13 September, 1999

This is the end

Three and a half years ago:

"Build your walls Draco. An impenetrable fortress." Snape drawled. Draco staggered as once again his old professor forced himself into his mind. He clenched his eyes.

"Draco this is necessary. What if you're ever captured, what if those disgusting mudbloods and blood traitors infiltrate your mind and steal your secrets? Are you going to let them get the better of you? Are you going to let them come and kill your family?" His father said. He opened his eyes and looked at the proud man in front of him and nodded.

"Again." Draco demanded. He felt the violation once again.

She was supposed to be the brightest witch of her age, and yet there she stood. He shook his head at the defiance in her eyes; she was standing on the edge of a cliff, the water below her and five death eaters in front of her. He cringed at Dolohov's cackling. She was sacrificing herself, calling attention to herself and then dashing away from the muggle town they had been ransacking.

He wondered at the fact that he wasn't happy. He was smiling, but he hadn't felt this empty in a while. The Dark Lord would use her, would violate the mudblood in front of him. He would take her knowledge and the war would be over and the death eaters would win. He should be happy.

Two years and a half ago:

He felt them enter his mind, but this time he didn't stagger. He led them around thoughts of him changing clothes, filling the bath, practicing dueling; he led them far away from everything else, and then, all at once, he shut them out. He looked half expectant, he knew it. He had just successfully walked both of them around innocent details around his mind, and then shut them out. He expected Snape to smile, for his dad to lighten up because lately he's looked so tired, but both just looked more determined.

"Draco, my son," His dad said, "There is much you need to know, that I think you already know." Draco's eyes widened as Snape casted several charms around his study. Draco never quite understood how someone could know something, but block it out for so long, try their best not to believe it, and then all of a sudden have their world fall apart as it was revealed to them that what they had blocked out, was, in fact, the truth. He hadn't understood until then. "The Dark Lord doesn't care about us. This war," His dad straightened up, "This war is no longer between purebloods and mudbloods and blood traitors. It is about pawns, and power plays, and this war will not end in our favor if the Dark Lord wins. I want you to know this."

It was like being stabbed.

"You'll do well to block any thoughts of this out in his presence." Snape added. Draco looked at them, eyes wide, and his anger grew.

"We have served him since I was a child!" He spat. He had dedicated his life to this. It couldn't have been for nothing.

"And you will continue to serve him until we can find a way out of this." His father sighed. "We're Malfoys. We do what we need to do."

Hold your breath and count to ten

He felt his head start to throb as the situation fully hit him. She was in fact, his way out of this. She was one of the Order's hopes for winning this. He wanted to laugh; he wanted to cry.

"Tell me pretty, has the Order made proper use of a Mudblood like you? Tell me, had Potter had his play time with a toy like you?" Hunter sneered, stepping closer. She was at the edge, safe in a way, but trapped. If a spell hit her she'd fall over, they wouldn't get her. Merlin what could he do? He looked at his father, he looked at the smirk and how absolutely no emotion was behind it. His father knew that this was their chance too… but Mother. A chill danced along his back at what the Dark Lord would do to her if he and his father betrayed them. It had to be only one of them. He took a deep breath and looked back at Granger, at her stormy eyes and how they kept analyzing, pinning down each person. He almost wanted to take a step back when she looked at him.

"Enough of this!" Davids sneered, raising his wand.

Feel the earth move and then

Draco did it before he even realized it. When he looked back at this in fact, he would see it as one of the stupidest things he'd ever done. With a flick of his wand the rocks around them rose, and before Dolohov could turn around, Draco flicked his wand again, and the rocks pummeled into the three of them. The three disgusting monsters in front of them. "Expelliarmus." He breathed. He didn't pay attention to the wands in his hand, instead another chill erupted up his spine when they started moaning and moving; he knew they had spare wands. He sprinted at Granger, and she looked as stricken as he felt.

Hear my heart burst again

He forced down the bubble of laughter at this situation, at the fact that the sun was shining and the sky was cloudless because if anything, it felt like the world should be freezing over right now. He shoved a wand in her hand. "Go." He yelled. "Go!"

For this is the end
I've drowned and dreamed this moment

He figured one day he would die. This was a war, one he knew for a while that he played no key role in. He was going to die saving another life, not writhing under Voldemort's wand. It was slightly comforting. A quick avada kedavra. But she would escape, and his father would not get blamed for this; his mother wouldn't. This was a good death as far as they want. Or at least it would be, if she would just bloody apparate already.

So overdue, I owe them

He sees the two green bolts fire off at the same time, and he knows Hermione is behind him, because right now he can feel everything and he wonders if this is the world making up for the fact that he's willingly going to feel nothing ever again, just to make sure this damned hope lives.

Swept away, I'm stolen

His eyes widened when Dolohov's wand glowed green- one of three spells that couldn't be deflected by a shield charm. He looked away and at his father. He saw the horror and his dad's wand flashing, but it was too late. The green jet shot towards him, just as an arm wrapped around his waist and then he was falling. He watched a jet of green sailed out and over the ocean and vanished just as a pull twisted his stomach.

Let the sky fall, when it crumbles

He hit the water and immediately tried to get up. He was pulled down by arms and pushed down. He twisted and shot up. He spluttered and coughed up water. He looked away from the water and at Granger. "Come on!" She screamed, grabbing his arm. They were sprinting. He couldn't feel his legs, he couldn't feel a thing. He wasn't dead, he wasn't dead. She wheeled around and he gaped as her arms wrapped around him and they apparated again.

He landed on his feet this time, and that much he was grateful for. "Stupefy!" He flew back. "Expelliarmus!" His body rolled as the wands flew out of his pocket. He rolled back onto his knees and looked at her. She was panting, and utterly pale. He opened his mouth to speak- "Petrificus totalus." She whispered. He fell face forward, and all the adrenaline simply ran out of him. He tried to breathe in and dirt flew up his nose. He felt hands gently, quickly rolling him over, and as black started to dot his vision, he wondered if the worried face fading in front of him was real at all.

We will stand tall

September 14, 1999

For a split second, he felt utterly warm. He felt safe. But then he heard voices and coldness swept through him. He opened his eyes, only slightly, and scanned the room. It was an infirmary of some type. It was longer than wider, and bed's lined each long side. He could smell the potions brewing in the room.

"How the hell can we trust him?" He pats the bed for his wand- gone.

"We don't! Haven't you been listening? We interrogate him!" He calmed slightly when he heard Granger's voice. She was better than Death Eaters. Although he's almost certain if he was anywhere near the Dark Lord, he'd be dead.

"Mione I don't trust him. You weren't even supposed to be out there!"

"I'm not asking you to. All I'm saying is that he was going to use himself as a shield for the killing curse. He's why I'm still here and not screaming and bleeding under some wand." Draco bit the inside of his cheek. She hadn't commented on the last thing said.

"She has a point." And then silence followed. The flap opened abruptly, and he sat up, analyzing the three people in front of him. Granger, Potter, and Lupin. He's wandless and utterly at their disposal, but lately, he's gotten very used to the idea of dying. There's just utter silence, and after everything he can't stand it. He hikes a smirk on his face.

"Don't I get a parade for saving the princess?" It's not the right comment for the moment, but the situation isn't even right. He wonders if he'll at least get his wand, but he doesn't dare ask for that right now.

"You're going to have to do some tests." Lupin is the one to talk first. Draco still hasn't looked at Granger, too much a coward to look at the person he just saved- ironic- so instead he noticed how Potter clenched his jaw and ran a hand through his hair.

Tests. He'll have to do tests.

It is an hour later and he's no longer in the warm little infirmary bed. Instead he sits in a chair behind a table, and in front of the same trio as before. There's silence again, and he wonders how it's possible that three people from the loudest house in Hogwarts have any capability of being still. But then again many different sides of people come out when there's shadows.

"Do you still carry the same prejudices?" Lupin asked. He was glad it had been him and not Granger. For some reason, he couldn't look at her. He didn't want to read into it.

"To an extent." He answers. He wonders why they don't just give him veritaserum. "If you're asking me if I believe non-purebloods should be eradicated, tortured, and raped, my answer is no." He refrains from saying the words that will enrage them. This isn't the time for games, and that thought makes everything seem a bit more grey.

"Are you loyal to the Dark Lord?" Lupin asked again. He shook his head no.

"Would you fight with us?" Potter asked it this time. His eyes were unbelieving, judging, confused. Draco bit the inside of his cheek. He had willingly used his shield to make sure Granger would live. He had been willing to die for one simple action. Logically, it would make sense that he would be fine giving up his life in order to end the war.

"I will only do it if my parents are promised immunity after the war." Potter almost laughs and suddenly the gray is replaced with red. "I will give you information against the Dark Lord. I will fight by your bloody side and risk my life. You have no idea what I've been through Potter." Every muscle is clenched, but his voice remained low and calm, "My parents are bloody pawns in His game. My mother at least, is innocent, and if you think I'm going to die and just leave them to rot, you've never been more mistaken."

Or face it all together

September 18, 1999

He stares at the slow stream and silently eats his food. He can hear the laughter behind him, and see the flickering lights the bonfire shoots, but he pays them no mind. He wonders what his father is doing. He wonders if his mother is okay. So many things could have happened after Granger apparated him… so many things. He hears footsteps approaching, and he fights back the urge to reach for his wand- it isn't there. He half believes they were hoping someone in the camp would be murderous at his mere presence, and he wouldn't have a chance to defend himself. He wonders if he would. The footsteps get closer and he eyes a few of the rocks next to him- big enough to hurt if he uses them to hit. He knows he'll fight to survive. He looks to his left and sees Potter, sitting against a tree and eating his own dinner. "Potter," Draco starts, almost immediately regretting opening his mouth, "Why are you sitting here?" The boy actually has the audacity to chuckle.

"Frankly Malfoy, I have no idea." He sounds utterly bemused. Draco's eyes narrow and he looks back at the bonfire. He catches Granger's gaze, and for the first time in a couple days, he holds it. He almost has to. The light of the fire illuminates her, and all he can seem to pay attention to is the way her eyes seem to stare right into him.

Let the sky fall, when it crumbles

October 5, 1999

Training. Raining. It's not too heavy of a rain, but still, the two should not correlate, and yet here he is, sitting from just inside his tent and watching the members of the Order duel. He can't deny that he's impressed. They shoot hexes he hasn't heard of, and he has a suspicion it's because of Granger. It's been like this for days- hours and hours of them training, of new spells being learned. He's jealous of them. He wants to feel the magic pulse through his veins again, but no wand for the big bad Malfoy, the one who bloody saved their princess.

"They're good aren't they?" The voice startles Draco, and he quickly berates himself for being so unaware in a place obviously hostile to him. He takes a deep breath and looks at Potter. He allows himself to relax with the reasoning that he was in an area where he didn't have to be on guard. Each tent is charmed so that other than the heads of the Order, only the people that the owner of tent allows, can step within a 3 foot radius of it. He supposes it only makes sense that Potter would be allowed to approach his.

"They are." Draco replies.

"Especially the one with pink hair." He furrows his brow at Potter, but he couldn't help but agree. She was sparring with two aurors, and easily holding them off. She was clumsy, but there was a certain flair to her wand work.

"Indeed." How odd, Malfoy found it, to be having a civil conversation with Potter. But the boy… man, perhaps… was no longer the bane of existence… maybe third, or fourth. Malfoy was a practical man, he couldn't completely like the Boy-Who-Lived, that would be preposterous. But Potter was definitely not the Dark Lord… Why was Potter smirking?

"They're from everywhere you know? Different countries, different houses, different blood lines. They all came together. When we win," And for a moment Draco understood why so many people followed Potter, he sounded so believable, "it's all going to be different. There's going to be new bonds that haven't been able to form in years." Draco wondered if he was leaving out the parts of a lot of them dying, of the world being half in wreckage after the war, out. He made their situation sound like flowers, and maybe it was like flowers… flowers that were left on a grave and were slowly rotting. He thought of telling this to him and maybe the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Leave-Him-Alone finally would, if only to find someone more… hufflepuffy.

"How very Gryffindor." He settled for.

"Do you want to train?" He had asked it so simply, Malfoy had to stare a few seconds to see if Potter would laugh in his face.

"You would give me my wand?" Malfoy asked slowly. Potter rolled his eyes.

"No I'd make you throw rocks and mud, yes I'd give you your wand." Malfoy was about to decline simply on principle, but then Potter pulled a 10 inch hawthorn wood wand out, and any thought of foregoing magic vanished. His hand shot out, and Potter slipped it to him. All of a sudden he felt relaxed, he felt good. He breathed in the feeling of having his wand back. "Come on then," Potter pestered, leaving the shelter of the tent. Draco lingered a moment in his chair, weighing the odds of one of the duelers attacking him once they saw him point a wand at their precious. "Scared, Ferret?" Malfoy scowled at the loud taunt, but at least Potter's made it clear that this was a frien- nonhostile duel. He got up from his chair and walked through the mud. He faced Potter. "On three."

"One." Draco started.

"Two."

"Stupefy!"

"Exelliarmus!"

We will stand tall
Or face it all together

October 12, 1999

They were panting, but honestly this was one of the only things he found joy in anymore. He could suffer through a little sweat.

"I say that one was a tie." Potter called, hands on his knees. Draco snorted and stood straighter.

"You tripped on mud and my confundus missed. That hardly counts as your skill."

"Yes well you missed didn't you." He retorted, smiling. Git had a point.

"Alright fine, you have 4 wins, there's three ties, and I have 7 wins." Draco smirked.

"We've only dueled 10 times!" He protested. Draco smirked.

"Okay you have 2 wins, there's two ties, and I have 7 wins."

"Bull shi-"

"Potter!" A voice called. Malfoy stared blankly at Lupin. "Come in as soon as you can!" Planning again. They were up to something big. Potter was called in at least once a day for 3 hours at a time. He clenched his jaw and looked back at the raven haired boy. Each time they weren't dueling, he had to give back his wand. It was a feeling he was far from fond of; it felt like giving up a limb or half your brain. But he would do it only so that for a few hours each day he could have them back. He approached Potter slowly, and held his wand out, handle facing away from himself. He refused to have something taken from him without dignity, and this much he could muster. Potter stared at him for a few seconds, and a small smile played at his lips. Draco doesn't understand why, it's almost the equivalent to tying his limbs together and throwing him into the lake with the squid. There are still too many people that would rather him be dead.

"I'll see you soon." Potter nodded, pocketing both their wands and walking away. Draco stood there for a second, watching Potter disappear into a tent. He wondered if there had been any more attacks, or if the Order had killed any more Death Eaters. Would anyone tell him if they killed his parents? He clenched his fists and barely refrained from having a raging fit in public. It would be undignified. But then again, he didn't know if dignity mattered in a time where death and life seemed to be the only two outcomes.

"Ah, the slimey little death eater." Draco silently damned himself for not returning to his tent as soon as he gave his wand back. He took a deep breath and turned around. A gigantic oaf of a man. He damned himself once more.

"And you are?" Draco drawled. Straightening his spine.

"Did you know there was another attack on a muggle village not two hours ago? I bet you're really proud of that." The oaf said, stepping closer. Draco narrowed his eyes and repressed the sneer he felt forming. The man was twice his size, and with a wand.

"Considering I was here, with Potter, no I didn't know about it. Now if you would excuse me." He gritted. He was shoved back immediately.

"You don't even care do you?" The oaf yelled, and then Draco could've sworn that the world slowed down as the man's arm swung back, and then forward.

"Petrificus totalus!" someone yelled at the same time someone screamed "Jonathan!" Draco stood frozen, and then hands were pushing him back and away from the brute.

"Hermione please release the spell, he won't do anything, please. You know what that attack did to him." A small brunette begged.

"Jonathan?" Granger asked, still pushing Draco back, who suddenly got the hint and took a few steps away. His brow furrowed as he saw Jonathan's eyes drift to Granger. Draco saw the anger and the sadness consume Jonathan's eyes. "Jonathan if I release you you're going to have to go to your tent and leave Malfoy alone. I will not release you until I know you're not going to hurt anyone." Her voice was soothing, but strong, and in another time perhaps, Draco would have admired it. Right now he was too focused on the fact that she was willingly standing between him and a… ruined man three times her size. "Move your eyes to my right when you're calm." They waited seconds, and the silence was only penetrated by the small brunette, who was now clinging to the man, crying. Brown eyes moved to their right. "Finite incantatem." And then Jonathan was crying. Draco felt all the resentment drain out of him, and he watched the blonde almost collapse on the girl.

"Thank you Hermione, thank you so much." The girl stuttered, leading Jonathan away. Draco wondered what exactly the man had seen, and then he noticed the arm Granger still had pushed against him. She seemed to realize it as well, because she quickly lowered it and looked down at the ground. She looked back up at him and he was met with the same intensity as last time.

"They scorched a muggle village, there was a pile of bodies." His eyes widened and he took a step back. He would not be blamed for this-

"Granger I was here-"

"He had family there." That silenced him. He looked at the direction Jonathan had vanished to and his brows furrowed. He clenched his jaw. Images of his dad and mom dead, burning… he swallowed hard and looked back at Granger. She was looking hard at him, looking for something. He narrowed his eyes.

"Why'd you stop him?" His voice came out a lot stronger than he felt.

"Why'd you stop them?" She retorted.

"What do you mean why? Obviously I had no choice Granger." He sneered. Her lips twitched, and she looked like he had just walked into a perfect trap.

"There's always a choice Malfoy. You made yours and I made mine."

At skyfall

November 1, 1999

It said something about this whole situation, that Draco was actually very used to Potter sitting next to him during dinner. Draco could move away, could eat in his room, could scream at the top of his lungs that he wanted to be left alone, and yet he didn't. In his defense Potter could just go and leave. He could go sit with his friends at the bonfire every night instead of here by the stream, but he didn't.

"What are you thinking?" Potter asked. Draco stared at him and bit his cheek. Potter could just not be a nosy bloody do-gooder and not care about what Draco was thinking, but he supposed that would go against every Potter stood for.

"Something somebody told me." Draco answered, starting to eat again.

"What Hermione told you about having a choice?" Potter asked. Draco stopped midchew and looked at him.

"What, do you to have sleepovers and reminisce about what you did that day?" Potter had the nerve to grin.

"Well Malfoy, it's not like many other people would talk to you and yes, something like that." Draco continued chewing and stared at the Boy-Wonder. His eyes widened and he pointed his fork at him.

"You're not screwing her are you?" Draco smirked as Potter choked on his food.

"Um, No."

"Well you don't seem so sure-"

"You seem very interested in the thought of her-"

"Touché." Draco cut off, chewing another bite of food. He ignored Potter's blatant staring.

"She's my sister, basically. We've always been there for each other." Potter said, looking back at the bonfire. Malfoy bit his cheek and thought about the other third that should be here. "When Ron's family needed him, me and Hermione were all that each other had." Draco chewed silently and stared at him. He was a bit surprised Potter had told him that much, but then again, he was a Gryffindor. He almost snorted. He almost wished that it was back to the times that which House you were in actually mattered. Instead he would need far more than two hands to count how many Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, and Hufflepuffs had ended up serving the Dark Lord. He followed Potter's gaze and looked at the curly haired girl laughing by the fire. She was facing them again, and he wondered if it was just coincidence or she did it so she could keep an eye on them. It seemed almost ingrained that she would be on the constant lookout for Potter. He bit his cheek. She would probably give herself up in a second for someone he loved. She was supposed to be inferior and yet she was already more human than most of the purebloods he had ever met.