It was hard to decipher shapes now with his sight becoming unfocused and unreliable. The edges turned black in spots so large he could not interpret blown up sinks from Ron Weasley's shaking form. When Draco coughed lightly, blood squirted from his chest in great rivers of red and so he closed his eyes at the sight, knowing it would be the last thing he ever saw. The gentle caress of death's cold, thin, fingertips stroked at his wounds. Soft words were spoken over him, lulling his already dwindling brain into the darkness that beckoned, beyond the bathroom, beyond the castle walls, into the open arms of death as it awaited his arrival. At last, welcoming Draco's soul back into the either where he would wait an eternity more to find his bond again. Hermione.. She was his last thought before he blacked out, losing the fight against the darkness that motioned him forward into his last embrace.