They say that when you're about to die, your life flashes before your eyes.
Draco knows, now, that this is true.
He's in he middle of a war, a goddamn war, a war he never even wanted to fight.
There he is, in the midst of the battle, and a hurriedly shouted sectumsempra flies towards him out of nowhere -
- and strikes deep across his stomach.
First he sees nothing, then everything at once.
First year, making fun of the Weasley family. What did they ever do to you?
Second year, shouting about mudbloods and enemies of the heir. How would it feel to be one of them?
Third year, fourth year, fifth year, sixth year. Each passes in a blur, each more regrettable than the last.
But then, among the sludge, a diamond.
Is it him? His father demands. Is it Harry Potter?
And for one glorious moment, he hesitates.
He hesitates.
And it is beautiful.
And he is content, because at least before he dies, he knows that he did something good in his life.
And then it turns out, he doesn't die at all.
Because out of nowhere, a cloth is pressed to his stomach and a pair of arms lifts him off the ground and a voice whispers in his ear.
It's over.
We've won.
We're free.
And then it doesn't matter if he lives or dies, because it's over, it's over, and they're free.
And then all goes black.
When he awakes, he is in the hospital wing. Hoisting himself up painfully, he glances around. A girl with bright red hair sleeps in the bed next to his, and he recognizes her as the Weasley girl.
And there is Potter, slumped in a chair by her bed.
And then he notices that Draco is awake.
And so Draco nods to him.
And Potter smiles, ever so slightly.
And then Draco knows, knows who it is who saved his life.
And so he smiles as well.