This is my first try at Harry Potter. I have been obsessed with Drarry for a while now. And I saw this extended scene that they kept out of the movie and it inspired me for this story. I wrote this all very quick, and most of the words are from the actual story and movie. I just wanted to add that scene and some Drarry.

Disclaimer: I most certainly do not own Harry Potter or most of the words that are in this story.

I have substituted words, and the plot is kinda mine. If you've read the book, you've read half this story.

All was quiet on the war front as Voldemort's silencing spell washed over the loud and expressive crowd. Everyone still staring at the motionless dead-like Harry James Potter being held by Rubeus Hagrid, almost ignoring Voldemort altogether. To everyone, Harry was dead. Although Harry felt the furthest thing from dead as his heart pumped blood through his veins. Only he and Narcissa Malfoy knew that he lives. The-Boy-Who-Lived lives once more, due to a mistake on Voldemort's part yet again. That definitely seems like a common occurrence when things go wrong. Narcissa has made him question the whole Malfoy loyalty. She told the Dark Lord he was dead, although she did it for Draco; she still went against her ruler.

Draco.

Harry has questioned his motives for years now, he remembers watching Draco that night on the Astronomy Tower. Harry's heart broke many times that night, but Draco's face caused the most damage. His distraught face as tears fell subtly down his face, only someone who has spent as much time as Harry has studying him would have noticed.

"I haven't gotten any options! I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

Harry knew Draco wasn't going to kill Dumbledore, he was only sixteen years old, and he was shaking holding his wand. He's conflicted. The urge to redeem his father who got on Voldemort's bad side, to get his own father off his back for not being the child he wanted, Harry has noticed the bruises that reside on Draco. Harry notices the emotions Draco tries to conceal. But most of all Harry notices Draco. Plain and simple. Draco is a poor soul, who has to obey, who wants to be accepted, who wants redemption. Draco needs love.

"I can't – I can't be sure."

Even when Harry was presented to Draco, disfigured as he was from Hermione's stinging hex, Harry could tell Draco was fighting a battle inside of himself. He watched emotions dance in Draco's eyes as he was forced down to take a close look at Harry. When he never confirmed that it was Harry, and his friends, Harry understood. Draco cared. Harry knew that emotion because Harry cared. Then after all hell broke loose and he ran towards Draco grabbing his hands with the wands in it, feeling the spark numb his arms as he did so, Harry gave Draco a meaningful caring look. Draco, with subtle tears in his eyes, for the second time, Harry noted, slightly tilted his head declining and with sadness Harry yanked the wands out of Draco's hand and ran back towards his friends shooting one last look at Draco's grieving and astonished face. Harry just stole Draco's wand.

"Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!"

Harry knew Draco was upset, he ran into the Room of Requirement to get his own wand back, with Crabbe and Goyle, but the events that happened Harry knew Draco just wanted his wand back; Harry knew Draco was a good guy. Draco was trying to keep up a front for protection against the horrid Crabbe and Goyle. They shot hexes at Harry and Draco kept yelling at them to stop trying to kill Harry. Draco may have used the Dark Lord's name for a protection towards how he really felt about Harry, but he can still hear the emotions behind the voice, unlike uncultured brain swine as Crabbe and Goyle. Then the idiot Crabbe decided it was a brilliant idea to light the whole place on fire. Harry, of course, wouldn't leave Draco standing on top of a large stack of furniture to die; he flew around towards Draco; much to Ron's displeasure. Harry was able to get Draco onto his broomstick and try really hard to ignore the burning tingling sensation were Draco wrapped his arms around his waist and where Draco was shouting in Harry's ear telling him he is going the wrong way.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, I'm Draco, I'm on your side!"

Draco was on the upper landing, pleading with another masked Death Eater. Harry Stunned the Death Eater as they passed: Draco looked around, beaming, for his savior, and Ron punched him from under the Cloak. Draco fell backward on top of the Death Eater, his mouth bleeding, utterly bemused. Harry then swiftly stepped on Ron's foot and made it look like an accident which made Ron shout profanities at Harry. Harry glanced at Draco who was now sitting up smiling as he heard Ron yelling Harry's name, knowing that Harry saved him a second time.

But now here Harry sat in Hagrid's arms as Voldemort tells everyone that he was dead, killed while he was running away. He heard screams as they broke through the silencing spell, but was waiting for that one voice. Then he heard it:

"NO!"

He felt his heart break again. Draco didn't shout it over everyone else, no one would have given him a second look, but Harry heard it. Harry hears everything Draco says or does.

"You see?" said Voldemort, "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" yelled Ron and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

"Harry Potter is dead, from this day forth; you put your faith in me." Harry heard a little slight laugh, then a happy shout: "Harry Potter is dead!" The Death Eaters laughed and Harry heard Voldemort give a strange laugh towards that. "And now is the time to declare yourself; come forward and join us. Or die."

Silence.

"Draco," it was soft, but Harry heard Lucius try and call Draco over. He opened his eyes a fraction of an inch and noticed Draco trying to fight his father, looking around with that sullen look on his face and he glanced at Harry. "Draco."

"Draco, come." Narcissa spoke tenderly, and Draco once more looked around before wiping his face of the single tear and made his was over towards his parents. Harry slammed his eyes shut once more.

"He was killed," Voldemort continued, "while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds. He is not worth your loyalty!" There was a relish in his voice for the lie, "killed while trying to save himself—"

But Voldemort broke off: Harry heard a scuffle and a shout, then another bang, a flash of light, and a grunt of pain; he opened his eyes an infinitesimal amount. Someone had broken free of the crowd and charged at Voldemort: Harry saw the figure hit the ground, Disarmed, Voldemort throwing the challenger's wand aside and laughing.

"And who is this?" he said in his soft snake's hiss. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Bellatrix gave a delighted laugh.

"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I remember," said Voldemort, looking down at Neville, who was struggling back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, standing in the no-man's-land between the survivors and the Death Eaters. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort asked Neville, who stood facing him, his empty hands curled in fists.

"So what if I am?" said Neville loudly.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," said Neville. "Dumbledore's Army!" he shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd, whom Voldemort's Silencing Charms seemed unable to hold.

"Very well," said Voldemort, and Harry heard more danger in the silkiness of his voice than in the most powerful curse. "If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head," he said quietly, "be it."

Still watching through his lashes, Harry saw Voldemort wave his wand. Seconds later, out of one of the castle's shattered windows, something that looked like a misshapen bird flew through the half-light and landed in Voldemort's hand. He shook the mildewed object by its pointed end and it dangled, empty and ragged: the Sorting Hat.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," said Voldemort. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone one. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"

He pointed his wand at Neville who grew rigid and still, then forced the hat onto Neville's head, so that it slipped down below his eyes. There were movements from the watching crowd in front of the castle, and as one, the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the fighters of Hogwarts at bay.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," said Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, he caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.

Screams split the dawn, and Neville was aflame, rooted to the spot, unable to move, and Harry could not bear it: He must act—

In one swift, fluid motion, Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon him; the flaming hat fell of him and he drew from its depth something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle. With one single stroke Neville sliced off the great snake's head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the entrance hall, and Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake's body thudded to the ground at his feet.

Harry then leapt from Hagrid's arms and onto the ground. Outburst flowed through the crowd once more as Harry ran towards the Hogwarts fighters.

"POTTER!" Harry whirled around at the sound of his voice and saw Draco running towards him shoving his wand into Harry's hand. Narcissa must have noticed Draco's wand when she examined Harry and taken it back to Draco when he crossed over. Harry looked up at Draco then noticed a slight moving behind him—

Harry grabbed Draco's waist and pulled him swiftly behind Harry as Voldemort send out the green lighted curse as Harry yelled, "Protego!" Harry grabbed Draco's hand and ran towards the castle as he saw others protect him from the spells Voldemort was sending towards the two.

Harry pulled Draco along with him down the twisted broken rubble of the hallways of Hogwarts until he was close to the entrance to the Great Hall, but far enough so no on looker could notice the two. Harry looked around the corner to notice the fight being taking into the Great Hall, then turned around to look at Draco who was looking at him like a lost child, both scared and happy. Draco pulled Harry into a hug and buried his face into the crook of Harry's neck.

"Thank you." Harry whispered to Draco, who just saved his life, just like back at Malfoy Manor, except this time he was able to thank Draco. He wrapped his arms around the blonde male seeming to forget the war that is going on.

"I should be thanking you, Harry." Draco said letting go of him, Harry let chills run down his spine from Draco saying is first name. "You saved my life twice, just today, all I did was give you my bloody wand."

"By giving me your wand, you just won us the war." Harry said resting his hand on Draco's cheek. Grey eyes met green and Harry pulled Draco towards him and kissed him.

Their lips moved together, as fireworks played in Harry's mind. His other hand, that wasn't on Draco's cheek, grabbed his waist as Draco's arms circles Harry's neck. They both tilted their heads to get better access and then their tongues met. They both could feel the electricity emitting off the other boy and Harry pulled Draco tighter against him. A very loud scream snapped them both out of their daze as they let go of each other.

Harry frantically searched his person for the Cloak. He grabbed it and shoved it at Draco.

"Stay hidden, please, you don't have a wand." Draco nodded and Harry kissed him quickly. "I have to go, please stay hidden." Then took off running towards the Great Hall, he felt Draco behind him, but no one could see him. His eyes scanned for Voldemort when he saw Bellatrix shoot the Killing Curse just inches away from Ginny's face. He ran at Bellatrix but was knocked sideways and bumped into an invisible force which had to be Draco.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

Mrs. Weasley threw off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms. Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of her new challenger.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" shouted Mrs. Weasley to the three girls, and with a swipe of her wand she began to duel. Harry watched with terror and elation as Molly Weasley's wand slashed and twirled, and Bellatrix Lestrange's smile flattered and became a snarl. Jets of light few from both wands, the floor around the witches' feet became hot and cracked; both women were fighting to kill.

"No!" Mrs. Weasley cried as a few students ran forward, trying to come to her aid. "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"

Hundreds of people now lined the walls, watching the walls, watching. Harry glanced over and saw Voldemort fighting with McGonagall, Kingsley and Slughorn all at once. Harry stood, torn between both, wanting to attack and yet to protect, unable to be sure that he would not hit the innocent.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" taunted Bellatrix, as mad as her master, capering as Molly's curses danced around her. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

"You — will — never — touch — our — children — again!" screamed Mrs. Weasley.

Bellatrix laughed, the same exhilarated laugh her cousin Sirius had given as he toppled backward through the veil, and suddenly Harry knew what was going to happen before it did.

Molly's cure soared beneath Bellatrix's outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart.

Bellatrix's gloating smile froze, her eyes seemed to bulge: For the tiniest space of time she knew what happened, and then she toppled, and the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed. Harry heard Draco give a gasp, after all Bellatrix was his Aunt, he just watched her die. Harry felt as though he turned in slow motion; he saw McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn blasted backward, flailing and withering through the air, as Voldemort's fury at the fall of his last, best lieutenant exploded with the force of a bomb. Voldemort raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley.

"Protego!" roared Harry, and the Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall, and Voldemort stared around for the source.

The crowd was afraid, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry said loudly, and in total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Voldemort hissed.

"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wide. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcurxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good. . . ."

"One of us?" jeered Voldemort, and his whole body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" asked Harry. They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for Harry no face existed but Voldemort's. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"

"Accidents!" screamed Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and the watching crowd was frozen as if Petrified, and of the hundreds in the Hall, nobody seemed to breathe but they two. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," said Harry as they circled, and stared into each other's eyes, green into red. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people –"

"But you did not!"

"—But I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

"You dare—"

"Yes, I dare," said Harry. "I know things you don't now, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

Voldemort did not speak, but prowled in a circle, and Harry knew that he kept him temporarily mesmerized and at bay, held back by the faintest possibility that Harry might indeed know a final secret. . . .

"Is it love again?" said Voldemort, his snake's face jeering. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter – and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you from dying now when I strike?"

"Just one thing," said Harry, and still they circled each other, wrapped in each other, held apart by nothing but the last secret.

"If it is not love that will save you this time," said Voldemort, "you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both," said Harry, and he saw shock flit across the snakelike face, though it was instantly dispelled; Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening then his screams; humorless and insane, it echoes around the silent Hall.

"You think you know more magic than I do?" he said. "Then I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it," said Harry, "but he knew more than you, knew enough to not to do what you've done."

"You mean he was weak!" screamed Voldemort. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No, he was cleverer than you," said Harry, "a better wizard, a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"

"You thought you did," said Harry, "but you were wrong."

For the first time, the watching crowd stirred as the hundreds of people around the walls drew breath as one.

"Dumbledore is dead!" Voldemort hurled the words at Harry as though they would case him unendurable pain. "His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"

"Yes, Dumbledore's dead," said Harry calmly, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

"What childish dream is this?" said Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and his red eyes did not waver from Harry's.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours," said Harry. "Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Voldemort did not answer. They continued to circle each other like wolves about to tear each other apart.

"Snape's Patronus was a doe," said Harry, "the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized," he said as he saw Voldemort's nostrils flare, "he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

"He desired her, that was all," sneered Voldemort, "but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him –"

"Of course he told you that," said Harry, "but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"

"It matters not!" shrieked Voldemort, who had followed every work with rapt attention, but now let out a crackle of mad laughter. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!

"Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy – I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, it did," said Harry. "You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done. . . . Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle. . . ."

"What is this?"

Of all the things that Harry had said to him, beyond any relation or taunt, nothing had shocked Voldemort like this. Harry saw his pupils contract into thin slits, saw the skin around his eyes whiten.

"It's your one last chance," said Harry, "it's all you've got left. . . . I've seen what you'll be otherwise. . . .Be a man . . . try . . . Try for some remorse. . . ."

"You dare-?" said Voldemort again.

"Yes, I dare," said Harry, "because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle."

Voldemort's hand was trembling on the Elder Wand, and Harry gripped Draco's very tightly. The moment, he knew, was seconds away.

"That wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

"He killed –"

"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard. . . . The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance. . . ."

Voldemort's chest rose and fell rapidly, and Harry could feel the curse coming, feel it building inside the wand pointed at his face.

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

Blank shock showed in Voldemort's face for a moment, but then it was gone.

"But what does it matter?" he said softly. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone . . . and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy. . . ."

"But you're too late," said Harry. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took his wand from him."

Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, and he felt the eyes of everyone in the Hall upon it.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does . . . I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky about them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort's was suddenly a flaming blur. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he too yelled his best hope to the heaves, pointing Draco's wand:

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The band was like a cannon blast and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Harry saw Voldemort's green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it as last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his fee hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watcher rent the air. Harry felt a crash with his side and turned to see Draco Malfoy, who pulled off the cloak, and grab Harry in a bone crushing hug. The cheers died down when they noticed that Harry wasn't alone in the middle of the Great Hall, and the two teen boys ignored everyone else as they again sealed their love with a kiss.

When they pulled away they looked to the sound of silence as everyone had very shocked and amused faces on, and they caught glimpse of the Malfoy's, standing in the front of the crowd, mouths wide in shock, gaping at the scene they just witnessed and then Lucius Malfoy fainted.

Was it okay? Please tell me what you think.