"Let's go back," Hermione said as she watched a Thestral nuzzled into the side of Draco's head. Draco reached up absentmindedly and stroked his snout. With death standing around him, black satin skin on bones, glowing white eyes, and gentle breathing, Draco was the white beam of light amongst them. It was eerie, and uneasiness filled her. Draco whispered his goodbyes and then they worked their way back. No one was around. No laughter, or midnight parties, or games outdoors like that one night Hermione had come across the door. But then again, it was past midnight at this point.