Isolation

45. Harry

.

"Do you want to help me carry him to the other line?" asked Blaise.

Draco blinked and lifted his head.

He'd been lost in a world of his own then; a dark world which wasn't too far removed from his current reality. The Great Hall was the same dismal, cold, and haunted room it had been before he'd watched Theo die, but now he felt so much more sensitive to the chill in the air and the bleak atmosphere. Had it been up to him, he wouldn't have returned to the Great Hall, but Hermione had insisted, and where else would he have gone? After he'd calmed down, he'd scrubbed at his face furiously, determined to remove any evidence of his tears. His face was now red and sore, but at least it wasn't wet.

He didn't want anyone else but Granger to know.

She'd left him alone for the moment, trying to find Potter and also get some tea to, as she put it, "make him feel better", but he wished she'd stayed. He hadn't asked her to, but he wished she'd stayed. He thought too much when he was alone, and none of his thoughts were comforting. He would prefer not to think at all.

"Draco," said Blaise. "Did you hear me? Do you want to help me carry Theo?"

He nodded, not trusting his voice. Following Blaise, he returned to the same spot in which he'd watched Theo die, and Theo was still there; bloody, ashen, and unmoving. Miles, Tracy, and Millicent were still stood nearby, sullenly shifting their weight, uncertain what to do. Someone had clearly moved Theo; his body was straight and flat on the cold floor, his head resting on Miles' blood and ash-stained jumper.

Draco's footsteps faltered and he inhaled sharply, fighting very hard to keep his composure. As he crouched beside Theo, the stench of blood invaded his nostrils, but he suppressed the urge to gag. Carefully, he and Blaise pulled Theo up, each draping one of Theo's arms across their shoulders before they stood up and slowly began to walk towards the fatality line. Theo was so heavy, a deadweight, but Draco refused to allow his stature to be compromised.

He would keep his back his straight. If nothing else, he would keep his back straight.

"Blaise," said Draco, his tone croaky. "I think...I think we should put him near Tonks and Remus."

Blaise simply nodded. Apparently, his voice had given up on him, too.

When they came to where Tonks and Remus lay, they gently lowered Theo down beside them on a stretcher. Stepping back on his shaky legs, Draco stared at the three bodies despite his desire not to. Tonks and Remus seemed paler to him now; more dead, somehow. But Theo...Theo's expression still seemed to have some life in it; his brow was still furrowed in pain and there was still some pink in his cheeks.

"Do you think he knew that we gave a shit?" blurted Draco. "Do you think he knew that...that he was important?"

"Yeah, he knew."

"But I never-

"You didn't need to."

Silence again. Everything is always broken up by silence. Punctuated by silence. Silence is nothing, but it's everything, because we hunt for words in silence. We think in silence. Our minds work hard in silence. And yet it's awful. It's empty. It's lonely. Necessary nothingness.

Blaise sighed and rubbed his eyes, staring hard at Theo. "I keep expecting him to open his eyes, jump up, and say 'You two are so gullible', or something. Seems like the kind of shit he would pull."

Draco nodded. "He always did have a twisted sense of humour."

"I feel like I should say something, but I don't know what to say."