The next year was one of the worst. I was thrilled to see Tom and he was happy to have me around, at least I thought he was. But we didn't talk like we used to. He was cold and his mind was somewhere far away. He seemed less like himself. Less human if it were possible. As if he were trapped between dead and alive, but that's impossible. He would go a month without speaking to me, and then one day he would pull me into a classroom and we wouldn't leave until midnight to return to the common room. He spent all his spare time with his new friends instead of me. It was good for him to finally be making some real friends, I shouldn't be jealous. But I was. I never wrote in the empty book Tom had given me at the end of the last school year but I kept it close. He became a prefect, he earned awards, the school loved him. He adored the attention. I loved him, he didn't notice. What had happened over the summer? Over the months of our sixth year I was confused, dying to know if he cared about me at all, and smitten knowing I was the only girl on his mind. It was a nightmare, and I was exhausted. I hoped the next summer would help clear his head and bring him to his senses, but when our seventh and last year at Hogwarts rolled around, he didn't come back.