At the top of the stairs he was met by two boys he vaguely recognised from school, but they were throwing hexes at him with such force that he didn’t bother to try to recall their names. One tried to throw a blasting curse straight at his chest, Draco threw his shield up so quickly with such force and power that the curse rebounded onto the other boy who was promptly blown apart, splattering Draco with blood. He spun to the remaining wizard who was staring at his dead friend. Dean. That was the dead boy’s name.