Harry wasn't the world's greatest cousin, no, but he was the only one I had. He was my cousin. And if anyone was going to kill him, it should have been me.

I thought this as his stupid wizard friends sniffled and whimpered in the front room of my parents' house.

"You should probably leave," one of them, a puckered looking old witch, advised. "It's dangerous for you here."

I watched as my dad blustered angrily about a man's home being his castle, my mum clinging to his arm and wailing. I closed my eyes; I'd seen it all before. I waited for the noise to die down, for the wizards to browbeat my dad sufficiently.

Finally, a lull.

"I want to help you," I said. "I can fight; I got into the Olympic reserve team for boxing."

All eyes were on me. Puckered old witch, those ginger kids, even the witch with the frizzy brown hair. They looked incredulous.

"I have a right, don't I?" I asked.

"He's a muggle," someone said, a tired-looking man in paisley robes. A few of the others glared at him.

"He's Potter's cousin," countered the scrawny blond wizard from the corner by the door. "Why not let him?"

"Draco Malfoy!" the puckered old witch snapped. "Of all the times to-"

"What're you going to do? Protect him? Like you protected my mother?" Malfoy interrupted, his voice bitter. "Like you protected Potter? Or Longbottom? Let him die how he wants."

There was an uncomfortable silence, everyone looking at everyone else, and my mum gave a wail of despair. My dad patted her shoulders consolingly, scowling at me.

The witch with the wild brown hair made a face like she had eaten a lemon. "I agree with Malfoy," she said.

"Hey!" One of the ginger wizards gave her a hurt look. "You can't be serious! I mean, that's Harry's cousin Dudley," he waved his arms meaningfully. "And Draco Malfoy."

The girl gave him a sideways, scornful look. "I don't know if you'd noticed, Ron, but there aren't exactly many people left who are prepared to fight..." she paused. "The dark Lord."

"Well, I'm glad one of us sees sense," drawled the blond.

The girl stiffened. "Shut up, Malfoy."

And then we were four.

"You can't be serious. Without Harry we can't fulfill the prophecy."

"Harry-"

"He's dead, 'Mione."

"And that means we should stop? We can't stop, Ron."

I sighed and pulled a blanket up over my head. Granger and Weasley were arguing again. In the darkness I could make out Malfoy , tip of his wand glowing softly as he went through a routine. I had no magic myself, but I knew enough to recognise his spells now. Expelliarmus. Fuego. Serpico. The trick was to disable the wand arm; most wizards, I'd found, had good proficiency with counterspells but no idea what to do in a pin or a pain hold.

Malfoy paused his routine, looking at me.

"Can't sleep, muggle?"

"Piss off, you inbred little weasel." I said.

"My father will hear of this," said Malfoy. He laughed, bleakly.

From the next room was the sound of a cup breaking.

"Honestly, I wish they would just bang," I said.

Malfoy shook his head. "I think we're a bit beyond that," he said. "He wants to go back to his family, but Granger, Granger's got nothing left."

"Like us."

More broken china. A hex hit the doorframe, red and fierce.

Illuminated by the spell's light, Malfoy's eyes were blank, his lips set in a grim line.

"Yeah," he said. "Like us."

And then there were three.

I think I preferred it when they were arguing all the time, honestly. Without him, we had to listen to Granger sniffling into her pillow as we kept watch.

"A shame you're a muggle," Malfoy lamented. "Then maybe I could actually get some sleep."

I chucked a rock at him for that, which he deflected with his wand.

It was his arm, in the end, that helped us find the Dark Lord. Branded with the death-eater's mark, it burned him occasionally, intended to summon him to the Dark Lord's side.

Granger said something about reverse divination and arithmancy that I didn't understand and Malfoy pretended to understand, but the upshot of that was, we knew where he was.

A ruin of a castle in the woods, up near Nottingham. We teleported (the wizards call it Apparition, but seriously it's teleportation) nearby, close enough to see it, looming low in the mist. I was struck by an immediate feeling of terror and not-wanting-to-be-there. I swallowed.

"Uh," I said. "Guys?"

Granger swore under her breath. "Dementors."

"Wait," I said. "They can see through the invisibility cloak?"

I heard Granger's sigh from beside me.

"Can you deal with them?" Malfoy asked.

She nodded. "Think so."

It had been years since Harry had saved me from the dementors, but they still scared the hell out of me. I examined this growing feeling of dread as we sneaked closer to the castle under the cover of my dead cousin's cloak. Granger and Malfoy had their wands, and I was armed too, with a knife, and a length of cheesewire, and a shotgun we had stolen from a farmstead back in Kent. A real action hero, me. Not much help against dementors, though.

The others seemed to see something in the mist, and Granger brandished her wand.

"Expecto patronu-" she choked, a thin wisp of silver smoke dribbling from her wand. She swallowed. "Expecto-" she trailed off. "No," she whispered, voice cracking. "Not Harry."

We watched her tear away the cloak and flee into the woods, the Dementors still converging on us. I could feel their effect on me already. Next to me, Malfoy was shaking, paralysed with fear.

"Hey," I said. "Other wizard."

When he didn't reply, I punched him in the arm.

He gave an indignant squeak. "My father will-" he started, and blinked, coming to his senses.

"Do the spell," I said.

"You don't get to-"

"DO IT!" I yelled, feeling the vein at my temple swell.

Malfoy gave me an aggrieved look, but readied his wand. "Expecto patronus!" he said. Silver smoke shot out of his wand, and the dementors seemed to pause. "Alright," he said, his face extra white as he snatched up the cloak. "Let's go!"

We ran, then, the dementors chasing us. It didn't take us long to figure out that we were trapped; a high earth bank at our backs and dementors surrounding us. I still couldn't see them, not really, but there were more of them now, their slow, rattling breath audible in the still night air.

I felt the dread rise in my chest again, felt myself fall to my knees as I heard my mum wailing, my dad shouting. A man's home is his castle.

And then, silence.

I looked up and saw Malfoy stood over me, his hands shaking as my terror faded before a woman made of silver mist.

"Get up, muggle," he said glumly. "We've got to find Granger. Honestly, you're as bad as Potter was."

I shook my head. "No," I said. "Harry was never afraid of those things."

Malfoy snorted and said nothing.

"So who was she?"

"Who was who?" Malfoy looked annoyed.

"The white ghosty chick."

The muscle in Malfoy's jaw twitched. "My mother." he said, not meeting my eyes.

"Wow," I said. "That's pretty-"

"Don't." said Malfoy. "Just don't."

The frosty leaves crunched under our feet as we walked.

Ducking under some ivy, we entered a clearing, face to face with a thin man in black robes. A death eater.

"Let me handle this," hissed Malfoy, stepping forward.

The death eater lowered his wand. "Malfoy?"

"Lestrange," Malfoy sneered. "I have returned. And I have brought Potter's cousin with me, as a gift."

I felt a chill. It was a trick, surely. Malfoy liked to preen and pose like a git, but he wasn't a bad guy, was he? I sidled away from Malfoy. Lestrange looked me over before turning back to the wizard. "You think this'll win you His favour?" He laughed, raising his wand again.

His back was to me. I charged.

He twisted as I tackled him to the ground, and a hex hit my chest, the pain hot and sharp. I grabbed his wand arm and punched his face. One of the first things I learned when I was learning to fight; someone who has never been punched in the face never expects to be punched in the face. It's hardly difficult stuff, I know, but then I never was the genius my mum wanted me to be.

Most wizards, it turns out, have never been punched in the face.

Lestrange roared with fury, blood pouring from his nose, sparks pouring from his wand. I got him in a pin; my knees on his chest, twisting his arms until he let go of the wand. If he could use magic, then I was a dead man. He struggled as I crushed his windpipe, but was finally still.

The red haze cleared, and I looked up to see another black-robed wizard standing over me, his skull-snake tattoo dark on his arm. My wizard buddy Malfoy was nowhere to be seen- probably had the sense to run away.

"Well I never," said the second death eater. "Rudolphus Lestrange, ended by a muggle." He looked down at me, wand idly swishing in his hand. "Can't say that it's not a fair comeuppance, I suppose." He smiled at me, a slow, strange smile. "Are you going to try for me, too?"

I stood, slowly, wiping my hands on my trousers. He wasn't afraid of me, I realised. Didn't see me as a threat. And as long as I amused him, he wouldn't kill me.

"Actually," I said. "I was planning on killing the Dark Lord next. If you show me the way, I'll spare your life."

"Oh, really," said the death eater, still smiling. "In that case, the dark lord is in that direction." He gestured to the castle.

"Thanks," I said, stepping backwards, and nearly tripping on something. Malfoy, I realised. He was still here, under the invisibility cloak. But the moment I turned my back on the second death eater, he would kill me. I hesitated, swallowing.

And Granger charged into the clearing, hair wild and filled with leaves. "Dudley-" she said.

The death eater turned, wand out.

"Avada kedavra."

There was a flash of green light, and a sound like the world cracking in two.

And then there were two.

I grabbed the invisible Malfoy by the shoulder. "Run!"

"Where?" A curse zipped past us with a streak of blue fire and set a tree ablaze.

"Inside!" I yelled.

We ran.

The gates of the ruined castle hung open, iron twisted and melted, now covered in a fine frost. We stopped there, and covered the both of us with the cloak again, gasping for breath and shivering.

"You can't... whatchamacallit... Apparate here, can you?"

"No," Malfoy breathed out through his nose. "Wards."

We continued on, through a ruined front door, into a ruined hall. It had been in use recently, I realised, looking at the burnt wreckage of furniture. I headed for one of the staircases, but Malfoy pulled me to one side.

"This way," he whispered.

I followed, my hand on his shoulder.

He led me down, into the basement of the castle, where torches guttered on the walls. There had been paintings here, but now they hung in tatters, defaced. Pretty spooky.

I heard footsteps, and felt Malfoy freeze beside me.

"More death eaters," he whispered, and he pulled me through a door. We held our breath as the footsteps passed us, and when they had gone, I let out a sigh of relief.

It was then that I heard the hissing.

I don't know why, but I have never liked snakes. My mum says- she used to say- it's because a python attacked me at the zoo one time, but I think it's more basic than that. Like, I just happen to hate snakes.

There was a big snake in the room, tasting the air with its tongue. Still under the cloak, we froze. It slithered closer, its tongue flickering in and out of its mouth.

Too late I felt Malfoy go for his wand.

"Wingardium-" he started.

The snake struck him through the cloak, and I heard him scream.

Swearing, I pulled off the cloak and grabbed the snake by the head. It twisted, wrapping itself around me. I tensed, stopping it from crushing me, and wishing I had thought of the shotgun before it was too late. I felt the invisible Malfoy pull away, and punched the stupid snake in its stupid snake face. It tightened its grip, constricting me.

"Malfoy," I gasped. "Little help here?"

There was a whimper of pain, and I saw Malfoy's bloody arm emerge from under the cloak. "Confringo!" he screamed.

There was a rush of heat, and the big snake's head burst into flames. I screamed, and pushed it away, my arms burnt.

It took the big snake a few moments to die, writhing headlessly on the floor.

I went to Malfoy, pushing the cloak off with my foot.

He looked up at me, paler than usual, shirt crimson with blood. "You know," he said, grimacing with pain. "If you had been to Hogwarts, you would have been a Gryffindor for sure."

"Thanks Malfoy," I said.

"I didn't," he said. "Mean that as a compliment."

And then there was one.

I kicked the snake to make sure it was dead, and sat down next to Malfoy's body, pulling the invisibility cloak over me. It felt dry in my hands, his blood sluicing off it in droplets. I wondered if that was a design feature, if whatever wizard had made it had gone "you know, it would be great if I didn't get blood on me after I murdered people". Sounds about standard for wizards, really.

I could hear raised voices from deeper in the castle; killing the snake had set off some sort of alarm. And now it was just me, the muggle. I pried the wand from Malfoy's hand and waved it speculatively. Nothing. No sparks, not even a squeak. Still a muggle. I shoved it in my pocket.

It was, I thought, as I reached into my pack and pulled out the shotgun, the one thing that my cousin had always had over me. He could turn mice into teacups.

Under the invisibility cloak I loaded a shell, my hands shaking. Now I could turn wizards into deader, holier wizards.

It wasn't much, but it was something.

"Forward, you fools," a thin, high-pitched voice intoned. "Find them!"

My gun held level under the cloak, I stepped to one side of the door as two of the dark-robed wizards barged in.

"It's the Malfoy boy," said the first, leaning over to inspect the body. He frowned. "He's got no-"

BAM. I shot his friend in the head from point blank, cursing silently as I reloaded. I shouldn't have taken the wand.

"What the-" the crouching wizard turned. BAM.

From down the corridor I could hear running, and I slipped from the room as the dark wizards surrounded it.

Where to now? Every sensible part of me screamed to run, but there wasn't too much room for sensible left.

I headed the way the wizards had come from.

At the end of the hallway was a flight of stairs, and at the top of the stairs a door, hanging from its hinges. In the gloom beyond was what must once have been a richly appointed sitting room, with thick carpet and velvet chairs, a fire dying in the grate. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realised that there was someone staring back at me. A thin, robed figure, with startling green eyes.

"Expelliarmus!"

I went flying back, my gun clattering uselessly down the stairs behind me.

A thin, robed figure with startling green eyes.

I knew those eyes. I'd known those eyes since before I could walk. Glaring at me. Mocking me. Pleading with me. He could see through the cloak.

"Harry," I choked.

The figure's thin, mouth twisted into a smile. "Yes," it said, its voice higher than Harry's, thin and nasal. "And also no. The boy who lived, the boy who died. One and the same, I'm afraid. Hello, Dudley Dursely. And thank you for the gift. I wondered where the cloak had got to."

I rolled to one side, and a curse struck the floor where I had been. The cloak slid off me like grease. This was bad.

The Dark Lord looked at me, impassive. "This would be much easier for us both if you would just stay still," he hissed. "Though it won't be long, either way."

Panting, I pulled myself to my feet. "Then you'll give me a few moments," I said. "For family's sake." I reached into my pocket and pulled out Malfoy's wand.

Voldemort stared at me. "Impossible," he said. "You have no trace of magic in your blood."

"That," I said, brandishing the wand defensively, as I had seen Granger do. "Is what my mum wanted everyone to think. Do you really think I could have made it all this way with no magic?"

I taunted him, as I had once taunted Harry, and he eyed me warily. Good.

"Fuego!" I yelled as I charged him.

His wand flicked lazily, counterspelling a hex that I had never cast.

Arrogant git.

I jumped him and jammed Malfoy's wand into his eye.

Voldemort screamed, and I heard Harry scream too.

He began to struggle.

But I had spent my childhood training for this fight.

I had always been bigger than Harry, stronger than him. The only way he could escape me was to wriggle out. His possession by the dark lord had not changed his physique much, and now I had years of boxing, wrestling and MMA training on him to boot. I knew his weak wrist, where I had broken it and mum had refused to take him to the hospital.

I pinned his arms, forcing him face down on the floor, grinding the bones in his wrist until he released his grip on his long, dark wand. Malfoy's wand crackled and sparked in his ruined eye socket and he screamed again, like a train whistle. Ichor stained the floor.

He was, I realised, dying.

"Hey cuz," I said. "Are you in there?"

He twitched under my weight. "Piss off, Dudley."

There was a smell like expired pork burning and it was over.