you sat next to me at breakfast the following morning i thought i might crumble.

there were lingering glances - olive and eleanor didn't look amused - but kept their mouth shut.

i kept eating though the taste was now lost - good morning, thomas.

berkley.

back to surnames? pity. my tone is tight, i don't want to look at you.

but then your fingers brush against my arm and i do so anyway, you're like a walking magnet.

i look at you and you're a killer - cold and remorseless - a face of promising youth yet the eyes are always a betrayal.

are you going to kill me?

your head tilts - you don't say yes or no.

was the second one a muggle born as well? i ask quietly, swallowing down more juice but it stung my throat and i wanted to spit it out.

you play with your ring, spinning it around your your finger and a casual grin slips over you - muggle.

i blink.

what?

remember i told you my parents are dead.

oh, the sound came out small - like an afterthought.

you're still not running away.

do you want me to?

you don't answer - you never answer. it's infuriating.

when i leave divinations you're in the hall again, leaned against the wall like one of various statues but you come to life as i walk by.

are you free tonight?

you know that i am. i hate that you ask yet love it. you know i'm not busy - i never am. you're my only company. every time you ask it's a reminder.

you're a killer - but what do i care?

life is short - i want something more while i'm here.

they're dead. gone. nothing now. once a things not alive does it exist?

memories do but they're not people.

echoes of feeling - dread - grief - anger - all echoes but they aren't tangible.

but you're there - here - next to me. breathing and your heart is stained and you speak with your silence.

i don't trust you.

but i won't leave.

i cant.

i wouldn't be able to bear it.

the mood used to be enough for me - with his hovering presence and shimmering glow.

then you can along and have me a taste more and now i'm addicted.

yes, i'm free.