Daylight leaked through the windows of the Great Hall, slowly illuminating the bodies of those who slept. Some rested upon those of others, fingers curled together like ribbons, limbs sprawled out as though they had only recently been set free. Some propped themselves up against the cold stone walls, their faces burried into their knees as their dreamless sleeps controlled their minds. Others were cast along the dark tables, chests pressed into the wood, and knotted hair lying in every direction. Each individual remained lifeless, and only stirred occationally, yet even then it was evident what they all had in common.
Draco’s eyes swept across their cuts and grazes, resting every few moments on patches of dried blood that stained their grimy skin. As far as he could tell, he was the only one awake in the large hall, and a feeling of isolation flushed over him. He turned slowly and quietly, so as not to make much noise, and glanced over at his mother and father who also lay motionless yet intertwined. They were out of place here, among people who had fought against them, however no one had seemed to bother them all that much. Draco winced as his memories from the previous night flooded his mind. The Dark Lord was gone. Crabbe was dead. And Potter… Potter had saved his life. Fuck.
The two were notorious for having a feud of sorts, which was very far from private. Although, Draco had to admit, the boy had just saved the damn wizarding world. Potter did owe him though, he thought to himself, reminiscing back to that night in the Manor where Potter had been brought to be examined before him. Yes, that meant they were even. He didn’t know how easily he could live owing Harry Potter his life.
He let a soft sigh slip out from his almost closed lips, and rose from the Slytherin table were his parents slept. His joints clicked despite the swift movement, which they had been doing for a few months now, and he drifted away from the hall, leaving the them behind.