A Fatal Meeting
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It was seventh year.
Well, it was supposed to be seventh year. Harry, Ron and Hermione hadn't gone back to Hogwarts, and despite desperate pleading and outright demands from Mrs. Weasley, they'd gone Horcrux hunting instead.
Harry was surprised at how successful they'd been. He'd found the locket almost immediately. It had been the only time he'd been happy about owning Kreacher.
Hufflepuff's Cup came next, followed by a solid gold inkwell owned by Rowena Ravenclaw, and all Harry had to worry about now were Nagini and Voldemort himself.
This state of affairs suited him nicely, as it afforded him an excuse to leave Ron and Hermione behind at the Burrow and strike out on his own. He'd been uneasy about their coming with him from the start, however grateful he'd been for their loyalty, and had out-and-out refused their company this time around.
He couldn't let them die too, not after all that had happened last year, with Snape and Malfoy and Dumbledore… He couldn't wait to see Snape again. He wanted to show that bastard his new Occlumency skills. To see the look on his face, right before the light left his eyes.
Malfoy. He didn't know what to think about him. Hadn't Dumbledore offered him protection? Hadn't Malfoy lowered his wand, even just a little bit?
Harry couldn't help but think that, given more time, Malfoy would have agreed. He'd seen Malfoy crying in the loo. He'd heard what Dumbledore had said, and how Malfoy had responded. He was in it for his family. To protect his mother.
Harry could only dream of having a cause like that.
So when Harry found Voldemort's base of operations, confronted the not-quite-man, he did so secure in the knowledge that he'd just killed Nagini, had every intention of killing Snape, and was entirely unsure of what to do about Malfoy.
Malfoy.
There he was, standing off to the side, robed, but conspicuously unmasked. He was staring hard at Harry, and seemed agitated.
But right now, his focus had to be on Voldemort. Especially as the Dark Lord had just recovered from seeing Harry waltz so calmly into his chambers, and was ready to begin his last stand.
Of course, he didn't know it was his last stand.
Harry dueled with the Dark Lord, for the second (third? Harry could never keep track of that sort of thing) time in his short life, cursing and shielding and hexing, none of it child's play. This wasn't some mock duel in the DA. This was serious. The real thing.
They paused; a breather. Voldemort seemed pensive. Perhaps he realized that he'd been underestimating his opponent. There was a smug undertone to that thought that Harry immediately quashed. Smugness was fatal, as Sirius had so kindly taught him.
"Draco."
Malfoy started at the sound of his name coming from the Dark Lord. "Yes, my Lord?"
"You went to school with Potter, did you not?"
Harry watched silently, wand at the ready, wondering what the hell was going on.
"Yes, my Lord, I did."
"If I recall, your father told me once that you were something of rivals."
Malfoy winced at this, almost imperceptibly. Harry remembered, vaguely, a mention in the newspapers of Lucius Malfoy's body being found dead in Azkaban. They'd thought at the time that it had been a setup, that Malfoy senior had escaped and left some polyjuiced sap in his place. But perhaps not.
"Y-yes, my Lord."
"Would you like a parting shot before I destroy him?"
He was surprised to see Malfoy wince again. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. Harry steadied his hand. Destroy, he'd said. Not kill. Destroy. What a pleasant idea, Harry thought sardonically.
Malfoy faced Harry, raising his wand. Harry couldn't help but stare. He'd known Malfoy for years, faced off with him almost every day. He knew Malfoy better than he knew anyone at Hogwarts, aside from Ron and Hermione.
Malfoy didn't look up to it. He looked as though he'd rather be doing anything else. He was hiding it quite well, but he couldn't hide it from Harry, not after all those years. The look in his eyes, the one that said Harry wasn't going to enjoy this, but oh, how Malfoy would…it just wasn't there.
"Imperio."
He wasn't ready for the spell, half-positive that Malfoy wasn't even going to cast at all. Then again, he really didn't need to be ready to throw this one off. It would just take a second longer.
"Nagini wasn't the last Horcrux…"
What?
"I saw you kill her, I demand that you believe me. Do it. She wasn't the last Horcrux. There's one more."
Harry was hearing this, in his mind. The Imperius Curse was allowing Malfoy to speak directly into his mind, and this was the last thing Harry had expected to hear.
"I have it."
Nevermind. That was the last thing Harry had expected to hear.
"I swear it. Come here and I'll give it to you. It's a neck-clasp. Red and gold."
Something of Gryffindor's. Dumbledore had said Voldemort would want something of all the founders. Harry, Ron and Hermione had just assumed he'd not gotten that far when he'd tried to kill Harry. If Malfoy had it…if Malfoy was willing to give it to him…
Harry carefully kept his eyes blank, and began walking mechanically toward Malfoy.
Voldemort stared at them. "What is going on here?" he demanded in his high, cruel voice. "I have never been able to successfully use that on him!"
Malfoy kept his wand trained on Harry, and said, without breaking eye contact, "It's harder to resist if he wants to do what you command."
Voldemort considered this. "And what are you commanding of him?"
Harry was standing directly in front of Malfoy, still not entirely sure that this wasn't a trick, hoping to any god that would listen that Malfoy was sincere.
Malfoy stepped closer. Their bodies were nearly touching. He slipped a hand into his robes and took Harry's hand, pressing an object into his palm.
The clasp. Harry fought to keep his face blank as he reached into his own pocket. He had a vial of basilisk venom in there, some of which he'd used to be completely sure of Nagini's demise. He'd used it on all the other Horcruxes. He knew what to do now.
"Potter's always had a sort of…obsession with me," Malfoy said clinically, keeping eye contact as Harry maneuvered the vial in his pocket.
"Has he now?" Harry thought Voldemort might have sounded amused.
"Yes," Malfoy said, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from Harry's face. Harry paused for a fraction of a second, wondering what game Malfoy was playing. Hopefully it was called, 'Buy Harry More Time'.
"Well then, carry on," Voldemort said. He definitely sounded amused now.
Malfoy nodded distractedly. "Yes, my Lord."
"Can you destroy it?"
Harry stared into Malfoy's eyes, trying to relay that, yes, he was destroying it, as they spoke (thought?) it was disintegrating, and taking much of the inner lining of Harry's pocket with it.
"Now kiss me."
Harry nearly broke character. What!
Malfoy must have sensed his shock, because words were quickly finding their way into his mind.
"He expects it. If I said all that, and don't make you do more than stand and stare at me, he's not going to buy it."
Harry didn't really want to kiss Malfoy. But he hadn't shaken off the Imperius Curse, and as he stared into Malfoy's eyes, the idea began to seem more and more appealing…
And it would go a long way toward saving both of their lives, after all.
Harry stepped closer to Malfoy, closing the gap between them. He kept his arms carefully at his sides as he leaned in and pressed his lips against those of his former enemy.
It was amazing.
He certainly hadn't expected it to feel this good. Just like he hadn't expected to forget about the fact that Voldemort was standing not thirty feet away, vulnerable and ready for Harry to kill him.
Just like he hadn't expected the Imperius to drop the second their lips touched, making it entirely clear that he was choosing to do this, to kiss Malfoy in the middle of a crowd of inner circle Death Eaters, not to mention Voldemort himself.
Voldemort…Voldemort…he was supposed to be doing something with Voldemort. But it was hard to think when Malfoy's soft lips were moving against his, making him feel like all his problems were but distant memories, and not standing thirty feet away, tapping his foot impatiently.
Malfoy broke the kiss after a fashion, pulling back and looking at Harry with his red lips and flushed cheeks. Harry wanted to kiss him again, oddly enough.
Unfortunately, the problem took that moment to remind all those present that he was supposed to be the main attraction here.
"Crucio!"
Malfoy fell down, screaming in pain. Harry stared down at him, the pleasant daze sluicing off of him like cold water.
"Did you think I would fall for such a thing, Malfoy?" Voldemort asked coolly. "He has had an obsession with you? Are you sure it wasn't reciprocated?"
Harry lifted his wand and pointed it at Voldemort, who was glaring down at Malfoy with no small amount of fury on his face. The curse was still active, and Malfoy's screams were ringing in Harry's ears.
"It makes me wonder, Malfoy, what exactly you are doing in my inner circle with these feelings of yours for Potter."
Harry took a deep breath. He could do this. He had to do this. It was the only hope they had. None of the Death Eaters standing around seemed very eager to stop him, some watching avidly as Voldemort tortured Malfoy, some sizing Harry up, as though wondering if he would actually do it.
"You have no more Horcruxes, Tom," Harry said softly. Voldemort heard it, even over Malfoy's cries of pain, and the torture stopped.
"Excuse me?" he asked disdainfully.
"Your Horcruxes. I've destroyed all six of them. The diary, the locket, the ring, the inkwell, the cup, and Nagini. All that's left is you."
Voldemort stared at him, a small smile playing around his gruesome lips.
"Is that so, Potter? You've beaten me then?"
"Yes," Harry said quietly. "This is it."
"Take your best shot, then, Potter." Voldemort spread his arms wide, wand held loosely in his right hand. "If you've gone to all that work, far be it from me to stand in your way." He smiled cruelly. "But if you're wrong, I must warn you, this body won't disintegrate like my last. This one is much…stronger. And if you get a free shot, I daresay it's only fair that I get one as well."
Harry took another deep breath, so, so happy that Malfoy had been here tonight, and said, "Fine, deal."
Voldemort nodded cordially and waited for the spell. Harry happily obliged him.
"Avada Kedavra."
Voldemort crumpled to the ground, dead.
The last emotion registered on his face was smugness. He'd not realized what Harry had done until, well, until he was dead.
Sirius had warned Harry, posthumously, that smugness was fatal.
Apparently no one had taught Voldemort that lesson.
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A/N: Okay, so I'm thinking this might produce another one shot, if the feedback is good. What do you think? Did you like it? Did it work?
