You hear strange, unusual sounds coming precisely from the bathroom your good friend Harry just stepped into.

He has been acting strangely of late and that alone is enough to pull you after him.

Frowning, you move toward the door and enter, though you know you were not meant to. Curiosity does, after all, have a reputation for ending poorly.

The sight that greets you stops you cold.

The room is flooded, water spreading across the tiles in a trembling mirror. In the center stands Harry, utterly still, staring down at something you cannot yet see.

You follow his gaze.

There lies Draco on his back, pale against the cold floor. And almost at once, you notice the dark bloom beneath him. A widening slick of red, staining the water around him like spilled ink.