Depends on your behavior, your parents will certainly be marked though.”

Marked? Harry glanced between Theodore and Draco. What did they mean by that? Like the Death Eater Mark? But it already faded with Voldemort.

“Tell me again why it is me and you who are breaking the rules,” Draco complained.  

“We can’t let the lady do the work, and Blaise sleeps like a pig,” Theo commented in his monotone voice.

“I will be waiting for the day when Pansy’s marked and homeless because she didn’t wake up this morning,” Draco teased. What does being marked even mean? Harry’s mind raced. Whatever it meant, it didn’t entail anything good.

“Just keep reading,” Theo ordered, with a tone that suggests he was annoyed at his friend.

Harry edged nearer to the pair. It’s a dangerous move; people seem to sense invisibility cloaks when nearby.

The article Draco held seemed like a piece of news dated back to the 1980s, after infant Harry just defeated Voldemort.

It was the first wave of Death Eater capturing, the second was happening right now.

“This one could help, I highlighted the parts that we might need,” Draco mumbled, turning abruptly away from the paper. Harry retreated a few steps back. Draco ran his hand through his hair with frustration before turning to Theo.

“Then let’s practice the interview,” Theo continued his annoyed tone. He sat down, knee-to-knee with Draco. The two boys faced each other.

Harry edged into a corner, watching with confusion.

Was it some sort of ritual? What is the interview about anyway? Job interview? Maybe too early for that, but with Draco’s circumstance, it is likely to want to secure a job. Harry winced with his train of thought.

But what about being marked? That surely must tie somewhere with the interview.

“I will ask you a few questions: I want you to answer at the best of your abilities. No stress, but please remain truthful.”

“Is this actually how the official will ask me,” Draco asked, the soft tone from all their previous conversations came back. Harry shook away his thoughts, he was getting too comfortable with Draco, despite the guy not doing anything.

“I had experience before, don’t question it,” Theo said stiffly. Harry remembered vaguely that Theo’s father was captured after the first fall of Voldemort.

Theo paused for a moment before he leaned in, the candle casting an unnatural shadow over his lean figure.

“How would you describe your father? What was your relationship like?”

Harry noticed Draco fidgeting in his seat, the gray eyes darting frantically.

“My father is strict, but I know that he umm he cares for me, for our family. He was my first teacher,” Draco mumbled, clearly uncomfortable with the question.

Which interview asks family problems? Maybe it’s just Draco’s case. Harry felt his jaws clenching. He hesitated to leave that moment, he felt he was stepping into privacy. He started edging away, stopping sharply as he heard Theo’s response.

“Trash. You need to stop the stammering,” Theo criticized, his voice an inch away from snapping, “Think of one moment. And describe it with fairy dust and life lessons.” Harry frowned, Theo was being harsher than necessary.

“I haven’t seen real fairy dust until that one time in Knockturn Alley. Some bald, greasy guy was trying to sell it. He’s not the type to give life lessons though. Want me to tell you that?” Draco deadpanned.

Theo only gave a disproving glance at Draco while Harry stifled a laughter.

Seconds passed by as Draco started again, “My father taught me how to ride my broomstick. He was younger back then so he would ride with me, telling me to concentrate. I remember a time when I got stuck on our roof. Father told me to get unstuck myself. I did and I landed safely. Even if I didn’t, I knew he would catch me.”

Harry’s breath hitched at the small confession. Now he really needed to leave.

“Better,” Theo’s tone softened, as he added hesitantly, “Maybe more focus on with the story, but anyone can see that the feelings are genuine. That’s what they’re looking for.”

Theo sounded funny, as if he felt guilty, Harry thought. Or maybe not. One thing was sure though, if he was exposed right now, he wouldn’t know how to face the Slytherins.

His feet tripped on the carpet. Harry grabbed onto a desk, leveraging himself with his arm. He untangled his leg, slowly regaining his balance. Phew, crisis averted.

Seconds later, Theo turned, staring at the library’s dark corners, feet away from Harry’s location.

“I swore I heard something,” Theo mumbled to Draco, his voice growing quieter.

“Could be the wind,” Draco scanned the space. Harry swore Draco’s eyes stilled on him before it turned back to Theo.

“Just stop it, there’s nothing here,” Draco said, sounding adamant, “Go back to the common rooms if it bothers you so much.”

“Yeah, we found what we wanted,” Theo mumbled, grabbing the newspaper along several other books. The boy stopped at the library doorway as he waited for Draco.

“You can go first. I have some extra research. Transfig stuff,” Draco smiled slightly, the expression not quite reaching the eyes, “And close the door! I don’t want anyone stumbling inside.”

“Want me to stay with you?” Theo offered, “I could help with the research.”

“I’ll be fine,” Draco ensured.

Theo studied Draco with concern before he left, the door closing with him. Harry’s stomach dropped as he watched the only exit blocked off.

He turned back to see Draco approaching him. The cloak thudded to the floor a few seconds later.

“You’ve got to stop eavesdropping Potter, it’s getting rather embarrassing don’t you think?”