Draco awoke to the choking stink of smoke and death.
Draco awoke to the ear-splitting sound of curses being roared from mouths like it would poison them. Someone screamed the killing curse. There was another scream, a scream of pure pain and loss. From the same throat an undistinguishable battle cry escaped, there were more screams, splashes, gurts, shicks, every onomatopoeic sound that could be used to describe several people being ripped apart by a melee weapon. Then it went silent.
He vaulted out of bed, staring at the window. There, in the garden staring back at him was a small platoon of Death Eaters. One of the wiser raised their wand and uttered a quiet curse. A bolt of thaumaturgical energy raced towards him, and caught him between the eyes. The stupefy curse worked through his system instantly. He was out before he fell into a pair of strong arms.
*****
The Death Eaters wanted to set a fire around the perimeter, letting it swoop in, inflame the lower levels and smoke the prey out. Their plan would've worked, but they were a fresh band of conscripts, driven by the tyrant to capture or kill, so they made mistakes. They got too close and were too loud. Most of the inhabitants were in the kitchen, which had a lovely view of the garden and its addition of half-hidden Death Eaters.
The battle being raged was a relatively small one, by comparison of, say, the battle Hogwarts had to host when it had been invaded by Death Eaters last year. Thanks to their inexperience, the original 7 Death Eaters had been whittled down to just 4. They fought wand and fist for even a single death on the other side, and finally, they got one. The goblin Griphook, though, was a minor character and would not be missed very much. Nevertheless, in the nick of time, the Order of the Phoenix's cavalry arrived. They appeared in a circle formation around the four hardier Death Eaters. There were not many themselves, but they had recently taken on a couple that had been roaming Britain, using swords instead of wands to kill Death Eaters, while torturing information about everyone-knows-who from their victims, and so far they had proven themselves to be priceless allies.
They were a female and a male, both about nineteen, and they drew their swords and advanced on the enemy. The cries of a hundred slaughters rang in their ears and they gleefully entered into the blood lusting frenzy they had been most feared for. They swiped and they slashed and suddenly, it was all over.
*****
Harry darted forwards and caught Draco in his arms just in time for the battle to end. He tried to not look out the window, where he knew he would see chopped up little pieces of Death Eater littered on the ground. He carefully carried Draco back to his bed and laid him down. He had a slight, blissful smile on his face and was whispering something again and again. Harry leant in close and strained his ears to listen.
His eyes went wide with shock, and he nearly suffered a heart attack. Anger, shame, surprise, curiosity. Those colourful emotions swept through him, each vying for the place at the control panel to his actions. The anger wanted him to strangle Draco until he would no longer breathe. The shame wanted him to curl up in the fetal position in the corner of the room. The surprise simply wanted him to walk out the door. And the curiosity, he shuddered with an unidentifiable emotion as he thought about what his curiosity would lead him to do.
*****
The male beserker stopped his sword an inch from the only experienced, and only alive, Death Eater's throat while the female held him safely, and in turn, two of the Order held her steady while the others helped the wounded and dug a grave for Griphook, lowering him as respectfully as possible. The defenders, the Weasleys, looked in disgust at the macabre sight they had brought with them.
"Go on, Jack, ask him why. Ask him!" said the female. Her voice was bantam, sadistic yet musical, whenever she spoke she was half-giggling, as if there were a permanent comedian in her head, making her struggle to keep control. Those who got close enough would realize that her irises were a bright, blood red.
"Yes… Tell us, wretch. Why have you come here?" the male, Jack's voice was far more controlled than the woman's, but it still sang of the delicious feel of blood trickling down his throat. It would not be surprising if the pair were closet vampire wannabes. When the Death Eater did not answer, he tipped off the mask and cut the smooth cheek skin of Lucius Malfoy.
Jack then placed a hand on his wand and muttered the spell that would invade his mind. Lucius tried to cry out for him to stop, but was abruptly silenced by the invasion. Jack mentally shifted through recent memories like pages of a book, stopping every here and there out of plain interest. He worked his way through last night's, only his humanity stopping him from destroying the mind before he'd begun.
Eventually, though, his persistence paid off as their intent was finally revealed.
Jack watched the memory play through his mind like a badly made horror film. He-who-must-not-be-named was perching in a wooden chair as if there was a large, sharp spike on the chair and sitting flat would cause it to rise up somewhere uncomfortable. He was ordering Lucius to take his team to kill his son. Lucius, and by extent, Jack, was revolted for different reasons. In the past seven months Lucius had been conditioned to be repulsed at the very idea of having a son, and had been encouraged by the unnamed lord himself to perform disgusting, degrading acts on his own son, which repulsed Jack.
He retreated from the Death Eater's mind and relayed the given commands to the surrounding people. He then took the blade away from his throat, while the Death Eater nearly collapsed in relief.
Jack looked at his sword as if considering something. He glanced at his counterpart. She nodded.
Jack drew back the blade, and, with a cry, rammed it into Lucius' rib cage, straight through the heart, through his partner and out the other side. She released him, and the Order released her.
She glanced down; the fatal wound was already half-healed.
"Can we kill the son also, Jack?" she hissed.
*****
In the end, surprise won him over. Harry pulled out his wand and muttered a spell Hermione had taught him to wake a stupefied person.
Draco's eyelids fluttered open and he briefly took in Harry's shocked expression before he walked out, thudding down the stairs, leaving Draco alone, again.
Leaving him alone because he had whispered, with a few moans and loving sighs in between, 'Harry….Harry….Harry…. Harry….Harry….Harry…. Harry….Harry….Harry….'