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A white singing bird lies dead inside the Vanishing Cabinet.
Marina holds Draco as he shakes violently. He rests his head on her shoulder, gasping and choking, shattering in her arms, knowing that afterward, the two must walk to the breakfast table as if nothing is wrong. They have killed a bird, naively thinking that it would have have survived traveling to Borgin and Burkes and back. But now, it lay lifeless.
Marina and Draco had spent the holiday break at Hogwarts. For the first time in their lives, they had chosen to stay in the castle instead of celebrating Christmas with their family. They had woken up at dawn every day and found their way to the Room of Requirement, not going back to their Common Room until dusk. Yet, it seemed like nothing had happened to the Cabinet, and it was driving them insane.
It was now just a short hour left until the first classes of the year begun. Excited students skipped into the Great Hall one by one, ready to tell their friends stories from the break. Draco excused himself, saying he needed to get something from the Common Room, and Marina sat down at the Slytherin table without him.
"Where did you go the night of Slughorn's dinner?" asked Blaise, moving closer to her on the bench. His question echoed in her head as she faked a sweet smile and turned to him.
"Good to see you again, Blaise," she lied. "I think I left early to go to bed. I didn't miss anything important, did I?"
"No, not really," answered Blaise quickly. "I mean, Slughorn introduced us to some of his old students... some famous Quidditch players, but I don't think you would have cared much."
"I'm sorry I left early. I should have said something, but I got a terrible headache," lied Marina again, memories of the night playing in her head.
"Don't worry about it. I understand you've had a lot on your mind..." Blaise lowered his voice and looked around to check that no one was listening to their conversation. "Balancing school and the missions."
"I'm fine, Blaise," snapped Marina in a sudden harsh tone. The mention of the missions had awoken sharp anger in her. "And from what I heard, you were perfectly fine without me at the dinner, anyway, snogging every girl that looked your way."
Blaise's face twisted. He tilted his head to the side for a second, as if he was debating whether or not to open his mouth and answer her. Then, he simply moved away from her. Marina turned to her left, expecting Draco to sit at his usual spot at the table. But he was still gone.
An excited cry made her turn her head. Ten owls flew over the four tables in the Great Hall, which, to her surprise, was a lot for a day like this. They dropped their letters in front of their owners. Marina reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. To Mr. and Mrs. Allen, it read. She had spent no less than three days wondering how to tell them about their son's death. Then, finally, the courage to write the lines she had needed to write had found her. They deserved to know the truth, and she refused to forget Louis' name. She made her way over to the Gryffindor table, looking down at the paper and folding it twice.
