Eight months and two days into term
Blaise was woken by Daphne Greengrass that night, thank God. He was stark naked and curled around Theo, evidence of their earlier exploits still smeared across his skin and the bed. Slughorn had been sent to wake the house, but Daphne had volunteered to get them. Sometimes, he could kiss that girl. She was a good friend. Even after all of this.
Instead, he took her hand and pressed his lips to it. It wasn't goodbye, except in all the ways that it was.
It didn't take long to get presentable and out of the room (for the last time). He told himself he wasn't holding Theo's hand because he was scared. It was for support, because his legs weren't guaranteed to work after earlier. Of course it was.
The Great Hall was full of scared students.
Terrified.
Of course they were. They were going to try and fight the most powerful Dark Wizard for over a hundred years. Gryffindor idiots. Weasley's family had returned out of the woodwork. All of them sat huddled together at the Gryffindor table, but she wasn't there. He hoped that was because they'd taken her somewhere safe, not because she'd finally been broken by the idiots of her house. He hadn't seen her for a few days. Finnigan was there though, beaten to hell as usual. And Longbottom, returned from his mysterious disappearance of the last few weeks.
In fact, the whole school was here.
He listened to McGonagall. Evacuation. A last ditch attempt to save at least some of them. He admired that about her. She wouldn't give up; if it meant a single student more would survive this hell. She wasn't going to force them into some heroic last stand bullshit that would more than likely end in a massacre.
And then Voldemort's voice filled the room and he unabashedly grabbed Theo's hand again, resisting the urge to bury his head in the other boy's collar. He said he wanted Potter, and Potter was here, and they weren't going to let him go.
Stupid.
He looked around the room at the ashen faces of the men and women he'd grown up with, derided, argued with, fought with. The men and women who he'd played Quidditch against, seen triumph and fail. He remembered Finnigan's pitiful attempts at Transfiguration. He remembered Sloper and Peakes' ferocity on the Quidditch pitch. He remembered walking in on Corner and Chang at the back of the library and having his eyes opened against his will to the wilder streak of Ravenclaw House. He remembered watching Crabbe break Creevey's camera all those years ago, and feeling genuine guilt at the heartbreak in the kid's eyes. He remembered when MacMillan had, rather pompously, offered to lend him extra newt's eyes when he'd been short for a potion. He remembered Loony Lovegood, and Hannah Abbott, and Lavender Brown and the Patil twins and
They were going to give it all up in the hope that Potter would save them all.
He barely heard Pansy's tirade, until the whole school was baring down on their table. Stupid girl. She should've known how stupidly noble they were. And then he heard McGonagall's order to leave and tried not to feel guilty about the relief that bloomed in his heart. He wasn't going to die tonight. He'd decided long ago that he wasn't made for stupidity, or for heroics. He would take risks for what he loved, but right now that was Theo and nothing else in the world. They'd made their stupid decision. They had to suffer the consequences of it.
He couldn't help but wonder as he left the hall, how many of those angry faces would her ever see again?
Through corridors, following the back of Daphne's head as she walked ahead with her arm around her little sister's shoulders. Draco ducked out somewhere on the second floor. He ignored it. Not his problem anymore. If Draco was going to be dumb enough to get involved in this massacre, it was his own fault whatever happened to him.
Through a tunnel, still sticking as close to Theo as possible, trying to reassure himself that they were together, safe, getting the hell out of a situation that would only ever end in death. Deaths. Plural. Multiple. Hundreds, most likely.
And then he was in the kitchen of a pub in Hogsmede, holding tightly to Theo's hand still. Daphne and her sister stood in front of them, ready for freedom. A crack and then they were gone
He wrapped himself around the man beside him, focusing on his family's summer house, near Geneva in Switzerland. Then he whirled around and felt the squeezing sensation of apparition take hold of him. He was away from the madness. He was safe.
He just wished that taking the smart route didn't feel so much like running away.
XxXxX
A/N- This is the end of this fic. :( I thought it needed to end with the Battle of Hogwarts. There will, however, probably be a sequel, and possibly a Ginny/Seamus version of the same year. What do you guys think? What do you want to read?
Thanks for your patience in sticking with this fic for so long. It's the first chaptered fic that I've published as I've written and finished, despite it take such a long time. I'd love to know what you thought of it.
Thanks a bunch everyone.
Pixie
