Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! And sorry that it took so long to get this chapter up…life has been hectic lately. But here it is at last, so enjoy!
*
Harry gasped for air as he ran, panic nearly overwhelming him. But he kept going, pumping his legs for all he was worth, ignoring the steadily growing pain in his side. He was vaguely aware that at some point he'd lost Ron and Hermione in the crowd, even as they'd tried desperately to follow, but he hadn't stopped. He couldn't.
Don't let him be dead, don't let him be dead… The chant in Harry's head was nearly in sync with his labored breathing now. He rounded a corner, nearly running into someone.
"Potter!" the person yelled.
Harry didn't know who had called him. He sprinted through a doorway without looking.
Draco couldn't die. Voldemort couldn't win, not after everything he'd been through - everything they'd been through. Harry's limbs felt like jello and his head pounded with his thoughts. Surely fate couldn't be so cruel. Over six years of acquaintance, of being in a comfortable environment where relationships of all types flourished, and they'd spent the entire time loathing one another. Could it really be over now, after only a few short months? Or had it even been that long?
I love you, Draco… Please hold on…
Harry dashed frantically forward, catching sight of the main entrance up ahead. As he ran, he didn't notice the cloaked figure following close behind.
*
"Do you know how much your mother has suffered on your behalf?" Voldemort spoke softly. He twirled his wand in a complicated figure. "It really is a pity I had to kill Lucius so quickly. I would've liked you to watch Nagini eat him and your dear mother." He twirled his wand again.
Suspended bonelessly in midair, Draco fought not to throw up. His stomach lurched painfully as his world turned upside down once again, bringing him nearly eye-level with Voldemort's oddly calm face. Had he been able to move, he would've flinched as a cold hand trailed down his cheek.
"You, on the other hand," Voldemort hissed, taking a fistful of Draco's hair, "are going to live a long time. I may not even torture you. After all, the pain of knowing you caused your lover's death will be greater than anything I'm capable of. Wouldn't you agree?"
Draco's vision blurred slightly. His head had begun to pound from all the blood rushing to it. "What are you talking about?" he whispered.
Voldemort laughed and yanked Draco's head sideways. "What better incentive, young Malfoy, to bring Harry to me? He knows you're here. I showed him. Even as we speak, he is scurrying to me. Scurrying to his death."
Draco sneered. "How many times has Harry beaten you now? I wouldn't be quite so cocky."
Mouth twisting in anger, Voldemort flicked his wand and Draco toppled to the ground. His shoulders took the majority of the impact, but he lay gasping for breath several seconds before he was able to move. When he did, he realized his wand was lying on the ground beside him.
"What…" Draco swallowed, glancing up at Voldemort. "What are you doing?"
"How many times, you ask, has Harry beaten me?" Voldemort said, a quiet note of fury in his voice. "The real question is, how many times has Harry, and Harry alone, beaten me? When has he ever faced me without aid? Answer me that."
Still unsure what he was up to, Draco palmed his wand and stood slowly, not taking his eyes off the Dark Lord before him.
*
Harry could see them. Voldemort was standing very still, Draco was straightening and backing up a few steps. He couldn't make out what they were saying. Only several feet more, Harry thought, and he'd be able to cast something, anything. Just a few feet more…
Something large, invisible, and very solid collided with Harry, knocking him backward and leaving him sprawled on the ground, stunned and slightly dazed.
"Potter!"
Harry threw a look over his shoulder. He blanched. Striding purposefully toward him, wand extended, was Snape. Shaking with rage, suspecting it was Snape who'd slowed him down, Harry scrambled to his feet and turned to run. In the distance, he could see that Draco had raised his wand.
Once again, Harry met an invisible barrier, but he didn't allow himself to be knocked off-balance this time.
"Reducto!" he yelled, His spell bounced uselessly to the grass.
"It's useless, Potter!" Snape said mockingly. "Nothing you are capable of will break my ward."
All the anger, the infinite rage Harry held for his former Potions professor, exploded to the surface. He whirled around, seeing red.
"You fucking bastard!" Harry screamed. He sent a wordless slew of spells and curses flying at Snape. "Let me through!"
Snape deflected his enraged attempts, though not easily. "Stop it, Potter!" he spat, his black eyes glittering angrily. "You can't go to him. Not yet."
"No!" Harry yelled, pounding a fist into the wall. "He's going to fucking kill him! Sectumsempra!"
"Ah!" Snape cried out as the slashing curse caught him across his left leg, splattering blood into the darkness. He crumpled to the ground, wand still raised.
"You think killing me will save him, Potter?" Snape seethed, his features contorted in pain. "You think it will save you?"
Harry barely registered Snape's words. So close, yet so far away, he could hear Draco scream, could see him writhing on the ground in agony as Voldemort, looking almost bored, brandished his wand again and again.
"Draco! Draco!" Harry screamed in frustration, pounding his fists over and over against the wall, barely noticing or caring when his knuckles split and bled.
"Control yourself, Potter!" he heard Snape spit angrily. Harry whirled around, his vision white with rage. Snape had apparently healed his leg, and though paler than ever, was standing shakily on his feet, glaring down from over his hooked nose at Harry.
"I'm warning you, Snape, let me through!"
Snape narrowed his eyes. "I'm warning you, you insufferable brat, to cease being James Potter's son for once in your life-"
"Crucio!" Harry screamed, feeling his hatred for Snape coursing through his body and flowing down from his fingertips. Once upon a time he would have felt disgusted with himself for immediately resorting to using such a spell, even on Snape. But Draco was in trouble, and Snape was the only thing preventing Harry from going to him…
Snape deflected the spell, but stumbled backwards slightly, breathing heavily. Nonetheless, he managed to sneer at Harry from behind his stringy hair. "Blocked again and again, Potter, what have I told you?"
"Expel-"
"Petrificus Totalis!"
The spell caught Harry mid-syllable, knocking him stiffly onto his back before his mind had even registered what Snape had said. Then he felt himself being levitated above the ground, moved against his will back towards the castle - further and further away from Voldemort, from Draco.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating with all his might on breaking Snape's spell, but it was useless. And he needed to break it, had to break it, because Voldemort would kill Draco if Harry didn't stop him. Harry willed his body to stop midair, feeling frustration welling in his chest, despair clutching at his throat.
After what seemed an eternity of floating, Harry felt himself lowered down upon a stone floor, and upon opening his eyes he was able to ascertain that he was in a classroom.
Snape was standing over him, an inscrutable expression on his face. Harry met his eyes defiantly, hoping his own eyes conveyed the full extent of his hatred.
"Potter," Snape spat, his lips curling in disgust. "I know it's too much to ask of you, but for once you're going to listen, without interruption, to what I have to say. And if you're half of what Dumbledore thought you were, maybe my words will even penetrate that incredibly thick skull of yours…"
Don't you dare talk about him! Harry wanted to scream. Snape was still speaking, but Harry could no longer hear him over the steady pounding in his ears. Snape, it all came down to Snape, it always had. Snape, who had hated Harry from the beginning, for no reason at all, who had lied at every turn, contributed to Sirius's death, killed Dumbledore, and now was keeping Harry prisoner, helpless to save the person he loved…
"…putting my memories into a Pensieve, as they can explain far more than I ever could…"
Harry barely heard him, feeling his fists clench at his sides. Then came the realization: he could move again, and before he could think better of it, he was clutching his wand, pointing it at a startled Snape.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted. Snape's wand flew out of his hand with such force that it struck a far wall, and Harry noted with some detachment that they were in Snape's office, the site of their unsuccessful Occlumency lessons from fifth year.
Snape paled noticeably, but he still managed a trademark sneer. "Potter, you idiot, you have no idea what you're jeopardizing…"
"Shut up! Protego!" Snape flew backwards, colliding into a bookshelf and spilling books onto himself.
"Potter…"
"Crucio!"
Snape cried out, contorting in pain, and Harry was glad, glad that he was finally getting what he deserved…
But then, when the roaring in Harry's head had cleared, when he realized that Snape was no longer crying out or even moving, something moved back into place for Harry, and he dropped his wand in horror. Snape was very still, his breathing shallow and pained, slumped awkwardly against the bookshelf.
"Oh, god," Harry whispered. He tentatively moved toward Snape, his hands shaking as he cleared away the books piled on him.
"Professor?" Harry choked, feeling as though the room was closing around him. He really was as bad as Voldemort now, there was simply no denying it. He knew that Draco liked to believe that Harry was somehow more moral than he was, yet knew that when it came down to it, Draco would never be capable of inflicting pain the way Harry was. And liking it.
"Professor Snape?"
"Potter," came the choked whisper. Harry leaned closer to hear him. "…you utter fool."
Harry swallowed, nodding. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Whatever you've done…it's…I'm supposed to be better than this."
"Spare me your moral woes," Snape said raspily, somehow managing to interject disdain even in his weak state. "If you're truly remorseful, you'll listen to what I have to say this time." He pointed at the Penseive on his desk, his hand trembling uncontrollably. "Help me up, Potter."
"Why don't I just bring it to you-"
"Do as I say," he snapped, sounding slightly more like his old self.
Reluctantly, Harry bent down, allowing Snape to grip onto his shoulders and pull himself upright. Shrugging off Harry's attempts to assist him any further, Snape walked shakily over to his desk, gripping the sides and swaying for a moment. Breathing harshly, he stared down at his hands, continuing to sway.
"Do you need help?" Harry asked in a small voice.
Snape opened his eyes, shooting Harry a cold look of contempt. "No," he said shortly.
"Are you sure? I could-"
"Give me my wand, Potter," he demanded curtly.
Harry nodded, scrambling hurriedly across the room to grab Snape's wand, putting it in his hand a moment later.
Snape snatched the wand from his hand, not even acknowledging Harry's presence, then immediately put the wand to his greasy temple. A silvery strand followed a moment later, trailing wispily out the end of his wand. Snape quickly placed the memory into the Pensieve, and proceeded to repeat the process several times.
Finally, Snape put his wand down, all but stumbling backwards. Harry pulled a chair out for him which Snape ignored, choosing instead to walk to the opposite side of the room and conjure a chair for himself.
"Now, Potter," Snape said, his face paler than ever, his black eyes glittering strangely. He nodded towards the Pensieve. "Watch them now."
*
It was with an oddly detached air that Draco considered how dire his situation was. Voldemort's spells and curses had ceased for several minutes now - at least it seemed that long - and taking advantage of the small reprieve, Draco slowly took note of his condition.
Sluggishly, his eyes traveled to his left arm, or rather, to the mutilated remains of it. Draco felt the urge to laugh. After all he and the others had done to prevent Voldemort from using the Dark Mark, in the end it had been Voldemort who had removed it completely. His fingers twitched slightly, but not because Draco had meant to move them. He wondered if he'd ever be able to use that arm again.
"Are you listening to me, Draco?" a voice, distant and cold, said to him.
Draco blinked and tried taking a deep breath. Sharp slivers of ice shot through his chest and he coughed. A deep gurgling sound accompanied the action.
"Look at me when I'm speaking to you!" Voldemort hissed from above. Draco narrowed his eyes, focusing the best he could on the white face peering down at him.
"I've… noticed," Draco whispered haltingly, "that… Harry still isn't… here."
Voldemort chuckled. "I do believe this information is more harmful to you, than I, my young friend. After all, you are the one he supposedly loves. And yet, as you say, he still isn't here."
As generally unresponsive as Draco's mind was at the moment, Voldemort's words bit into him harshly and he flinched.
"No…" Draco slowly shook his head back and forth. "Still going to kill you… though."
"Kill me?" Voldemort knelt to one knee and cupped the side of Draco's face in his hand. Draco shivered. "Haven't you heard?" he spoke softly. "I can't die."
A wave of dizziness and nausea swept over Draco and he jerked weakly against Voldemort's frigid fingers.
"Draco, Draco," Voldemort crooned, tightening his hand slightly. "How incredibly weak you are. How sickening to know your body will simple die and decay, making food for the worms, refuse for the weeds. How does that make you feel? Does it -"
Draco cried out as Voldemort, moving quickly, stood, one of his feet colliding with Draco's damaged ribs. Dazed, his entire being pounding with pain, he watched as Voldemort began furiously firing curses at the intruders. Flashes of red and green, of white and yellow, crackled brightly in the night sky. At one point, Draco imagined he saw pink in there as well, but he wasn't sure.
"We'll hold him off!" someone yelled. "You get the boy!"
Draco cringed, imagining one of the young Hogwarts students, perhaps the Slytherin boy from earlier, had somehow gotten caught in the crossfire. It was only when a large silhouette bent over him, suddenly blocking the night sky, he realized they'd been talking about him.
"Hang on," the newcomer spoke in a rather familiar voice. Not realizing there was an alternative to this idea, Draco nodded slightly and closed his eyes as his body was levitated away.
As he was moved, Draco fought valiantly to stay awake - but quite suddenly finding himself lying stretched out on a stone floor, he realized he had not succeeded.
"Try not to move just yet."
Swallowing thickly, Draco glanced to his side and groaned softly. "Not you again…"
Lupin raised his shaggy eyebrows without looking up. "Yes, me again." Lupin's voice was wry but gentle as he swept his wand back and forth, pausing often to cast a healing spell. After he finished, working on Draco's arm last, he sat back on his heels and let out a breath.
"You're in a safe room right now," Lupin said. "Stay here until someone else arrives for you."
Draco snorted and sat up slightly. Though considerably better than before, the weakness and bone-deep ache of his residual injuries was enough to keep him still for several seconds.
"Malfoy," Lupin put a restraining hand on his shoulder. "You can't possibly fight. You should - what are you doing?"
Struggling to control his shaking limbs, Draco shrugged out of Lupin's grasp and stood.
"I'm fine," Draco said stiffly, taking a wobbly step backwards. "Where's my wand?"
Frowning, Lupin handed Draco's wand to him. "You had it in your hand when I found you. And you're not fine."
Blinking rapidly, Draco sought out the door and began moving toward it.
"Mal - Draco," Lupin called, following close behind. "Please, stay here. You've done more than enough. I'll look for Harry. Please, just stay here."
His hand on the door, Draco paused and looked back at Lupin.
"How touching," he sneered, though his voice sounded weak to his own ears. "First you tell me to let myself die, and now you're my personal savior." He wrenched the door open. "How fucking sweet."
Lupin closed his eyes, looking as though he was in pain. "Draco," he said in a tremulous whisper before opening his eyes and fixing them on Draco. Draco could hardly bring himself to look at him.
"I've wondered what I would say to you if I saw you again."
Draco shook his head, looking at the floor. He didn't have time for this, not when Harry was somewhere out there, needing him. "You don't have to say anything, actually. I get it."
"I never wanted to make anyone feel that they were dispensable," Lupin continued softly, a faraway look on his face. "Because that was always me, you know. Back at school. James and Sirius, they always had each other, and poor Peter just wanted to be like them. Me…I had to hang back, be the sensible one, make sure the others stayed out of trouble. It was my purpose…without it, I was nothing to them. I thought."
Draco managed a halfhearted sneer. "Much as I'd love to stick around and listen to your personal woes, Professor, I'd hate to be here when you start choking up hairballs, or howling at the moon…it would be uncomfortable for us both, I think." Draco's voice sounded tinny to his own ears, sadly lacking in the acerbic quality he'd long prided himself on. He supposed he was simply too tired to manage it.
"Goodbye, Professor," Draco said sharply, brusquely cutting off Lupin, who had appeared on the verge of replying. He took a shaky step forward, his limbs trembling with the effort, followed by another step. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, and he swallowed, hoping to quell the crushing nausea. Nonetheless, he kept walking, stopping every few steps to catch his breath. What the fuck had Voldemort done to him?
A hand caught his elbow and he blinked in dull acceptance as not one, but two Lupins danced before him.
"Wh-what?"
"At least let me help you, Draco. Since you insist on being stubborn."
"Help me?" Draco asked petulantly, leaning against Lupin in spite of himself. He closed his eyes briefly, the added support helping more than he cared to admit. "Is that what you were doing back there? Putting who-knows-what spells on me…finishing the job, for all I know…"
"I'm no Healer, Draco, but I'm sure you don't actually believe that," Lupin said wryly. "And I did tell you to stay put…I think you'd feel considerably better if you'd listened to me, let adults do the worrying for a little while."
Draco bristled, pushing away slightly from Lupin. "I'm not a coward, you know."
"No, you're clearly not. But like I said, you've done more than enough. You and Harry both."
They shuffled along in silence for a few moments. Draco wondered where exactly Lupin was leading him, yet found himself almost trusting his former professor. And it did feel good to let an adult take charge for awhile - even if said adult had once suggested that Draco let himself be killed.
He also wondered about Harry. He hadn't wanted Harry to go to Voldemort, of course, but it was extremely strange that he hadn't. If Voldemort had been telling the truth, and he'd had no reason to lie, then what had prevented Harry from coming?
Pushing such troubling thoughts aside for the time being, Draco concentrated on the task at hand - namely, on not collapsing.
*
Harry felt numb as he pulled his head out of Snape's Pensieve. Out of everything he'd just seen - Snape had been friends with Harry's mum? Okay. He'd killed Dumbledore on his orders, to save Draco's soul? Okay. And so on. But it all really came down to one thing, something he nearly refused to believe.
"I have to die?" Harry blurted, startling Snape, who had apparently dozed off for a moment. Snape straightened up slightly.
"I take it you're finished?"
Harry gave a sharp laugh, perfectly aware of how hysterical it sounded. "What the hell do you think?"
He had to do it, of course, not matter how much the idea terrified him. What did it feel like, to die? Harry wondered. And would any part of him be left, existing somewhere, or would he simply end? He'd always known Voldemort might beat him, end his life, but the idea had always been in the abstract, always unknown. But now…to think he'd have to march up to Voldemort, knowing he was feeling the wind at his face, the snow crunching under his feet for the last time…did he really have that kind of strength?
Maybe he wasn't a hero where it really counted, maybe he really was just a boy, just….Harry.
"Potter!" Snape said sharply, interrupting Harry's inner turmoil. "Are you listening to me at all?"
Harry shook his head. "Afraid not, Professor. Would you? I mean, if you knew you had to die to save the world…what, am I Jesus now? Or something…I don't know…I just…"
"Potter, you don't have to die," Snape interrupted quietly, sounding nearly soothing.
Harry blinked. "W-What? But Professor Dumbledore…"
"Professor Dumbledore was too arrogant for his own good!" Snape replied curtly. "I won't pretend to understand everything he did, Potter, but I do know he believed you would defeat the Dark Lord, and that you wouldn't die trying."
"How?" Harry snapped, heart beating rapidly in his chest. "How the fuck can I survive if I'm a Horcrux?! Don't you understand? I have to die!"
Snape shot him a withering look. "For once in your life, Potter, use your brain! Think! How was your Muggle aunt able to protect you all these years? With gardening tools? It was your mother's blood, you imbecile, her sacrifice that saved you."
"I know all that!" Harry yelled. Unable to contain himself any further, he slammed his fist on a shelf, reveling in the shock of pain that shot up his arm.
Face whiter than ever, Snape stood. "And what happened the night the Dark Lord returned, Potter?"
Harry glared. "You know what happened! He killed Cedric Diggory, he tortured me, his Death Eaters - "
"And he used your blood to revive his body!"
Harry froze, his eyes widening, any remaining color draining from his face.
"Your blood," Snape continued, his voice deathly soft. "In which runs your mother's sacrifice. Her protection. Do you understand now? He can't kill you, Potter, because the Dark Lord, unknowingly, made himself your own protection."
"So…" Harry swallowed. He glanced at the floor, mind spinning with Snape's revelation. "Even if he uses the Killing curse on me… it won't…"
Snape nodded curtly. "It will destroy the part of his soul that resides within your body, nothing more. And Potter, you must do it as soon as possible. It won't be long before he realizes that all of his Horcruxes are destroyed."
Harry frowned. "What? There's still Nagini…"
"Destroyed, Potter. And before you ask, there are certain advantages to being Headmaster. The portraits, you see…"
Knees shaking precariously, Harry resisted simply sinking to the floor and sobbing. Relief flooded his brain like a drug and he nearly laughed aloud.
"Why are you smiling?" Snape snapped, gingerly lowering himself back to his chair.
Harry shook his head. "Maybe you don't value people's lives very much, Professor, but I do. Including my own."
Turning to leave, needing to make use of the surge of adrenalin now flooding his veins, Harry paused long enough to hear Snape speak once more. And, for perhaps the first time since Harry had known him, his voice sounded truly sincere.
"I did not mean for anything to happen to Draco," Snape spoke quietly. "You must understand the sacrifices one makes, Potter…"
Harry closed his eyes briefly. "I have to go."
Without turning back, Harry opened the door and left. Heart and mind pounding equally with anxiety and newfound hope, he began running as quickly as he could to find Voldemort. Hopefully, for the last time.
*
"Draco!"
Draco's head snapped up in time to see a great mess of bushy hair, colliding and nearly knocking him off his feet.
"Oh my god!" Hermione shrieked, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Draco grimaced but didn't push her away. A few feet back, Ron nodded at Draco, looking anxious.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked shrilly. She stepped back, still holding Draco's shoulders. "The last thing we knew, Harry said Voldemort had you! And then we lost him along the way, and then we couldn't find either of you!"
"Granger," Draco said loudly. Hermione blinked and closed her mouth, though her eyebrows furrowed even higher in her silent concern.
"You don't know where Harry is?" Draco asked with a sinking feeling.
Ron shook his head. "No, mate. We were hoping he was with you…"
"Professor Lupin?" Hermione glanced up in surprise as she apparently noticed their former instructor's presence for the first time. Draco took a steadying breath and leaned back against the nearest wall.
Lupin offered a tense smile to Ron and Hermione. "I'm sure Harry is fine. But we do need to find him." He glanced at Draco, who scowled slightly in return, dropping his gaze to the floor.
"What is it?" Hermione said, looking questioningly between the two.
Draco shook his head, wrapping his shaking hands around his torso. "Nothing, let's go."
"It's not nothing," Lupin answered gently. "Mr. Malfoy isn't doing his best at the moment, however. So splitting up may be our best option."
"Isn't…?" Frowning, and before Draco could stop her, Hermione cast a quick spell in Draco's direction - one which he recognized by the slight tingling feeling as a medical diagnostic spell. She'd become quite adept at them within the last few months.
Hermione gasped and Ron's eyes widened in alarm. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Draco! What happened? You are not fine!" Hermione placed a hand on Draco's forehead. He promptly swiped it away with an annoyed gesture. He hated feeling weak, especially right now, but that didn't mean everyone had to know about it.
Lupin, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem sharing his business. "Voldemort did have Draco, for a short time. Unfortunately, he is capable of doing considerable damage, no matter that time," he finished darkly.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, thank you for that finely sugar-coated version, sir." He looked at Hermione and Ron. "I killed Nagini, though I'm not sure he realizes it, and then I was tortured - as bait for Harry..." He trailed off, the stinging feeling of Harry's continued absence still close to the surface.
Her eyes watery, Hermione nodded. "Ron and I destroyed the Diadem. But… oh, where could Harry be?" she cried, a few tears escaping down her cheeks as she gently examined Draco's left arm. It was shaking worse than ever, still throbbing and twitching of its own accord, but not nearly as bad as only a little while ago.
"Nagini?" Lupin asked, clearly puzzled. "Voldemort's snake? A diadem? What on earth are you three talking about?"
Draco, Ron, and Hermione exchanged quick glances. Hermione shook her head.
"There really isn't time to explain, Professor," Hermione said reluctantly, swiping at her eyes. "Not until we find Harry."
Draco pushed himself off the wall, wincing when the sudden motion caused his stomach to roil and his head to spin. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go find him."
Lupin cleared his throat. "We'll find Harry, Draco. You've really done enough, and you're just going to hurt yourself further-"
"Fuck that," Draco scoffed, glaring at Lupin. "You may have been my teacher once, Professor, but you have no authority over me these days."
"Draco." Hermione put a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Don't. Just think about it for a minute - you can barely stand, how much help do you think you'll be if Harry needs it? If he's…hurt or something." Her voice trembled slightly, a fresh wave of tears misting her eyes.
Draco sighed. There was clearly no reasoning with them.
"I'll stay here," he said finally, holding his breath.
Hermione eyed him skeptically. "Will you?"
"Yes!" Draco snapped exasperatedly, feeling some regret over his harsh tone afterwards. After all, they all were just as worried about Harry as he was.
Hermione nodded, the hand on his shoulder clenching tighter. "Okay. We'll find him, Draco, don't worry. I'm sure he's fine - you know Harry, he probably just forgot what he was doing, that's all."
"Would you like someone to stay with you?" Lupin asked, his brow furrowing in concern.
Draco resisted the urge to simply scream at them, although he doubted he had the energy. "I'm fine," he said between clenched teeth. He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Really. I'll be right here, just…find Harry. Please."
"We will," Ron nodded, a look of fierce determination on his ruddy face. He nodded at the others. "Come on."
And then they were gone. Draco watched them leave, breathing a sigh of relief. Then, mentally summoning all energy reserves in his body, he went in the opposite direction.
*
Harry walked with as much determination as he could muster - one foot in front of the other. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. This was the moment he had waited for, in some respects, his entire life. He wondered if it would hurt to be hit with the Killing Curse, if he'd receive another scar. He pressed a finger to the familiar lightning bolt, tracing its shape idly.
He had to believe that Draco was okay, otherwise his march to confront Voldemort would be unbearable. He had to be okay, simply had to be. Especially now, when everything was finally falling into place. Images of Draco's face, his haughty expressions and sly smirks danced before his eyes; the way he felt pressed against Harry, surprisingly soft, in spite of his angular frame. And the future…they had so much time left, their whole lives, really. Visions of lazy days spent in bed with Draco, of flying again with Draco, of fucking and kissing and making love - these were the thoughts that kept Harry going, moving inexorably towards his destiny, his birthright.
"Harry!" Draco's voice, as if conjured into being.
Harry's step faltered, his heart racing. Could it be, or was it merely wishful thinking? He turned around slowly, almost afraid it had been his imagination, that he would be greeted by nothing but emptiness and stars - mocking him, as stars are apt to do.
It was Draco. He was pale and shaking slightly, and his arm looked worse than ever, but he was there. He was real and alive. Harry drew in his breath, breaking into a run towards Draco.
"Draco. Draco," he murmured over and over once he'd reached him. He drew him into his arms, taking care not to jostle his left arm. "Draco…" Harry nestled his face against Draco's neck, kissing him there softly.
Draco exhaled sharply, sounding nearly like a sob. "Harry, where the hell have you been? I've been worried sick about you, you bastard."
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, running a finger lightly through Draco's hair. "I'll tell you everything later, I swear."
"Tell me now," he demanded, his lips forming into a slight pout.
Harry leaned in and kissed him carefully, holding the back of his head gently. Draco gasped, gripping the back of Harry's neck with his right hand and responding desperately.
Harry ended the kiss reluctantly, leaning his forehead against Draco's for a moment to catch his breath.
"Draco?" Harry murmured, drawing back slightly and looking Draco in the eyes.
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
Draco's eyes widened, his lips twitching slightly. "Harry…"
"And I always will. That's what I wanted to tell you earlier. It's stupid that I didn't." He kissed Draco again, chastely this time, then sighed.
Draco was eying him strangely. "Oh my god, this is goodbye, isn't it? Harry, whatever it is you're planning to do, don't! Not everything is your responsibility, remember?"
"Some things are, though."
Draco was pulling out his wand, presumably to stop him, but Harry was faster.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry cried, cringing at Draco's look of shock when his wand flew out of his hand and landed in a clump of snow. "Draco…"
Draco was breathing hard, his breath hitching. "Harry, please don't do this…"
Harry swallowed, wishing he could tell Draco everything, but knowing it would only be dangerous for Draco if he knew. He raised his wand.
"I'm sorry, Draco." He paused, gulping. "I do love you."
"I love you, too, Harry, now let's go back to the castle. Granger and Weasley are waiting for us-"
"Stupify!" Harry cast the spell with as little force as possible, quickly casting a cushioning charm to catch Draco's fall, followed by a warming charm. He wished he had time to take Draco back to the castle, but knew he didn't…
But there was something he could do, however.
"Expecto Patronum!" This time, he thought only of Draco, and the stag burst quickly out of his wand.
"Hermione, Ron, follow my Patronus, please. It will lead you to Draco, he needs your help. I'm fine, don't worry about me."
The stag bounded away, and Harry knelt by Draco and kissed his cheek carefully. He quickly placed his own cloak behind Draco's head to keep it out of the snow, and hoped that Ron and Hermione would hurry. Casting yet another warming spell around Draco, Harry straightened up reluctantly and resumed his walk.
