Draco Malfoy

She ran through familiar corridors, memories of which were now only memories. Her first kiss with Malfoy after Potions, in a dark corner of the hallway, or how she passed her first History of Magic test. Nothing mattered, because now her life hung in the balance.
Her breathing was ragged, and the vibration of her heart echoed in her ears with a sickening pain. The haze before her vision grew thicker and thicker, and her legs carried her as far away from the explosions and the war as possible. Her hair, which had been neatly braided this morning, was now sticking out in every direction. Her beige skirt was torn in several places, and her shirt left only hope for the best. Only the ring on her finger told her she had to stay alive—for her beloved. For Draco.
"Bend over! " she heard a shout from behind her and could only make out red hair that was stained with black shades, and a Gryffindor tie dangling casually around her neck.
She could have refused help, but that wasn't her situation. The slab that served as the floor on the second floor was collapsing right on top of her, and that red-haired guy had saved her, sacrificing his life. The girl knew herself—she would leave and give that guy a hard time, and then she would curse herself for it for the rest of her life. She ran back toward him, holding out her hand. He managed to grab hold and Apparate into the Hogwarts courtyard.
Standing up, she looked around. Everyone from first-years to the teachers stood guard around Hogwarts. Many were seriously wounded, while others escaped with scratches. Draco was nowhere to be found, and that was terrifying. As she moved through the crowd and reached the front, a horrific sight unfolded before her: Hagrid holding a battered Harry in his arms. Her hand instinctively went to her mouth in surprise. Her eyes scanned the crowd of Death Eaters, who had formed a defensive arc. Their faces were covered by black masks, all except one. My Draco.