Disclaimer: I know you know that I don't own Harry Potter. And no, there won't be any other single disclaimer in the whole story. Deal with it.

-Prologue-

Humanity is expendable

Malfoy maintained his stance, albeit a bit shakenly. The bigotry-laced mask that had been conditioned into as the son of a Death Eater was gone and twisted in what could possibly pure fear and indecision. Not even a trace of that trade sneer that Harry had grown to hate after years of cohabiting under Hogwarts' roof was visible. But despite Malfoy's new pathetic look, Harry couldn't help but stare at him as if he were a writhing insect that had been stuck under his shoe.

Malfoy had attacked him from behind. After the fateful battle between him and Voldemort, this prat had tried to use his exhaustion in his favor to take him out. To what end? He wasn't sure, but his actions were more than enough for him to seriously consider what to do with the arrogant blond bending on his knees in front of him.

Harry's wand was pressed fiercely against the blond's skin, at the level of his trachea and yet Malfoy still wouldn't shut up.

"Give my wand, Potter," he sneezed in a deceptively smooth voice, his eyes shifting from Harry's glaring emerald orbs to the wand he was being threatened by at the moment, clearly recognizing it as his old one. "I wasn't going to hurt you! I just want my wand."

"Bollocks!" Harry nearly yelled, catching the attention of his standing allies. He could see Hermione's head jerk in his direction, being the closest of the bunch. "That definitely wasn't a simple Expelliarmus, Malfoy- I don't know why you bother when I can recall that particular curse being cast by your little friends here." Just to make a point, he turned his chin sideways, if only slightly as to not lose sight of him.

It was clear who he was referring to since the Light had been victorious over the Dark, albeit not without some serious casualities.

"Just what are you trying to do? Last I saw you, you were fleeing along with your parents," a scornful expression revealed what he thought about that particular fact. "You know what this means, don't you? You just ruined every chance of being pardoned, Malfoy."

"Just give me the bloody wand, Potter." The blond's gaze recoiled at the harsh tone, yet his voice remained even. His hands clenched in raw emotion as he stared head on into the Chosen One's eyes.

"Oh, yeah? Which one?"

"Potter…"

"Ferret," was his cheeky reply.

His taunt seemed to further incense the young Malfoy heir as his face crunched in effort at being physically still. Any front he had tried to put on was long gone. "Bugger off, you insufferable prat! Just give my fucking wand! My original wand, the one you stole from me!"

A low murmuring erupted around them. Aurors were surely analyzing their every move by now, like hawks hovering over prey. Draco shrunk slightly before straightening again; his expression eased into another blank mask, though his eyes were two smoldering grey gems.

"I didn't steal it," Harry said softly, "You know this as much as I do: I won its loyalty fair and square. When I wield it, it doesn't seem to hesitate to do what I want it to do. It isn't yours, not anymore. You're crying over spilt milk, Malfoy."

In the distance, people awaited the following events to unfold. Not another breath was taken as the Man Who Conquered glared down at his foe.

Harry had never felt more self-conscious than in that moment. He wanted to slink away, from anything that resembled people and their expectations. Regardless of Malfoy's crimes, he didn't want to be the one to end his life. He didn't want to play God anymore.

His role was fulfilled. This day had seen the end of the prophecy. He just wanted to be left alone.

His indecision made time stretch indefinitely; the tense silence was so condemning that the sounds of sprinting could be heard like the boom of a cannon echoing in Harry's ears. With the rest of the Death Eaters already having been taken down in full body binds, the remaining Malfoys could only gape at the situation their son had dug his way into.

Out of the two, Lucius was the one who looked the most lost. The elder Malfoy had never bore an expression like that in his presence. Narcissa was another thing entirely: her eyes appeared to be fixed on the unforgiving stance Harry was giving her son. Something dangerous flashed in her eyes and the glint was so distracting that his attention wavered for a split of second.

Apparently, Malfoy noticed and took advantage of the moment to reach forward to snatch away his former wand.

That amazing display of speed took Harry aback, but not even the weariness in his bones, product of too much magic drain, prevented him from rolling away from harm as Draco fired a silent curse in his direction.

A startled yell reached his ears, "Harry!" but didn't bother to recognize it, as he had to move again, else be blasted into the dirt. And so, the Chosen One's fingers wrapped themselves around the elderberry wood of the Elder Wand, with every intent of using it in his promptu fight against Draco.

However, he couldn't find enough time to do so, as a figure with wild hair pushed him to the ground, rolling down the mountain of dirt and debris.

Harry shut his eyes to shield them from the soil, reluctantly following the other's descend as they crashed down the hill. He took note of the way their hands held him by the sides, as if wanting to protect him from the brunt of the fall, cataloguing them as non-hostile immediately. But it was only once they had finished their descend that he could glimpse who had tackled him all of the sudden.

To his shock, all he could see was the determined expression of one of his best friends, Hermione Granger. Only that she wasn't even glancing in his direction, but staring unwaveringly at the person crouching menacingly over them- in the exact same spot Harry had been not so long ago.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but surely seeing the obsidian eyes of Narcissa Malfoy as she snarled at them wasn't it. She had always been the picture of elegance, even in her most trying moments; there was no hint of that woman now.

"I can't believe it," Hermione whimpered as she caught glance of the piercing fangs the Malfoy matriarch exposed through her lifted lips. Her hissing bordered in demonic. "Oh, how didn't I see it sooner?" she lamented. The witch was clutching one of his hands, driving him away as slowly as she dared. Any faster than this would set the creature off.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry could see the exact moment Malfoy crept away from the scene, but didn't act on his first urge to apprehend him. He was too close to Narcissa for that.

"What, Hermione?" Harry whispered back, following suit and staring steadily at the abnormal display in front of him. He recognized the horror in her friend's tone and could only hope they weren't doomed enough for them not to maneuver around the danger like they typically did when they stumbled across high-risk situations.

"She's a Veela, Harry. She's a bleeding Veela."

As if in confirmation, Narcissa roared at Harry, eyes locked with the object in his hand. The Elder Wand visibly glowed in response, the magic it always exuded increasing in potency as if it actually acknowledged the threat.

Narcissa recoiled slightly before advancing towards them, the duo desperately backing away from the half-crazed woman.

"Don't let her catch you, i-if she does she will turn you into threads!"

"Okay!"

"Also, beware of her speed and fangs! Her fangs are poisonous. If she bites you, it's game over!" Hermione yelled-whispered into his ear.

This time Harry only nodded, wondering if someone was going to help them subdue the Veela or if that was both of the Malfoys being captured. As much as he loathed Malfoy and wanted him to be tried, he was hoping it was the former. He did not dare ask what were the consequences of being bitten by a Veela, but every fiber of his body rebelled against the idea.

Drops of pearly liquid splashed onto the ground, sizzling slightly upon contact. Narcissa didn't seem to mind the waste of venom and showed more of her canines.

They crushed into something hard eventually and Harry recognized it as the trunk of a tree. He cursed his luck and moved to a more defensive position along with Hermione.

His heart hammered against his chest.

That seemed to settle it; Narcissa practically flew onto them, jet-black claws drawn as if to slash into their skin. Harry acted without thinking and ducked under her attack, shooting spells from his wand as he evaded another swipe from her.

One connected and the tree gained four long gashes across its length before the Malfoy was blasted backwards.

Paying no heed to his stupefy, the veela shook off the effects of his spell and stalked in their direction once more in surprising speeds, dodging successfully a series of well-aimed spells thrown in her direction. It was only thanks to Hermione that he was able to keep his head attached to his shoulders that time.

Convinced that Narcissa was mostly ignoring her, Hermione whisked her wand in a high arch and flung her fire whip in her direction. She missed, but the veela had to abort one of her attacks midair, therefore saving Harry's life.

With an amazing spin, the Malfoy matriarch rounded on them midair and aimed for their necks. Harry's Elder Wand's tip was glowing, just seconds before releasing its wrath when the claws suddenly changed direction and sliced at his wrist.

Unfortunately for the young hero, the claws ripped apart skin and tissue, forcing him to drop his wand to tend to his wound as blood gushed from the wound.

Hermione shrieked with rightful indignation and blasted the creature's side with a powerful Reducto. But the Veela wasn't even faced and she turned to sink her menacing fangs into the brunette's neck, never minding the huge gap in her flesh that Hermione had left at such close range.

It all happened in slow-motion- he could see what was happening and Harry made a split of second decision: he would be damned to let his best friend die after accomplishing the impossible earlier that day.

If she bites you, it's game over!

Like hell.

Hermione couldn't be allowed to die. She had to find her parents and restore their memories; she was his best mate's girlfriend and the most brilliant witch he'd ever met in his life; she obviously had a bright future ahead of her and he would be utterly devastated if he didn't do everything in his power to save her; her hugs and playful banter, all would be gone...

He wouldn't survive her best friend's death. He wouldn't…

He wouldn't let her die.

He jumped.

Ignoring the bleeding of his wound, he launched himself against Narcissa Malfoy, making sure to hit her with all his strength against her hacked side, and knocked her off her feet before she had the chance to sink teeth into Hermione's untouched skin.

"HARRY!"

"Hurry!" he yelled.

Harry clenched his eyes shut as the veela struggled furiously against his hold, not quite comprehending how in the world one person could possess so much strength and still have lost half of her blood at the same time.

Hermione caught on quickly, but kept glancing worriedly at him. "Harry, for goodness sake, please don't let her bite you!" she begged, "On the count of three, roll away!"

Harry only grunted his agreement, tensing involuntarily as Narcissa stopped moving all of the sudden.

Then the pain set in.

In the background, he could hear Hermione counting down- "Three, Harry, move!"- but he could only stare as the Malfoy matriarch bit savagely over and over again the flesh of his left arm by his assailant's teeth.

My arm! My arm! his mind stuttered uncomprehendingly.

Thousands of needles spread across his skin, like lava scorching him alive and a bear gutting him mercilessly over and over from his arm to his torso and abdomen and lower and higher...

His head… His poor head!

Harry screamed bloody murder. He kept trying to pull away from the Malfoy feasting on his flesh to no avail.

Somehow finally managing to deck Narcissa Malfoy in her face, he gave a hysteric Hermione full-access to the deranged Malfoy, too much absorbed in his torment to really care when her head exploded into bits of grey matter.

It was as if someone set his whole body on fire and simultaneously dipped him into the Arctic Ocean. His sight darkened considerably as the pain closed on him, even without a veela chewing on his frayed nerves.

Someone stop it! He could feel it: something was coursing through his veins and it was melting him from the inside.

This was Hell.

Someone kneeled beside him and something fresh and cold- thank Merlin- hit his face and rolled down his face.

A bushy mane was all he could see by now and he could practically feel the scent of the person flowing freely into his nostrils, his body trembling in both unthinkable pain and physical ache for that particular aroma. He still hurt and screeched, but he could admittedly say that it felt better being embraced by this person than being confined to suffering alone on the ground.

However, the momentary comfort was taken away from him all too soon. He was whisked away quickly and Harry could only protest in senseless screams as his senses drowned him in the darkness.