Harry didn’t sleep well that night, his mind constantly playing over the impossible task still ahead of them, and the terrible truth he had kept hidden from Draco since August. By the time his alarm went off, he was still exhausted, and in no way ready to start another term of school. He could feel himself becoming increasingly disillusioned by this facade of normalcy that they were acting out every day. What did school matter? He could pass his OWLs in his sleep. What did the future matter? Not when it felt increasingly like a future that wasn’t meant for him.