Hello everyone! This is Dendron!

I'm a student and therefore don't have much time to write, but I feel like I will get to the end of this story because I'm taking a new angle at writing.

This is un-beta'd and therefore may have spelling/grammar mistakes, although I do go through my writing fervently. If anyone likes the start of the story and would like to volunteer to beta, just e-mail me!

This will have brief moments in sixth year, but it will be largely in seventh year and about a year or so after for the war.

This WILL be a SLASH (malexmale) fic for HarryxDraco, that will not change to any other couples and WILL NOT remain just friendship. There WILL be adult language and sex in the story, so if you are sensitive to those things, don't read. Also, this WILL be a long fic, I will aim for about 150k or more. It will be dark at times, or sad, but it will not be continuously depressing. It will largely cover the Slytherins and will mostly be from Draco's P.O.V, but may switch to Harry's. Much Dark Magic throughout. Lastly, I don't like sad endings, and therefore will not likely have one, so don't get angsty at the end.

Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters or story of Harry Potter. That belongs strictly to J.K. Rowling. However, I can write based off of her stories, and will promptly do so.

There will be some latin/old english throughout the story, translations can be found at the end of each chapter. READ AUTHOR'S NOTES if you are ever really curious about something that might be mentioned, or e-mail me, I don't bite ;)

Much Love, Dendron.

The Killing Moon

Draco's P.O.V

A reflection can tell you many things, remind you of many things -make you into things.

My image, I knew, was sickly, pale, dark circles under my eyes and clammy skin, my hair was always greasy because although I always had enough time to shower, I didn't like the time to think.

Everyone at school noticed my complexion this year and they made up their sad sob stories to go behind it. I'd gained the sympathy of so many students in other houses since the start of this year. Even Granger didn't hold my alliances against me anymore, not with my illness sobering the lights of Hogwarts. In a way, taking out one of the most enigmatic people in Hogwarts, one of the most noticeable, most followed, takes away from the completeness of Hogwarts. In a way, they missed how I used to be: arrogant, mean, up close, everything a bad boy should be.

Now, my reflection was not one that showed confidence: I was openly sick. The duties passed on to me by my superiors was overbearing. While the anxiety was eating at me, I ate at nothing. I did not sleep without dreamless-sleep, did not move without pepper-up, did not respond without some well placed veritaserem, did not retain weight without nutrition potions.

The most I'd said that week was in between moist sobs to Myrtle, but she could not understand the guilt that my family was going to die because of me.

My father, silent, hopes that I succeed while wishing I did not have to. My mother sighs and rubs at her eyes.

In the end, they understood the consequence, not the responsibility, not the guilt.

The washroom door slammed open and the noise echoed around the room. Potter, standing bewildered and wild in his suspicion, was ignorant. He was the only person in the school who had not conceded to my depression, he saw it as a mask. He drew his wand, but continued to stand rigidly.

I couldn't stop crying. Another subtle threat had come through that morning from Voldemort, this one more aggravating than the others. I could do nothing to defend myself, and Potter became unnerved.

I felt like I would vomit, again, like I had after every other lunch. I prepared myself to make a comment to save face, but I could hardly move. I lowered myself to rest my upper body on the sink. When I could finally stand up and turn around, Potter had lowered his wand.

So I struck, a quick crucio that I knew wouldn't have come out even if Potter hadn't shot back.

We were into the battle so fast I couldn't tell who was where. None of my curses worked, though. They all missed, or just didn't incarnate, but Potter was in a state of wild abandon. The next crucio I shot out was returned with a very curious spell, one I only knew my godfather to use.

I could hardly concentrate as I laid there, dying.

Potter, I knew, was somewhere on the side, horrified at what he'd done. I wanted to tell him not to get help: leave me dying, then my family will be free from our charges. I wanted to tell him not to feel bad, he was just ignorant, uneducated.

Still, all I could do was breathe.

The bathroom swam around me.

My heart pumped hard to keep me alive while the support it gave poured right from my chest.

All the rest was pain, like crucio, but more excruciating in its continuation.

Severus was truly my best friend. He knitted me up without fussing over me and gave me potions for the pain. He sat by my bed for hours, telling me stories about his childhood and his original plans for the Sectumsempra against his own nemesis. On Monday, he brought real, non-hospital food for me: chicken, peas, gravy and potatoes. On Tuesday he played exploding snap with me.

I was supposed to be released as soon as my heart was finally mended, around the next Tuesday. The stasis spell keeping the wound on my heart kept it from bleeding and infections, but I could still feel it. It was itching, like a splinter not yet pulled from my skin. As much as I tried to ignore it, there wasn't anything to distract me in the hospital. I'd finished my homework, I'd read, I wrote to my parents, but it nagged at me for the rest of my abysmal time in the hospital.

The Sunday before I was released Poppy informed me that I had a visitor. None of the Slytherins had come in to see me, so I was surprised to find Blaise fidgeting at the side of my bed.

"Draco."

Apparently he had nothing else to say.

He slumped onto my bed and I returned to reading Dark Magic: Source of all Evil. I only read it because it was so absurd. Whoever the ministry-approved dunderhead was who wrote it, he really had no idea what Dark Magic was.

"We're all scared for you. Pansy's been crying all week and I can't sleep, and Greg..." Blaise sighed and took the book I was still clutching. He placed it on the night stand and turned to me. "Greg hasn't written home since last Saturday." I tried to look out the window in front of me while he spoke, but Blaise moved farther into the bed, blocking my view. "Greg has never gone that long without writing home, Dra-"

"It's not my problem. All of you-" Now that I had spoken, I didn't know what to say.

Of course the Slytherins were scared: I was their leader, tall, proud, smart, and now reduced to a snivelling wimp.

"All of you need to take care of yourselves for a while."

"How could we? You've always looked after us, the Malfoys have always looked after us! So don't you dare abandon us now, not when it could hurt us."

"You can't dump more responsibility on me, Blaise, I can't take it. I can hardly live under this... this... guilt. No matter which move I make, it is going to hurt a lot of people."

I hadn't meant to start crying, but Blaise didn't mind. He never did, never judged me. So he held me there for long moments, minutes, or maybe hours. It was starting to get dark outside, and I knew I'd only have another twenty-four hours in the safety of the infirmary. One thing I liked about Blaise being one of my closest friends was that he smelled good. It wasn't a particular scent, but an all around pleasantness. I could spill all my secrets to him, just be near him, and things would seem alright.

"I can't let my family die, Blaise."

"You don't have to. Talk to Dumbledore."

"No."

I was trying to sleep throughout Monday, but I was continuously interrupted by people: A crying Pansy and a tired Snape sat by my bed separately. They updated me on the happenings in Hogwarts while trying not to hint at their worry over my condition.

A humble Dumbledore visited me just before supper. He calmly sat on the end of my bed, his long fingers toying at a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"Draco-" he started, seemingly distracted by the lack of hostility in the room. "You should know that not everyone who converts from Voldemort's side has to fight under me."

"No, I don't expect they do."

Dumbledore was a man for whom I had much respect, although I'd expected him to have a more persuasive opening line than that.

"It is a beautiful view in the hospital, although I hope that you won't be spending too much time here this year." Dumbledore left after he'd said that and he'd handed me his pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. I left them on my nightstand, staring precariously at me, an innocent object in an otherwise dark world. I thought I might try one, but ridding myself of something given to me by Albus Dumbledore himself seemed wrong.

Sunset was brightening the dark clouds as I tried to finally close my eyes to sleep, but there were footsteps approaching my bed. Assuming it was Poppy with another dose of Essence of Dittany for my heart, I propped an eye open.

It was not Poppy, however.

Potter fumbled at my bedside, fidgeting like Blaise had earlier that week. Trying my best not to scare him away without finding out what he wanted, I sat up in bed. Potter hastily sat in the chair next to my bed, looking out the window as I was. Throughout the silence he would sometimes make a jerky movement. He'd brush the hair out of his eyes, scratch at his chin, rub his shoulder. Sometimes he'd face me like he was ready to talk, but he'd blush and turn back around.

I tried hard to keep my patience in check and put myself in his shoes. He was ashamed, and I'm sure scared because he was afraid of becoming evil. He looked nervous to say this, however. Potter's hand found its way onto my bed, and yearning for contact, I snuggled down into my sheets, Potter's unsuspecting hand brushing my cheek.

We finally looked at each other.

Potter's fingers stretched to touch more, my temple, my forehead, and he ran his fingers through my hair. The infirmary was finally dark, Potter's fingers still ran over my skin. I thought about what my father might say if he could see this displayed affection, but instead, I came up with the image that Potter and my father would be good friends.

In many ways they were similar. They were both utterly curious about what they didn't know. I was no longer curious about why Potter was here. For the first time that year, I could think calmly.

"Hey Potter."

The broken silence was startling for a brief moment, but Potter quickly refocused on me. "Think you can cut me up some more so I can stay in here for a while."

Although for a moment I thought he might get defensive, Potter gave a wicked grin. "How about a stinging jinx while your at the top of the stairs?"

"Or you could go do something heroic that would shut the school down for a little while."

"I'd love to, Malfoy." Potter stayed with me for hours, I must have been asleep when he left.

In the morning I felt calmer about having to leave the infirmary. I checked my belongings and made my bed. The scratchy sheets rumpled and furled disobediently on the bed and the pillow was bunched into one corner of its case. I swiped my hand over the nightstand table to curl fingers around my wand, but they brushed across something else.

"Revealo." A cream colored envelop with chicken scratch writing appeared in my hands. Trepidly I opened it, only to find a ripped piece of parchment inside.

"Malfoy - I won't forget about this. Neither will you. -H.P"

I smiled despite myself and tucked the thing into my inner pocket. Knowing that there would be questions to answer and rumors to catch up on, having that little piece of comfort gave me the slightest hope for my future.

Even with the envelope in my pocket, my hope for my future was dim lit at best.

Dumbledore slid down the wall in his weakened state.

Again, I couldn't stop crying.

The crushing weight of controlling the future of a great war was daunting and my ability to shoot a curse was timid. I heard the Death Eaters coming up the stairs to join me in my rebellion. Bellatrix's hair came into view as I slammed the door shut and cast as many wards possible. I staggered to Dumbledore to sink to his level. None of the old lights was in his blue eyes, but he smiled nonetheless.

"I do believe it's about time, Mr. Malfoy, that you leave the ranks."

I nodded. "But Se-"

"Severus will be fine. I locked him in the dungeons and cast a confundo on him-" Dumbledore chuckled and coughed "-he will be safe from his parents, Draco, are not safe. But Lucius is an intelligent man. He will-" Another cough broke his speech. Not trusting myself to speak, I left the tower, Dumbledore protected by every ward I knew.

The staircase was quiet and dark. Bellatrix and her followers were nowhere to be seen and their magic was unsensable. Unsteadily I ran down to the Great Hall, wondering what my ancestors would say if they could see me. Some would be proud that I'd not followed anyone else's orders and had chosen my own path, like any true Malfoy should. Others, Great Aunt Black definitely included, would be cursing me to my grave.

A bright green curse shot my way as I rounded the corner into the great hall, my wand in my hand reacting without missing a beat. Bellatrix stopped when she realized it was I who entered and I took the opportunity to use expelliarmus on her.

"Boy!" She said, her voice as shrill and unpleasant as when I was a child. "What are you doing? The dark lord will kill you for this treachery!"

"He will be just as angry with you. Protego! Crucio!"

Bellatrix went down screaming and Greyback was pushed to the side by a spell shot from behind me. I carried on with an expelliarmus to Yaxley who flew backwards, waving his arms in a vain attempt to keep balance. His wand flew towards me but was summoned quickly by Alecto. He stood dumbly until he finally realized he should give Yaxley back his wand.

For a moment I wondered why the Carrows were even selected for the invasion of Hogwarts with their limited intelligence.

Taking a chance to look behind me I saw McGonagall striding into action, joined by Flitwick and Sprout. Amycus shot curses in every direction to distract the teachers while Alecto aimed at McGonagall and I spun to shoot a protego infront of her. As our eyes linked she took in the understanding that I was not going to switch sides and she nodded at me.

A sudden sweep of pain took me over and the faint yell of crucio faded out.

My muscles felt as if they were going to explode and my head was pounding.

I could feel my heart pounding hard and the pain increased as the first of my scars from an old Sectumsempra tore.

The world came back into focus just as suddenly as it had slid away.

I spat blood out of my mouth once, then again. It kept coming back in mouthfuls of metallic fluids and dribbled down my chin. Lifting my wand I coughed out an episkey and gripped my knees to stand. I spat a last time and wobbled until my legs stopped shaking.

"Gedaelan!" A great rumbling began and the death eaters were thrown off balance as the Great Hall's floor separated, pebbles and debris thrown onto both sides between them and us.

"Elevo" Our side of the separation rose up, albeit slowly, until we looked three feet down at our enemies.

"Flodflet-" They fell again as water poured onto their lowered floor through all the cracks in the room. The stone walls trembled and the floor shook with the magic interfering its own. The ceiling faded into a huge mass of white, casting more light on us to see. The Slytherin table fell on its side and the Ravenclaw table slid until it hit the wall. The windows cracked from the shifted stones and threatened to shatter.

As our skirmish went on more teachers came into the hall and they teamed up in groups against the death eaters. Bellatrix had gotten up while my concentration was broken and tried to accio her wand from my grip. She failed and struggled in the rushing water that was now pooling up onto our platform.

In a desperate attempt to get her wand she stormed through the water in huge steps until she was close to the platform. My heart tore again and I lost vision for a single second. Bellatrix's wand clattered to the floor and she dove for it, but I kicked out. It caught her shoulder, but she recovered, her taut face tilted up as she began to cast a spell, and at a loss for what to do, I spat the blood in my mouth onto her face.

Bellatrix screamed in disgust so I lunged at her, sending us both sprawling into the water. Her palm hit my nose, but failed to break it, so I kicked out as hard as I could and must have caught her in the shin. I reached for my wand, but lost the notion as I hit the floor underwater, a large hand pulling my head up and pushing it back down to smack against the floor.

"Ascufan!" I screamed when I was pulled out of the water. Greyback was torn backwards and struggled against the barrier keeping him in place.

"Ascylfan!" The roar that came to life -as the werewolf in Greyback did, froze us all, but Greyback was already being torn apart. I desperately repeated the incantation until the werewolf's chest and forearms were bare of skin.

Bellatrix tackled me again and my back scraped against the bare rock and mud of the elevated floor. My hand struck out with my wand gripped in it and took off a line of my aunts forehead skin. She shrieked, backed up and fell into the water.

Arms wrapped around my shoulders to hoist me out of the water. I was shocked to see Potter behind me, but I refocused on Bellatrix to shoot a diffindo at her, just missing and sizzling into the water. Potter's voice yelled out an expelliarmus and I joined him in a tirade of spells until a Jelly-legs Jinx caught her.

Snape's deep voice rang out over the hall, making everyone stop in their tracks. They all turned like children caught in a schoolyard fight, but I knew this was my only chance to do what I needed to.

While Snape trotted forwards, his dragon hide boots clicking on the wet ground, I silently did the same.

"What in god's name are you all doing?" The edge of anger in his tone masked the sound of me stepping into the water and striding to my aunt. She realized what was coming and breathed in to scream. As she was about to wail I cast a silencio to border between us and the others on the platform.

A teacher -Flitwick, was trying to explain what happened when he entered the hall as Greyback commended Snape to their aide.

My hand on Bella's neck, however, was all I could concentrate on.

I squeezed so hard that my hand hurt and my veins impressed under my skin, until I could feel her flesh in between my fingernails and skin.

"Your family" she tried to whisper, to reason.

"-Will be glad to be rid of you."

I lowered her into the water, her head beneath the water, he screams beneath the water, and waited.

To me it seemed like long, slow minutes passed, but it was really just seconds.

Bellatrix stopped struggling. She was finally dead..

I walked back to the platform, telling Severus with my eyes that it was done, although I was sure he could see Bellatrix floating on top of the water behind me. Potter was the only one who'd bothered to keep and eye on me. His green eyes were wide with shock and fear, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed and his shoulders tensed.

He extended a hand to me when I got back onto the platform and I silently cast a drying charm on myself. His hand caught mine again and squeezed firmly, his eyes sympathetic and sad.

Of all the people in the hall, only two would know what I'd lost during this battle. Although it was Bellatrix who I killed, although I should have felt good, like a hero who killed a villain, I felt disgusting and dirty, like my soul was bloodied by the deed.

My head swam with guilt, but I looked to Potter again. Potter was always so brave, a trait I'd admired since my own turmoil began at the end of fourth year. I screwed up my courage and put on a straight face, ready to handle cries of manslaughter. With another squeeze to my hand we walked forwards and I observed how three or four teachers surrounded each of the death eaters.

Greyback, Yaxley, Alecto and Amycus were tied up by incarcerous' from my wand. They struggled and cursed, yelling about how I would get what was coming to me, how the Dark Lord would seek vengeance. "Your father will disown you for this, you brat! He will kill you! Lucius is loyal only to the Dark Lord, like all Dark Wizards!" Yaxyley screamed, his eyes popping open.

"You're naive, Yaxley. You don't know anything about Dark Magick, and more so, you don't know anything about my family."

I strode towards him and reached out a hand to delicately tilt up his ugly chin. "My grandfather was a fool, neither my parents nor I would ever willingly associate ourselves with your ugly, ignorant, lowlife ass." I pinched his cheek as hard as I could and gave it a hard slap.

Severus stood at the doors to the Great Hall with one arm held open. I walked into arms, enveloped in the smell of wolfbane and Essence of Dittany. "Alaeson eower aglareca, Draca." He whispered, nuzzling my head once before pulling away.

Severus tried to smile at me, but it came out looking something like a grimace. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and stood facing the crowd of teachers in the still ruined Great Hall.

"I cannot see to Dumbledore until tomorrow, but Pomfrey will." He looked around at them again. "I will attend to the state of the hall in a few hours."

"I believe we should get your parents away from the manor, Draco." Surprised by the sudden insight, I let Severus guide me to the dungeons. The walk was long and silent, I thought perhaps Severus was upset with me. When I looked over, though, he was on the verge of laughing. The sweet crinkles that came to his eyes when he smiled were folded up and jumped as the first chuckle escaped my godfather.

"What's so funny?" I asked him, on the verge of laughing myself.

"You. Fighting with Greyback and Bellatrix. It looked more like a mud-wrestling match than a magic battle." Although I couldn't find the humor in the situation, I laughed as Severus did.

"When you kicked her, I thought she was going start pulling your hair or giving you a wet-willie." Severus laughed louder, and it occurred to me that he must have been laughing in the doors to the great hall while watching me and my aunt's fight.

I frowned at his behavior, the youth in his age. "That hurt you know. Greyback isn't exactly gentle."

"Well you did quite the damage to him, you know." He responded, now coming up to his rooms. Severus unlocked his door and let me into the rooms I was so familiar with.

I knew he'd been toying with the idea of letting me move into them so I could help him more often with brewing, but I was already endowed to keeping the Slytherins under my belt. I un-warded Sev's floo-network and stood back as he fire-called my father.

"I don't know how it started, Lucius! Would you just come in? ...Not safe there... Shut you pompous ass and get you and your wife here now before I re-lock the floo-network!" Severus finally yelled out of frustration. He whipped his head out of the flames and sat down with a 'humph'.

Five, then ten, then fifteen minutes passed. I began to worry that my parents had been attacked or were just too stubborn to leave the manor. Severus patted my hand, but remained silent. After an hour had passed, I got up to head into my Godfather's bedroom to sleep.

Just as I was lying down I thought I heard something outside, but it was only Severus as he laid down beside me, answering my silent request to keep me near. Although I wasn't fond of being patronized in any way, I didn't mind being the little spoon to Severus. His arms were stable around me and the sweet scent of Essence of Dittany was lulling me.

It was this way that I could sleep, the impending deaths of my parents hanging questioningly over my head.

Alaeson eower aglareca, Draca. - Pardon your sorrows, Draco (Don't feel bad for killing Bellatrix)

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