Draco was out of the room before he could think any further, his mind spiralling. He ran as fast as he could, his feet pounding against the stairs, any concerns about being caught miles from his mind.  What if he was too late? He’d been so overcome by his own rage and heartbreak that he had been blind to what was in front of his own eyes.  What if he was too late? What if Harry was dead, and the last thing he had heard was that Draco regretted loving him?   What if he was too late?!