Title: Broken Dreams
Author: dragonflyblue
Summary: One Shot. During war nothing is sacred. Dreams are broken, people too. If only life ended in happily ever after.
Rating: M – to be on the safe side, could be a T.

Warning: AU (after OP) and Character Death

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, unfortunately. Everything belongs to the wonderfully talented JK Rowling.

If it wasn't for the pain in his broken arm, Draco wouldn't have believed what was happening around him.

Death Eaters had swarmed the school, breaking through the most powerful wards the wizarding world could provide Hogwarts; the only place, in the midst of war, where hope was nurtured. But now the front doors lay in ruins, a majority of the faculty was either dead or taking their last breaths, and the students were huddled in fear in the Great Hall.

Although he wouldn't admit it out loud, Draco was glad that the Golden Trio was nowhere to be seen. That could mean only one of two things, either they had eluded capture in the frightening first minutes of the attack, or, well he didn't really want to think about the second option.

"Draco." Looking up into his father's eyes from his position on the floor, Draco was sure his eyes would betray his thoughts. "Come with me."

His father's tone brook no argument, and he know he had no choice but to obey.

"Yes, father," came his reply.

Lucius led Draco silentlythrough the halls of Hogwarts. As they passed through the entrance hall the bodies of the students surprised after dinner littered their path. Draco felt queasy at seeing all the carnage. The pain in his arm was surely not helping any.

Lucius took Draco to first to the infirmary. Here he found that, of the staff, at least Madam Pomfrey had survived.

As Madam Pomfrey was fixing his arm, Draco received a rather upbeat appraisal of the current situation from his father. "Dumbledore is dead; Snape killed him and crushed the paperweight he was using to anchor the castle's wards. That's how we were able to take Hogwarts so quickly."

"Obviously we had a few losses, but no one of any importance. As you saw on the way here we killed, maybe, ten for every one of us who was killed. But our greatest prize is that we now hold the children of our enemies captive. Just imagine how this will cripple Dumbledore's foolish followers; knowing we will kill their children without a thought."

His father had a point. No matter how this day ended, the attack on Hogwarts was going to have repercussions throughout the ranks fighting for the Light.

Madam Pomfrey finished her ministrations on Draco's arm and pronounced him healed. Lucius, dismissing her, turned to his son and said, "Come, there is still work to be done."

Draco found himself standing outside the Headmaster's office before he even realized where he was being led.

"Revel" came the password from his father. Apparently the Dark Lord's taste in passwords weren't along the same lines as Dumbledore's.

"After you, Draco."

Stepping onto the moving stairwell Draco took a moment to steel himself for whatever lay on the other side of the Headmaster's door. Once through the door he wished he was back in the Great Hall nursing his broken arm.

Where the Headmaster's desk once stood, there was now what could only be termed a throne and on that throne sat the Dark Lord, smug with satisfaction looking over the motley crew assembled before him. Lining the walls were his Death Eaters, their crisp black robes and white masks belying the battle they had just endured. In the center of the room stood a group of weary individuals. Draco could just make out Neville Longbottom, Professor McGonagall, and several other students in the low torch light.

"Ah, Draco, Lucius, so kind of you to join us," said a sinister voice from the front of the room.

Turning to see the Potion's Master, Draco was overwhelmed by the knowledge that he would most likely play a part in whatever was to come next.

"Yes, Lucius do bring your son closer."

"Of course, my Lord."

As he was pushed toward the front of the room Draco's eyes caught sight of the one thing he wished he hadn't. Hermione. She was here, herded together with the students and professors in the middle of the room.

His Gryffindor princess was battered, she had at least one black eye and a gash along her temple, but, even in the low light, he could see that her fire hadn't dimmed.

"Draco," began Voldemort, "I see you made it through the initial skirmishes relatively unharmed. That is good. I have a task for you."

Oh, no. No good could come of this Draco was sure.

"Draco, on this night you will be honored along side all my followers by initiation into my Death Eaters. Bring the girl here," Voldemort commanded one of his Death Eaters. "In the past initiation ceremonies required the initiate to stalk and kill one of our many enemies, but with such a ready supply here at our mercy, why bother with the hunt."

Draco couldn't help but feel the lurch in his stomach. He couldn't, he wouldn't. He didn't care what they did to him, but he wouldn't harm a single hair on his lioness's head.

"This is a great opportunity for you, Draco. With Potter dead, there is no hope now for our enemies," his father whispered, handing him a wand. "I know you will bring honor to the Malfoy family name."

So Potter was dead.

Holding the wand in his hand Draco could see every frivolous dream he had allowed himself over the past four months pass in front of his eyes. He could see his future, their future, together. He could see the children he had hoped would grow up in security and love. He could see a world without the darkness that had pervaded his short life. And it was all crumbling around him.

Seeing Hermione standing in front of him, full of Gryffindor courage, boldly facing her fate at the hands of her lover, Draco thought of the path that had led him here. The nights of unadulterated passion, bodies coming together in complete abandon and lust, and love, above all he remembered love. It was this that gave him the resolve to do what he knew he must.

Taking a moment, Draco drew a deep breath. With all his will and power he shouted "Avada Kedavra," pointing his wand at the source of all his discontent. Voldemort did not see the curse flying at him. His Death Eaters immediately took action. Several shouts of the killing curse could be heard around the room at least two hitting their marks.

Draco died with a smirk on his lips, his Gryffindor lioness joining him in the peaceful sleep of the dead. If they couldn't be together in this life, there was always the next.

Authors Notes: I hope you enjoyed this. It is my first fic so please leave me feedback!