Echo in the Dark

The scarlet school train chugged tirelessly along the seemingly endless track as a torrent of rain pounded the windows. It zipped past rolling hills with the occasional sheep or pony before plunging into dark forests for nearly an hour at a time. The occupants of its cars included best friends and worst enemies; anxious first years and reluctant seventh years; students with their minds on the future, and those dwelling on the past.

Draco Malfoy sat alone in the last empty car in the whole train. His forehead was pressed against the cool window and his arms were folded across his chest, closing himself off from the world. He had told Crabbe and Goyle to do what they pleased, but they had decided to stay with Draco, so he ordered them away. It was amazing how incredibly dense they could be sometimes. Those thickheaded brutes of his knew what had happened to him yet they still didn't understand why he was so damn belligerent.

The hair Draco had fussed over for so long in the past lay limp and neglected around his ears and his state of dress was utterly disgraceful. He didn't even really know what clothes he was wearing; he had dressed in the dark. He just didn't care anymore. Echo's death had drained him of his own will to live.

"There you are Draco," the voice of an amiable Irishman drifted through the door. Draco didn't even bother to look up and see who it was. The only Irish person in all of Slytherin was seventh year Cash Roberts, even though he didn't seem like a Slytherin half the time. "I saw Crabbe and Goyle a few cars down looking very lost so I decided to come find you and see if you were doing all right."

"Me? I'm splendid," he responded in a flat tone. Cash didn't believe him for a second.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah, never better." Cash sighed and shook his head; he was too impatient of a person to stick around for this. But then he caught a glimpse of Draco's reflection in the window. He was shocked to see bloodshot eyes and splotches of red sticking out on the normally pale and emotionless face of his friend.

"Draco?"

"What is it Cash?" he snapped, finally showing a little emotion. Cash moved into the car, closing the door behind him so no one else could hear the answers to the questions he was going to ask.

"Have you been crying?" Once again Draco gave no answer, and once again Cash continued, "What's wrong with you Draco? Potter's getting way too cocky with no one there to tear apart his self confidence, Crabbe and Goyle don't seem to know where the bloody hell they are, and children are playing happily in the halls." The small joke at the end of Cash's sentence didn't go over all too well with Draco. He just pulled his legs up on the seat and wrapped his slender arms around his knees. He looked like a lost little boy.

"It's been a very long summer," he choked out after a long silence.

Cash moved over to Draco and sat down. The train jumped slightly as it hit something on the tracks and a small piece of paper fluttered down from Draco's trunk in the overhead compartment. He made no move to pick it up and Cash slid down to the ground and grabbed it.

There were two people in the picture; a boy and a girl. The girl was short-- about 5'3"-- with medium length blonde hair pulled up in a loose bun. She had on unfastened plain black robes over a white shirt with a large English flag on it and blue jeans. In short, she was beautiful. She and the boy were playfully pushing each other around with identical smiles on their faces. Who would have guessed the boy was Draco?

"Who is this girl Draco?" Cash asked in awe. It was obvious this girl made him happy-- at least happier than Cash had ever seen him-- so what had happened to her?

"What, you think she's hot?"

"She's beautiful." Draco turned his head and gave a small smile as he took the picture from Cash's grasp. It was quite disturbing to know that the boy everyone thought devoid of any feelings whatsoever had smiled and cried on the same day.

"She is, isn't she?" As these words escaped from Draco's mouth his grief returned and he turned back to the window.

"So, who is it?" Draco gritted his teeth and threw the picture to the floor again.

"She's just a corpse now!" he barked. "And I hate her! I hate her for leaving me! I hate her for not being there for me just when I'd begun to rely on her again! I hate her I hate her-- oh who am I kidding? I love her and there never was a time when I hated her." He slid down to the floor and picked up the picture again. "I thought I had her back. I thought I had her back and no one was going to take her from me ever again." He looked up to Cash, tears beginning to form in his eyes again. "She was my sister Cash. My twin sister, and I miss her like you can't even imagine."

"How did she die?"

"That's a long story, Cash."

"Would you mind telling it?" Draco sighed and leaned back against the seat. He didn't even seem to notice he was still sitting on the floor. Because he wasn't. He was in another place and another time.

He was home and it was the best and worst summer of his life.