Y/n really didn’t understand how they had ended up here. Standing in the middle of the war, spells flying overhead and parts of the castle crumbling around them, y/n stood almost completely still, wand loosely held in their right hand as their gaze drifted toward the sky. It was gray and heavy with ash, the air filled with smoke and the distant sounds of fighting. Y/n thought the day had started with the sun out, but they couldn’t particularly remember. Everything felt like a blur now. Y/n shouldn’t even be here. They should have just gone home. But when McGonagall had locked the Slytherins away in the dungeons, y/n had been with them. Not because they wanted to be, but because that was their house. So y/n had gotten dragged into it just like everyone else. And now, here they stood. Alone. The castle was falling apart around them, spells flashed across the battlefield, and people were fighting desperately to survive. Yet somehow, y/n couldn’t bring themself to care. I don’t want to be here. That was all y/n could think. Because y/n already had enough problems. Their home life had never exactly been kind to them. Abuse, neglect, and years of learning that sometimes the safest thing to do was simply stay quiet and endure whatever came next. And now, after everything they had already survived, they were expected to stand in the middle of a war and fight for their life? Why should they have to? So perhaps it wasn’t surprising that y/n simply… stood there. Until Bellatrix Black found them. Y/n barely reacted when Bellatrix approached. There was no dramatic fight, no desperate attempt to escape. They simply allowed Bellatrix to grab them and pull them away from the battlefield, their wand still hanging loosely in their hand. And no one noticed. Not really. Everyone was too busy fighting. Too busy trying to stay alive. Too busy watching the people around them fall. So when y/n disappeared from the battlefield, no one had the chance to notice.