A/N: As this story is AU, I'm taking some liberties here with how the battle develops, but I've tried to stay true to the main themes without doing much rehash of DH.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Battle of Hogwarts
Draco rapped his knuckles lightly on the edge of the doorway leading into the Owlery, announcing his presence to the pretty red-headed girl standing near the windows, gazing sadly out into the warm spring night. Ginny Weasley turned toward him, startled.
"It's just me," Draco assured her.
Ginny's lips curved up in a dry smile. A greenish-yellow bruise discolored her right cheekbone, giving her a decidedly devilish look. "You give the Inquisitorial Squad the night off, Head Boy?"
Draco crossed to stand beside Ginny and tilted her chin up so he could inspect the bruise. "You should've had the nurse look at that."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'll live."
Draco shrugged, attempting nonchalance to hide his concern. He knew how Ginny hated to be fussed over.
"That was an impressive Bat-Bogey Hex you cast on Goyle, by the way," he commented mildly. "I've been meaning to thank you for not using it on me."
"I thought about it," Ginny retorted with a mischievous wink, "but I know how protective Luna is. She can be kind of scary when she's mad."
Despite their light banter, Draco was truly worried about Ginny, whom he'd come to think of as something of a kid sister during the last nine months. All year long, he'd watched her grow thinner and paler, watched her easy sense of humor transform into razor-sharp cynicism, watched her become, in short, a harder, tougher person than she should have needed to be at sixteen.
Life at Hogwarts was difficult for all of Draco's old friends in the D.A. now, with Snape as Headmaster turning a blind eye to the abuses doled out by the Carrows and Draco's Slytherin Housemates. One of Snape's first acts as Headmaster had been to replace the House Prefects with the Inquisitorial Squad, a hand-picked group of Slytherin bullies commanded by Draco as Head Boy and his Slytherin Housemate Millicent Bulstrode as Head Girl. (Honestly, Draco thought Millicent would have made a better Head Boy, as she was taller, beefier, and much, much meaner than he was). As the ostensible leader of the Slytherins, Draco had to publicly approve of the harsh new regime; privately, he had worked behind the scenes all year with Luna, Ginny, Longbottom, and the other D.A. members to keep anyone from being seriously hurt.
But the situation had spiraled out of control anyway, because there was only so much one seventh-year wizard could do against a campaign of brutality as immense as the Carrows' and the Slytherins'. No matter how hard Draco tried to keep his friends safe, he couldn't entirely prevent the frequent skirmishes that broke out in the hallways or on the grounds.
The latest of which, just outside the girls' bathroom on the second floor, had started when Goyle decided it would be smashing good fun to Levitate a second-year Gryffindor around the hallway, while the little girl, hanging upside down by her ankles, had tried desperately to keep her skirt from flying over her head. Ginny, as luck would have it, had happened to be nearby, and she'd hexed Goyle before Millicent rounded the corner.
Ginny was a fierce scrapper, Draco had to give her that, but Millicent outweighed her by a good fifty pounds. Hence, the ugly bruise on Ginny's cheek.
In fact, things had gotten so bad that some of the D.A. members were now in hiding. Just before Christmas, Draco had suggested to Longbottom that they set up the Room of Requirement as a permanent hideout for those students Draco couldn't adequately protect. The first inhabitant of their makeshift shelter had been Seamus Finnigan. Shortly before the winter recess, Seamus had finally lost his temper and covered Alecto Carrow in painful boils with the Furnunculus jinx after she'd struck Susan Bones across the face for suggesting that the Unforgivable Curses should remain illegal. For the insult to his sister, Amycus had threatened to hang Seamus by his thumbs in the dungeon; Draco had known the big, brutal man meant it, too, even though Seamus insisted he wasn't scared. With Longbottom's help, Draco had managed to spirit the fiery Irishman off to the Room of Requirement before Amycus could find him, and that was where Seamus had remained, joined throughout the spring term by a handful of other D.A. members (including Longbottom, whose penchant for heroics rivaled Potter's).
Ginny refused to hide, though she was typically bruised from one run-in or another with the Inquisitorial Squad. Unlike Luna, who (to Draco's immense relief) kept a low profile, Ginny refused to play nicely with the Carrows or the Slytherins. Draco had actually tracked Weasley's little sister down that evening in the hopes of talking some sense into her. If she could just hold her temper in check a few more weeks, the school year would end, and she could fume about Snape, the Carrows, and the Inquisitorial Squad from the safety of the Burrow.
Unfortunately, Draco could see from the stubborn gleam in Ginny's eye that he was wasting his time. "I know what you're going to say," she preempted him. "You're going to say I'm not helping anything by making trouble."
"I don't think you're making trouble," Draco corrected her. He continued to cup her chin gently in his hand, fixing her with a stern, brotherly look. "But you might try walking away once in a while."
"I won't." Ginny's eyes flashed with sudden anger – not at Draco, at the situation. "I won't sit back and let those bullies say and do whatever they want. It's bad enough I'm stuck here at all, while Harry and Hermione and even Ron are off fighting You-Know-Who…"
Draco sighed. Releasing Ginny, he turned to stare out the window, searching the darkness as if it might hold a clue to Potter's whereabouts. He understood Ginny's frustration at remaining behind, attending classes and doing homework and preparing for exams like everything was perfectly normal, while the Chosen One was out there somewhere, fighting for his life – and theirs.
Draco knew much more about Potter's mission now than he had even in August when he and the other Death Eaters had crashed Bill and Fleur's wedding. All year, Draco had been meeting privately with Snape in the Headmaster's office. No one at Hogwarts found it odd for Draco, who had been all but adopted by the Dark Lord, to be shown such favoritism by Voldemort's chief commander at Hogwarts, but what they didn't know – what Draco hadn't told the members of the D.A., not even Luna – was that Snape had used those meetings to show Draco everything he and Dumbledore together had learned about how to destroy the Dark Lord.
Thanks to the memories Dumbledore, the other Order of the Phoenix members, and even Potter had collected over the years, Draco now knew what a Horcrux was, and he knew Potter was systematically hunting down and destroying those Voldemort had created. Tom Riddle's diary had been the first to go, the year the Chamber of Secrets was opened; Cadmus Peverell's ring had been destroyed before the beginning of Draco's sixth year, releasing the curse that would eventually have killed Dumbledore. Since Potter, Weasley and Hermione had gone off on their quest, Draco and Snape were aware of two Horcurxes they had destroyed: Slytherin's locket, with Snape's help (though the trio didn't know the Headmaster was behind Gryffindor's sword appearing in the woods), and, according to a missive Snape had received from Voldemort that very evening, Helga Hufflepuff's cup, following a truly spectacular break-in at a Gringotts vault belonging to Draco's aunt Bella.
If Dumbledore's theory, which Snape had shared with Draco, was correct, that left three Horcruxes to dispose of: one would likely be related to Hogwarts' other founder, Rowena Ravenclaw; one was the great snake Nagini; and one, though the Chosen One didn't know it yet, was Potter himself.
That was why Draco hadn't told anyone what Snape had revealed to him in their meetings. It was cruel enough that the Prophecy meant Potter had to die for Voldemort to be defeated. Draco saw no need for the people who cared about Potter to suffer under the weight of that knowledge, as Draco had since the fall.
So he didn't argue with Ginny, didn't tell her she should be glad she was here, in relative safety, because he knew how empty those words would be. Instead, he said, "Just try and stay in one piece until the end of the year, all right?"
Ginny punched his arm. "You worry too much. You're worse than my brothers."
Draco smiled at that. It had taken a lot of convincing to persuade Ginny he wasn't really on Voldemort's side – actually, when Luna had brought Draco to the first D.A. meeting of the year, he'd had to duck Ginny's Stunning spell before he could even get a word in edgewise. But as time had passed, he'd gradually earned back her trust along with everyone else's.
Now, he kind of liked that Ginny thought of him as family.
Pointedly closing the subject of the need for her to control her temper, Ginny asked, "So what's the news? Has Snape said anything more about what You-Know-Who's doing to find Harry?"
Draco heard the concern running beneath her light tone. Much as he hated to give Ginny more reason to worry, he wasn't going to lie to her. "Voldemort's got Death Eaters in Hogsmeade," he said, revealing information he'd just learned in Snape's office less than an hour ago. "He's convinced Potter means to come back here, to Hogwarts."
Draco didn't add that the Dark Lord was now aware of what Potter was hunting, and that he believed Potter's quest would soon lead him back to the school, where Voldemort had hidden one of his last remaining Horcruxes, an item of some significance to Ravenclaw House. Neither Snape nor Draco had any idea what that item might be or where Voldemort might have hidden it, but Snape was worried. Voldemort was more determined than ever to find and kill Potter. So long as Potter remained on the run, the chances of that happening were slim, yet it would be just like Potter to convince himself that he had no choice but to come back to Hogwarts and seek out the Horcrux, regardless of his own safety.
For a moment, Ginny's eyes lit up at the idea that she might soon see Potter again. In the next second, her face fell as she realized how much danger the Chosen One would be in if he returned.
She pressed Draco, "Will you put the word out? Try to warn Harry that You-Know-Who is watching the castle?"
"My next stop is to see Luna," Draco assured her.
One of the bright spots in Draco's life that year had been acting as a spy for Luna's dad. As Draco had predicted at the end of the summer, the Weasley twins had helped their friend Lee Jordan set up a rogue wireless program, "Potterwatch," to report the news The Prophet (which was controlled by the Ministry now, and therefore by Voldemort) wouldn't. Xenophilius had taken Draco's warning to heart: The Quibbler had gone back to printing its usual prattle about Nargles and Wrackspurts, while Xenophilius took whatever information Draco passed to Luna, tapped his own secret sources, and secretly forwarded the real news to Jordan.
Draco was finding it was more than the simple act of rebellion he enjoyed about working for The Quibbler. He rather liked being an undercover reporter, seizing on a piece of important news and seeing to it that the truth wasn't hidden from the world by those in power.
Of course there was no guarantee Potter would hear the warning, as they had no way of knowing if he had access to a radio. Potter, Weasley, and Hermione would surely have to go into even deeper hiding now, after the break-in at Gringotts, since they would no doubt realize that Voldemort would be onto their Horcrux hunt after that little escapade.
And even if Draco helped get word to Potter that Hogwarts was under surveillance, would it matter? Would Potter stay away, or try to break through, to finish his mission before their world descended any deeper into chaos?
Ginny seemed to be thinking the same thing, because she declared in a way that sounded like she was trying to convince herself, "Harry wouldn't come back here anyway. I mean, he left to protect us all, didn't he?"
Feeling a bit awkward – he liked Potter well enough, but Draco felt too brotherly toward Ginny to be comfortable discussing her love life – Draco offered hesitantly, "Potter didn't want to leave, you know. I talked to him at the end of last year, and it was a really hard decision for him."
Ginny colored. After a slight pause, she blurted out, "I guess, but…I mean, what did he have to stick around for?"
"You?" Draco suggested.
Ginny shook her head. "I never…We never really got around to talking about that."
Draco wasn't sure what to say. On the one hand, he wanted to comfort Ginny. On the other, if Snape was right about Potter being doomed, maybe it was better if Potter remained nothing more than a "might have been" in Ginny's life. Draco couldn't imagine losing Luna, now that she had been his for the better part of two years.
As if following his thoughts, Ginny, standing side-by-side with him at the window, elbowed Draco in the ribs. "So how about you and Luna?" she inquired teasingly, purposefully lightening the mood. "You two find any time to be alone these days?"
Had he not been by that point a master at concealing his true emotions, Draco would have blushed. His mind immediately turned to the few precious, lovely hours he and Luna had stolen together over the course of the year – in the Room of Requirement, in the fall before it became a D.A. refugee camp, and this spring in the empty dungeon classroom where he'd once learned Occlumency. Draco had thought the afternoon they'd spent in the clearing behind her dad's house had been magical, a once-in-a-lifetime kind of feeling; since then, he and Luna had shared several magic moments. He carried those memories around inside like a warm flame beneath his heart.
As it was, his sly grin told Ginny all she needed to know. She giggled.
Just then, a sharp, burning pain shot through Draco's left forearm. He gasped, his spine going rigid, his sapphire eyes turning icy and remote.
Ginny stared at him, shocked by the abrupt change in his demeanor. "What - ?"
"Voldemort. He's summong the Death Eaters," Draco explained tersely. Pushing the sleeve of his robe up to his elbow, he displayed his Dark Mark for her: The snake's head seemed to be writhing, the ink deepening from gray to coal-black before their eyes.
Ginny shuddered. "It isn't – you don't think – Harry…?"
Draco couldn't deny that was exactly what he was thinking. He couldn't imagine any other reason the Dark Lord would call his faithful followers together at once.
"Get to the Room of Requirement," he commanded, his tone confirming Ginny's worst fears. "Find Luna and take her with you. Tell Longbottom I'll meet you all there as soon as I can."
"Where are you going?" Ginny demanded. Obviously frightened, she nevertheless appeared worried that Draco might be heading off to fight – and she did not want to be left out.
"I can't Apparate out of Hogwarts, not even to answer Voldemort's call," Draco reminded her. "I've got to get to Snape, see if he knows what's happening. I promise not to leave the castle without sending word to you," he added.
He wasn't certain he could keep that promise, but the last thing he needed was Ginny Weasley dogging his steps, desperate for information about Potter, her brother, and Hermione.
Reluctantly, Ginny nodded. Draco squeezed her shoulder quickly, trying to infuse his touch with some comfort, before hurrying off to find out what sort of trouble the Chosen One had landed himself in this time.
It was the second of May. Draco didn't know it then, but the trio was even then following Neville through the tunnel leading from the Hog's Head Inn, where Dumbledore's brother Aberforth had concealed them from the Death Eaters, to the Room of Requirement. And Voldemort was winging through the night sky, bringing his army to the castle where he would, for the final time, face the Chosen One.
The Battle of Hogwarts was about to begin.
Luna, of course, was delighted to see Harry, Ron and Hermione, and even happier to be able to help Harry by getting him into the Ravenclaw dormitory to study Rowena Ravenclaw's statue, though she had to admit the arrival of You-Know-Who demanding Harry's immediate surrender somewhat dampened the pleasure of their homecoming.
She had been leaving the library when Ginny had raced up to her, breathless, and reported that Draco's Dark Mark was burning, the signal for the Death Eaters to gather. Draco had gone to look for Snape; Ginny was rousing the D.A. Luna had headed straight for the Room of Requirement to tell Neville what was happening while Ginny had run off to find reinforcements.
As it turned out, Luna's announcement had been unnecessary. When she'd reached the Room of Requirement, Harry, Ron, and Hermione – tired and dirty from their adventures – had just been emerging from the tunnel to the Hog's Head Inn, accompanied by Neville, who was bursting with excitement that the fight he and the other D.A. members had been spoiling for all year was finally about to begin.
Now, with the castle under siege by You-Know-Who's forces, Harry and Luna were hurrying back toward the Room of Requirement, where he was supposed to meet up with Hermione and Ron. Luna was still feeling quite pleased with herself for taking out that horrid little pig of a woman Alecto Carrow; even though her brother had signaled You-Know-Who that Harry was here anyway, Luna liked to think her intervention had given Harry the time he'd needed to talk to the Ravenclaw ghost.
After Luna had Stunned Alecto, Amycus and Professor McGonagall had arrived. Harry had slipped back under his Invisibility Cloak, out of sight of the Ravenclaw students who had hurried down from their dormitories to see what all the noise was about – until Amycus, after McGonagall had called him a coward for wanting to blame the Ravenclaws for mistakenly summoning You-Know-Who, had spat at the Head of Gryffindor House. Luna thought it was very dashing for Harry to have stood up for McGonagall the way he had, throwing off his Cloak and sending the brutal-faced Amycus flying into a wall with the Cruciatus Curse.
Before Harry could explain to McGonagall (and, by extension, to Luna) what he was looking for that had brought him back to Hogwarts, You-Know-Who had arrived, announcing to the school that he would give them until midnight to turn Harry over. While McGonagall and the other Heads of Houses had rushed off to mount the school's defenses, Luna had stayed behind with Harry, who, quite inexplicably, had told her they needed to find the Grey Lady.
Luckily, that hadn't been a problem, as the Hogwarts ghosts had all been flying through the crowded corridors, as excited as the students by the unexpected mayhem. Luna had pointed the Ravenclaw ghost out to Harry in the foyer near the Great Hall.
She didn't know what the Grey Lady had said to him, but whatever it was, it must have been important, because Harry now seemed to have a plan of action. His sense of purpose made Luna feel safe despite the chaos erupting around them.
Students were rushing through the halls, some clearly terrified, others overjoyed that, at last, they were able to fight. From Colin Creevey – after he'd stopped jumping up and down with excitement at seeing Harry again – they learned that Nurse Pomfrey and Mr. Filch were evacuating the underage students and anyone who didn't want to fight. That encompassed most of Slytherin House, with one notable exception: Luna had spotted Johanna Evanston, her elfish face set in a grim mask, making her way determinedly toward the Great Hall, a lone Slytherin in a sea of Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Gryffindors heading for where Professor McGonagall was assembling the Hogwarts defenders.
Luna didn't blame Johanna for wanting revenge. She herself still had nightmares about the night Pansy died.
"You should leave, Colin," Harry protested, when Colin declared his intention to join the defenders. "You're underage – "
"I'm part of the D.A.!" Colin looked offended at the idea of abandoning his friends now that battle was upon them. "I'm with you, Harry. It's what you trained us for!"
"Just be careful," Harry admonished him, though Luna could tell Harry was impressed by the younger boy's bravery.
Hurrying along through the crowded hallways, Luna tried to find an opening to tell Harry about Draco, to let him know that his old enemy actually hadn't betrayed him. With everything happening so fast, she couldn't think how to begin. She knew Harry wasn't going to believe her straightaway. If they could have just had some time, a few quiet moments together, like that day at the lake when she'd persuaded him to hear Draco out in the first place…
An explosion outside suddenly rocked the castle. The battle had begun.
Deciding that it was now or never, Luna opened her mouth to tell Harry that he needed to hear her out, to understand that Draco really was on their side – just as they rounded a corner to find Ron and Hermione, clutching what looked like a sack filled with Basilisk fangs, talking to Ginny.
Ginny's eyes met Harry's, and from the looks on their faces, Luna knew exactly what they were experiencing: The sounds of war erupting outside, the shrieks and shouts and thuds and bangs, were fading into the background, the world receding until no one else existed except the two of them.
Luna knew how it felt. It was exactly what she'd experienced the day of Bill and Fleur's wedding, when she'd been reunited with Draco after two months of not knowing where he was or if he was all right.
Harry, it appeared, had finally made his choice.
Ginny walked purposefully toward him, silently holding out her arms, and Harry strode forward to meet her. Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder; Harry gathered her close, resting his cheek against her silky red hair.
They stood there for a long moment, holding one another. When Ginny pulled back slightly, Harry, without a moment's hesitation, leaned down and kissed her.
Luna saw Ron look up at the ceiling, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips, as if he'd always known it was only a matter of time before his best friend and his little sister got together. Luna glanced at Hermione, afraid of the pain she might see there, but Hermione's pretty face never wavered from a perfectly neutral expression. Aside from the fact that she was holding her shoulders stiffly, her spine abnormally straight, she looked for all the world as if she was completely happy for her friends.
As Luna watched, Hermione cast a sideways glance at Ron, who caught her eye. They both blushed and looked quickly away.
Maybe in time, Luna reflected, Hermione and Ron would find their way together, and then Hermione could be truly content with Harry's choice. Maybe she would never stop loving him (and Luna was fairly certain Hermione had fallen in love with Harry), but maybe she had never stopped loving Ron, either. Maybe they would all find happiness, and be able to be friends again without the awkwardness.
Assuming any of them lived beyond tonight, of course.
"Everybody's gathering in the Great Hall," Ginny informed Harry and Luna, finally breaking the kiss after Peeves swooped by overhead, making retching noises. "The teachers are all down there. All but Snape," she corrected, grinning with satisfaction. "The Heads of Houses saw him right off. He was no match for McGonagall – she sent him flying straight out the window like the old bat he is."
Harry perked up. "You mean he fell?"
"No," Ginny corrected. "He flew."
Harry looked disappointed that Snape had managed to survive. "Just another trick he picked up from his master," he commented darkly.
Luna held her tongue, though she suspected Snape being forced to flee the castle was not good news. Draco had never bothered trying to convince the others Snape was really, truly on their side – that would have been almost impossible given how foul the new Headmaster's regime had been. Luna understood why Ginny and Harry were glad to be shut of their old Potions professor, even as she regretted that Snape might never get a chance to tell Harry his side of the story.
"Do we know where we're going, Harry?" Hermione asked, as she and Ron hurried over to join them.
Ginny frowned. "What do you mean, where you're going? The fight's downstairs, isn't it?"
Harry looked torn. Clearly, he wanted to join in the battle, yet he had also come back to Hogwarts for a purpose – one that didn't involve facing You-Know-Who quite yet.
"There's something I have to do," he decided reluctantly, sounding so much like Draco before Dumbledore's death that Luna immediately stiffened, sensing a desperate, possibly doomed-to-fail mission in the works. "It's why I came back. It may be the only way to stop Voldemort."
Instead of arguing with him, Ginny squared her shoulders. "You go see to that, then. The rest of us can hold them off."
"You can't go out there!" Ron cried. "You're underage. Mum said – "
"Mum isn't here," Ginny retorted.
"She will be any minute," Ron warned, adding quickly to Harry and Luna, "Neville's using the passage to Hogsmeade to bring the Order of the Phoenix through. Fred and George just got here a minute ago, and I saw Dad running off with Lupin and Tonks. Kingsley's here somewhere, too."
Luna thought that was the best news she'd heard all night.
"I'd better go before Mum gets here and stops me." Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek.
Harry caught her hand. "Ginny, maybe you shouldn't – "
"I'm fighting." Ginny's tone brooked no argument, though she softened her tone with a sweet smile. "Be safe, Harry."
"You too," he said, looking like he wanted to say more but couldn't with Ron, Hermione and Luna standing there.
Luna followed Ginny a short distance down the hall, out of earshot of the others, who started whispering together. "Have you seen Draco?" she asked quietly.
Ginny shook her head. "Haven't you?" Luna admitted she hadn't. Ginny frowned, clearly worried. "He went to look for Snape, but that's been almost an hour ago. Have you told Harry the truth yet? About Draco and Dumbledore, I mean?"
"No. Things have been a little crazy."
"You'd better stay with him, then," Ginny advised, glancing at where Harry, Ron and Hermione stood together. "If he sees Draco before you can explain…"
Ginny didn't have to finish that thought. Luna knew all too well what Harry was likely to do to Dumbledore's killer, given the opportunity.
The girls embraced. "Good luck," they said at the same time, and shared a grin.
With one last, longing glance at Harry, Ginny ran off to join the fight below, while Luna turned and followed the trio up the stairs to the Room of Hidden Things.
"You're sure this diadem thing is here, mate?"
Draco could almost hear Hermione gritting her teeth as she called out, "Yes, Ronald, Harry is sure. Just keeping looking. It has to be here somewhere – "
Turning a corner near the Vanishing Cabinet, Hermione stopped dead in her tracks as she came face-to-face with Draco.
He waited for her to Curse him. His wand remained in the pocket of his robes; he figured he deserved whatever jinx Hermione used against him.
To his surprise, Hermione, still heart-achingly beautiful despite looking ragged and weary, just stared at him, without making any move to attack. As the silence stretched on, Draco cast about for something witty to say, but all that came out was, "Good to see you, Granger."
Hermione made a small sound that might have been a strangled sob and took a step forward, preparing to launch herself into Draco's arms. But before she could, Potter stepped around a stack of broken chairs and spotted Draco.
The Chosen One raised his wand with murder in his green eyes.
"Protego!"
Hermione's spell instantly created a Shield between Potter and his target. Potter gaped at her, his mouth falling open in astonishment.
"Hermione," he stammered, "I – what – it's Malfoy! We have to – "
"You need to hear him out, Harry." Hermione made no move to lower her Shield. Her jaw was set in a familiar stubborn line; Draco realized suddenly how much he had missed that bossy, know-it-all tone. "We owe him a chance to explain himself."
"Owe him?" Potter burst out. His hands were shaking with rage. "Explain himself? He killed Dumbledore! What can he possibly have to explain?"
"Hermione's right, mate."
It was Draco's turn to stare, dumbfounded, as Weasley stepped up beside Hermione, making no move to go for his own wand.
"Ron? You're defending Malfoy?" Potter shook his head, like he was trying to wake himself up from a really odd dream. "Have you two been Imperiused?"
Draco was wondering the same thing – until he remembered the last time he had seen Weasley and Hermione: in the Forbidden Forest, the night he'd killed Greyback, the night Pansy Parkinson had died.
Draco had always assumed Weasley and Hermione believed the worst of him, just like Potter, yet he hadn't considered that, unlike Potter, they had seen him risk his life to save Luna (very nearly dying in the process), had witnessed his unadorned grief at losing Pansy, had seen his shock and confusion when the Dark Mark appeared over Hogwarts.
All this time, he'd been imagining that they hated him. Draco was caught off-guard by how much it mattered to know that, deep down, Weasley and Hermione had held out hope for him to be proven loyal in the end. That they were willing to hear him out now, when Potter was ready to dismiss him as a traitor and be done with it, reminded Draco that not everyone saw the world in black-and-white.
He was still shocked that Weasley would show him such generosity, though. Maybe he hadn't been entirely fair to Ginny's older brother, Draco reflected, with a small pang of guilt.
Don't get carried away. He's still Weasley.
Potter jumped when Luna, serene as ever, appeared beside him and placed a gentle hand on his wrist. Slowly, she pushed Potter's arm down until his wand was pointed at the floor instead of at Draco.
"You should hear what Draco has to say, Harry," she offered lightly, staring meaningfully into Potter's eyes. "Then you can decide for yourself whether to trust him."
Draco sensed some private memory passing between them, as if Luna had made this argument once before. He supposed she probably had – when she'd asked Potter to hear him out in the first place, during their sixth year.
Whatever the explanation, Luna's words worked. After a pause, Potter nodded. Turning to Draco, he said coolly, "I'm listening."
Hermione let her Shield charm dissolve.
As quickly as he could, Draco relayed what Dumbledore had asked him to do. He kept his gaze locked on Potter's the entire time, determined that the Chosen One should read the truth there, as he told him that Dumbledore had already been dying thanks to the Curse on Peverell's ring; that he had asked Draco to carry out his mission so he could become a spy in Voldemort's ranks; that he had bequeathed the Resurrection Stone and the Elder Wand to Draco, to keep them safe from Voldemort's clutches.
"I know what you're doing here," Draco concluded. "I know about the Horcruxes. I can help you."
Potter, plainly wavering between accepting the offer and Cursing his old enemy, finally sighed. "Ravenclaw's Diadem," he declared simply. "That's the Horcrux. I know it's in here, somewhere, because I saw it last year when we were using the Vanishing Cabinet. I just didn't know what it was at the time."
"You mean this diadem, Potter?"
Draco whirled with the others to find Zabini sauntering toward them, a beautiful goblin-made tiara resting in the palm of one upturned hand. He smirked, his dark eyes glowing with malice.
Five wands – Potter's, Weasley's, Hermione's, Luna's and Draco's – pointed at Zabini, who clucked his tongue warningly. "You don't want to do that," he cautioned.
"Like hell we don't," Weasley retorted.
Zabini called silkily, "Crabbe, Goyle, show them why they don't want to attack me."
Draco had a sinking feeling he knew what was about to happen. Sure enough, Crabbe and Goyle trudged up behind Zabini, dragging Ginny Weasley between them.
Crabbe had his wand pressed hard against Ginny's throat; Goyle had a death-grip on her upper arm, squeezing hard enough to leave finger-mark bruises.
Draco's eyes narrowed. He'd had just about enough of Blaise Zabini.
"How did you know about the diadem?" Hermione demanded, sounding truly put-out that Zabini had worked out the answer to the Horcrux riddle before she had.
"I saw Amycus Carrow in the hallway a couple of hours ago. He told me you three had come back to Hogwarts looking for something," Zabini returned smugly. "I've got to admit, I figured he was mistaken. I didn't think Potter would have the stomach to crawl out of whatever hole he's been hiding in for the past year."
Weasley tensed at the implication that Potter was a coward. Draco watched Hermione place a restraining hand on Weasley's arm, inclining her head ever-so-slightly toward Potter. From the corner of his eye, Draco saw Luna, standing beside the Chosen One, take a small step back, her dreamy smile never faltering even as she shifted to have a clear shot at Zabini over Draco's shoulder.
He smiled to himself. People always underestimated Luna because she seemed so happy and bubbly. No one ever fully appreciated just how dangerous she could be when cornered.
"I decided I'd hang around up here," Zabini went on, motioning to the junk-filled aisles surrounding them, "where pretty much everything that gets lost at Hogwarts ends up. I figured you'd show up sooner or later."
"So you've been in here this whole time?" Weasley demanded, looking murderous.
Zabini smiled triumphantly. "Caught on, have you, Weasley? Yes, I've been here. I'll admit, I didn't know what 'diadem' you were talking about at first, but from your faces, I'd say I managed to pick up the right one."
"That was really clever," Hermione commented. She sounded so genuinely impressed that Zabini took his attention momentarily off of Potter.
Which was clearly what Hermione had wanted. In the next second, Luna lifted her wand and cried, "Stupefy!"
Zabini slumped to the floor with a grunt as a jet of red light struck him in the chest. In the blink of an eye, before Crabbe or Goyle could react, he Transfigured into the giant silver panther.
With an ear-splitting roar, the cat leapt straight at Crabbe and Goyle – who screamed, released Ginny, and bolted for the door.
Draco chased them out of the room just for good measure, growling and snarling. They were too frightened to even try to Curse him; at the door, Crabbe nearly shoved Goyle down in his hurry to escape.
When Draco turned back, he found his friends doubled over, laughing so hard tears were streaming down their cheeks.
Weasley gasped, "Did you see their faces? I think Crabbe might've actually pissed himself."
Ginny, clutching her sides, straightened up enough to hold a hand out toward the great cat. "Thanks, Whiskers," she said.
The cat tossed its head. A moment later, Draco stood before them again in his human form, smirking.
"You all right?" Potter asked Ginny, wiping his eyes.
She nodded, grinning slyly at Draco as she assured him, "I'll live."
Potter became solemn again quickly. "Okay, let's get the diadem and get out of here. I want to know what's happening downstairs – "
"Blood traitor!"
Too late, Draco realized they should have been paying more attention to Zabini: Recovering from Luna's spell, he was sitting up, his face full of loathing as he looked from Potter to Draco.
"You're going to regret betraying the Dark Lord, Malfoy," Zabini declared. "And you, Potter, I can finish you, right now."
Before they could stop him, Zabini waved his wand once, shouting a spell that was lost in a sudden roaring, billowing wind that swept through the room.
The hair on the back of Draco's arms stood straight up, almost like a lightning storm had broken out in the Room of Hidden Things. The noise of the strange wind grew louder, rushing down the aisles of stacked junk toward them, bringing with it a powerful gust of hot, dry air.
All of them, even Zabini, stared in mute horror as a wall of flame raced toward them.
The flames, Draco could see, were not just flames. Horrifying shapes – dragons, Chimeras, serpents – danced inside the wall of fire; it was a living, breathing mass of fiery beasts, intent on one thing.
Absolute destruction.
"We have to get out of here!" Hermione shrieked.
Weasley stepped up beside Draco. "Aguamenti!" he cried, pointing his wand directly at the flames.
Water shot forward in a huge gush, and for a second, Draco thought they would be saved – until he realized the water was having no affect whatsoever on the fire.
"I don't think that's working," he observed, doing his best to sound calm. "Any other ideas?"
"Get down!" Weasley seized Draco by the front of the robes and jerked him out of the way just as Zabini jumped to his feet and sent a Killing Curse their way. The two of them tumbled sideways into a broken cabinet, smashing it; empty sherry bottles rolled across the floor, crunching underneath them.
Even with the terrifying flames bearing down on them, Draco couldn't resist turning to Weasley and commenting dryly, "You just saved my life."
Weasley grinned. "Don't read into it," he quipped, echoing Draco's words to him during their ill-fated rescue of Ollivander.
"Come on, you two!" Hermione was pleading. Zabini had already headed off in the direction of the door, with Potter, Ginny and Luna in pursuit, since he still had the diadem; Hermione was motioning for Weasley and Draco to follow them.
The heat was searing now. Draco could feel sweat trickling down his back as he helped Weasley to his feet. He chanced a glance at the fire – it had switched directions and seemed to be following Potter now, which was the only reason, Draco realized, he and Weasley hadn't been burnt to a crisp where they'd fallen.
"What is that stuff?" Weasley demanded of Hermione, as they weaved their way as fast as they could through the piles of broken, discarded items, searching for their friends – and the exit. Hermione just shook her head.
"Fiendfyre," Draco muttered, his words lost in the roar of the flames. He couldn't believe Zabini had conjured it. He clearly didn't have the control to master it; the flames were spreading throughout the room, threatening all of them. It was magic on the level of Dumbledore or Voldemort, not a seventh-year student.
Smoke filled the room, searing their throats, blinding them. Draco's heart was pounding. This was not how he wanted to meet his end, burned alive by Fiendfyre. Nor was it how he wanted his Luna to meet her end. They had to find a way out – had to get to the door – had to stop Zabini taking the diadem to Voldemort, where it would be beyond the Chosen One's grasp –
Suddenly, just as Draco's knees gave out, his breath coming in short, painful gasps as he choked on the super-heated, smoke-clogged air, a figure on a broomstick swooped toward him. "Give me your hand," Potter shouted to him, reaching out.
Draco managed to reach up and grasp Potter's wrist. He pulled himself up onto the broom, rasping, "Where's Luna?"
"Ginny's got her," Potter assured him. He pushed off the ground and raced toward the door, the fire practically licking their heels. Draco bit down a yelp of fear as a dragon's head appeared in front of them, its fiery tongue shooting straight at them; Potter braked and yanked the Firebolt upwards, nearly throwing Draco off the back. He only managed to hold on by wrapping his arms tightly around Potter's waist.
If we get out of this alive, Draco decided, I'll cast a Langlock jinx on him if he tells anyone about this, I don't care if he is the Chosen One…
Ahead of them, Draco was relieved to see Ginny and Luna soaring out of the doorway, away from the cursed fire. Ron and Hermione on Ron's Cleansweep were right behind them, Hermione holding on for dear life. Draco sagged with relief. They were going to make it after all, they were so close…
"What are you doing?" he shouted incredulously, tightening his grip on Potter's waist as he suddenly pointed the broom in a nosedive, heading down into the circling flames.
"Zabini!" Potter replied, pointing.
Sure enough, Zabini was curled up beside a busted table, apparently too overcome by the smoke and heat to realize he was only steps away from the door.
"You're going to get us killed!" Draco protested. "Leave him!"
Potter glared at him over the shoulder. "I can't leave him, Malfoy! Now hold on."
Draco closed his eyes as the floor rushed toward them. For once in his life, he was thankful Potter could out-fly him. Had Draco been steering the broom, he knew they would have been splattered on the floorboards, but Potter brought them to a neat stop inches from Zabini.
"Come on," he offered, holding out his hand.
In response, Zabini feebly lifted his wand. "Go to hell, Potter, and take Malfoy with you. Avada – "
"Stupefy!" Draco's spell cut Zabini's Killing Curse short. The dark-eyed boy slumped over, as the flames behind him rose up, becoming a giant, fork-tongued serpent slithering straight toward them.
"Get the diadem!" Draco shouted to Potter, who hesitated. "Stop being a bloody hero, Potter! You can't save him, it's too late!"
Reluctantly acknowledging the truth of Draco's words, Potter reached out, scooped the diadem up off the floor, and in a smooth, graceful motion that had made him one of the greatest Gryffindor Seekers of all time, shot cleanly through the doorway into the corridor.
Behind them, the Room of Hidden Things sealed itself shut, containing the blaze within.
Coughing, covered in soot and drenched in sweat, Potter and Draco climbed off the Firebolt as Luna, Ginny, Hermione and Weasley ran toward them from the other end of the hall. Luna flung her arms around Draco; he picked her up off the floor, pressing his grimy face into her soft curls.
"That was exciting," Luna remarked, when Draco put her back on her feet. She brushed his sweat-damp hair off his forehead, smiling brightly.
Draco snorted. "That's one word for it." He drew in a deep, steadying breath, willing his racing heart beat to slow. "Absolutely bloody terrifying might be another."
Arm-in-arm, they walked over to Potter, who was holding the half-charred diadem in his hands. The others stood in a loose circle around him.
As they all watched, the delicate tiara simply disintegrated in his hands.
"What the…?" Weasley gaped. He had an angry red blister on his cheek, and he looked as shaken as Draco felt.
Hermione answered, looking grim. "Fiendfyre – cursed fire. It's one of the substances that destroy Horcruxes, but I would never, ever dare use it. It's so dangerous."
"Obviously," Ginny remarked.
As a group, they turned and looked back at the Room of Hidden Things. Draco shuddered. He had sworn, the night Pansy Parkinson died, that he would kill Blaise Zabini one day. But he had to admit, not even Zabini had deserved to meet his end in such a gruesome way.
An explosion rocked the castle then, followed by several high-pitched screams, reminding them all that, though they had survived Zabini's Fiendfyre, a battle was still going on around them. "We have to go help," Ginny insisted, grabbing Potter's arm. "Before those two thugs got hold of me, I heard Neville say McGonagall and Flitwick were taking students up the Astronomy Tower, and Dad and Lupin and Kingsley were leading a group out onto the grounds. If we hurry, we can catch up to them."
Without warning, Potter suddenly staggered forward, clasping his hands to his forehead. Instinctively, Draco reached out and caught him before he could fall to the floor; Potter's body went rigid in his arms, almost like he was having a seizure.
"What's happening?" Draco demanded, looking from Hermione to Weasley.
"It's You-Know-Who," Hermione whispered. She sounded anguished. "Harry can see into his mind. Sometimes it just sort of happens, when You-Know-Who is really mad or upset or…"
"Or really happy," Weasley added ominously.
Draco lowered Potter to the floor, where they all knelt beside him. After a moment, Potter started to come around, his waxy cheeks slowly regaining some color.
For just a second, as Potter opened his eyes, Draco thought he caught a glimpse of the Dark Lord's livid, snake-like scarlet irises staring out from Potter's emerald green gaze. Draco shuddered involuntarily. Here he'd been thinking for seven years that Potter was some kind of do-gooder saint, when all along, he'd had a direct connection to the mind of the most evil wizard of all time.
Draco thought his Dark Mark repulsive, but there was no denying Potter's ability to see into Voldemort's mind was creepy on a whole new level.
"The Shrieking Shack," Potter declared weakly, sitting up. "He's in the Shrieking Shack. The snake's with him – he's got her encased in some kind of magical orb. And he…He's got Dumbledore's wand."
So it had happened at last: Voldemort had come to claim the Elder Wand.
Draco felt cold all over, as if his blood had turned to ice-water. Voldemort must have finally tracked down Gregorovitch, the old Bulgarian wandmaker, and learned the identity of the thief who had stolen the Elder Wand from him all those many years ago: Gellert Grindelwald. As everyone knew, Grindelwald had been defeated by Dumbledore, which meant the Elder Wand was at Hogwarts, encased inside Dumbledore's white tomb.
All Voldemort needed to do was come to the castle, which would have been a simple matter with Snape to clear away the school's magical defenses, and take the wand for himself.
As luck would have it – or maybe, Draco reflected, it truly was fate – Harry Potter had also come to Hogwarts this night, to destroy the Horcrux the Dark Lord had hidden there so many years ago.
Draco knew the Dark Lord would not pass up this opportunity. Now that he had the Elder Wand, he would want to end this war tonight. He would want to face Potter, to kill him, and to claim dominion over the wizarding world once and for all.
But Draco also knew the Dark Lord well enough to know he would not be taking any chances. He would want to confront the Chosen One secure in the knowledge that he and he alone was master of the Elder Wand. The only way to do that, of course, was for Voldemort to defeat the wizard who had killed Albus Dumbledore.
And to Voldemort, Draco knew, "defeat" would mean "kill."
"That's not all," Potter was saying, as if the revelation that Voldemort had stolen the Elder Wand from Dumbledore's grave wasn't hideous enough. His eyes met Draco's; he looked pained by what he was about to say, which only increased Draco's sense of dread.
"It's Snape. When he left here, he went to the Shrieking Shack and…He's dead. Voldemort just killed him."
The air left Draco's lungs in a painful rush, like he'd been punched in the gut. He rocked back on his heels, not caring for once that his grief was written all over his face.
There's no one left to protect me now. No parents. No Dumbledore. No Snape.
Draco had become surprisingly close to Snape over the past year. Snape hadn't been exactly fatherly – the paternal instinct just wasn't in him – but he had been an excellent teacher, a mentor, a guide and a confidante. Draco had come to realize that Severus Snape was a man of his word. He wasn't necessarily a good man (Draco wasn't sure he himself was a "good" man, in any traditional sense of the word), yet he was loyal, and true, and brave. Draco hadn't understood until that moment just how much he'd come to count on Snape being there to direct him, to explain to him Voldemort's motives, to help him find a way through the nightmarish maze that was the life of a spy.
Of course, Snape's death meant something more in their immediate circumstances: With Snape and Dumbledore both gone, it had fallen to Draco to tell Potter that he would have to die for their side to win.
"Why would he do that?" Weasley demanded. He looked more confused than grief-stricken, which made sense given that all of Potter's friends believed Snape was Voldemort's right-hand man. "Why would You-Know-Who kill Snape?"
Luna came to kneel beside Draco, slipping her arms around his neck, while Potter replied, "I saw them arguing. Voldemort thinks Snape knew Dumbledore had the Elder Wand all along. He thinks Snape betrayed him."
"He did," Draco declared quietly. Over Luna's shoulder, he met and held Potter's gaze. "Snape was never working for Voldemort. He was doing what I've been doing: spying on him, for Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix."
Potter looked away, clearly doubtful of that. But there wasn't time to argue. "I have to go out there," he announced. Ginny started to protest, but Potter cut her off. "I don't have a choice, Ginny."
"Why?" she wanted to know. Her eyes blazed. "Why do you have to face him, right this instant, on your own?"
"Because he has to find the snake," Draco answered for Potter, who grated an irritated glance his way, though he didn't deny it. "Isn't that what you've got to do, Potter? Kill the snake?"
"It's the last Horcrux," Potter murmured, more to himself than to any of them. "If I kill the snake, it's over. Voldemort won't be invincible anymore."
Inwardly, Draco winced. How he wished that were true. How he wished the story could have a happy ending, but he knew, deep down, that it couldn't.
Not for Potter, and not for him. Up until that moment, Draco had thought he might make it out of this alive after all. But now that Voldemort had come for the Elder Wand, Draco understood that wasn't going to be the way of it.
Maybe Dumbledore had foreseen how it would all end. Maybe he had known from the beginning Draco would be the one who would have to tell Potter his fate, and that the only way Potter would believe him, because of all the reasons Draco had given the Chosen One not to trust him, was for Draco to show Potter the depth of his conviction by sacrificing himself as well.
Even if Dumbledore hadn't possessed that kind of foresight, it didn't change what Draco had to do. In the end, Potter had to face Voldemort, and Voldemort would not seek out that final confrontation until he was certain the Elder Wand was his to wield.
Draco had to die for Potter to complete his mission, because as master of the Elder Wand, he had to allow Voldemort to defeat him. He had to deceive the Dark Lord one final time, convince him that he could not lose against the Chosen One.
When I'm dead, the power of the Elder Wand dies with me. Voldemort can kill me, but he won't become the Wand's master.
Draco was certain of one thing: The Elder Wand could no longer be ruled by violence, only by love. And since love was something Voldemort could never, ever feel, the Elder Wand would never serve him.
"I'm coming with you."
Potter opened his mouth to protest, but Draco held up a hand. "If you're going to get to the snake, you're going to need somebody to distract Voldemort."
"I can do that," Weasley put in bravely.
Draco snorted derisively. "You wouldn't be a 'distraction' to the Dark Lord, Weasley – you'd be an appetizer for Nagini." To Potter, he insisted, "The Dark Lord believes I'm on his side. I can get close to him, keep him talking, while you find a way to get to the snake."
Another gigantic explosion rocked the castle. "Whatever we're doing," Hermione spoke up, her voice trembling, "we have to decide. I don't know how much longer our defenses can hold."
The reminder that people were dying all around them spurred Potter to action. "All right," he agreed, looking resigned. He turned to Weasley, and Hermione, promising them, "We'll be back. But if something happens," he added, "remember, you have to kill the snake."
"We won't let you down, Harry," Hermione vowed. She stepped toward him, reaching out to run her fingers tenderly along Potter's cheek. They stared hard into one another's eyes for a long moment.
Draco saw Ginny look away, though she didn't try to come between them.
"Just be careful," Hermione finally said, dropping her gaze.
Weasley came forward, slipping his fingers through Hermione's as he pulled Potter into a brief, one-armed hug. "Look after yourself, mate."
While Potter said his goodbyes, Draco turned to Luna, wondering exactly how he was supposed to walk away from her when he knew neither he nor Potter would be coming back. But Luna shook her head before he could open his mouth. "I'm coming too," she announced, so authoritatively it never occurred to any of them to argue with her.
"You'll need your cloak," Draco told Potter, who produced the Invisibility Cloak from his pocket. As Voldemort's heir, Draco could walk across enemy lines fearlessly; Potter and Luna, however, would need to stay out of sight.
Hermione and Ginny hugged Draco. He tried not to let on that he knew this was it, the final goodbye; he didn't want them to stop him or Potter from doing what they had to do now.
Still, it was hard not to hold on a bit longer to each of them than was strictly necessary.
"Take care of him," Ginny whispered in Draco's ear.
Draco didn't answer. He couldn't make that promise; he could only hope Ginny, Hermione and Weasley would understand why one day.
Had it not been for the giants storming through the Forest, the Acromantulas scaling the castle walls, the explosions shattering the darkness, the Dementors circling overhead, and the Death Eaters rushing about in search of victims, it would have been a nice night for a walk.
Draco led the way toward the Whomping Willow. How would have felt odd talking to Potter and Luna under the Invisibility Cloak, except as master of the Elder Wand, he could see them.
The Death Eaters around the castle didn't challenge Draco as he made his way into the Forest, seemingly alone. He could feel the Dementors sapping the warmth and happiness out of the air around him; as they moved under the cover of the trees, away from the battle, Draco felt his steps slowing, his feet turning to lead.
"Expecto Patronum," Luna murmured. A silver hare danced in front of her underneath the Invisibility Cloak, its power radiating outward, warding off the Dementors swooping through the treetops.
As they walked deeper into the Forest, the sounds of battle died behind them. Only then, when they were sure not to be overheard, did Draco recount for Potter what Snape had shared with him: Dumbledore's theory that on the night James and Lily Potter had died, Voldemort had inadvertently passed a part of his soul to their infant son when Lily's sacrifice had caused the Dark Lord's Killing Curse to rebound on him.
Potter froze. Luna bumped into him from behind, her Patronus vanishing.
"So you're telling me," Potter said slowly, "that I'm a Horcrux?"
Draco concentrated on smoothing all emotion out of his expression. Despite what they had just gone through together in the Room of Hidden Things, Draco knew Potter still harbored serious doubts about his true loyalties. Doubts that didn't make telling him Dumbledore had known all along his golden boy would have to die any easier.
"Think about it, Potter," Draco reasoned. "Didn't you ever wonder why you could see into Voldemort's mind, or why you could both talk to snakes? Didn't you ever find it a bit odd that you would share that sort of connection? Did you never wonder why you would have the power to kill the Dark Lord, when even Dumbledore couldn't?"
Potter scuffed the toe of his shoe along the ground. "I-I guess I thought…"
Draco felt an overwhelming surge of pity for Potter then. He could well imagine what Potter had thought, because Dumbledore had led him to believe it: that he was special, gifted, powerful. The damnable part was, Potter was all of those things. Yet those qualities, admirable though they were, weren't what made him the Chosen One.
"What really matters," Draco told Potter quietly, completely unself-conscious about the compliment he was about to pay his old enemy, "isn't how you and Voldemort are alike. It's how you're different. You know what it means to love."
Potter glanced up at him sharply, as if Draco were repeating words he'd heard before. Seeing his advantage, Draco pressed, "Dumbledore understood that. He knew, in the end, you'd be willing to sacrifice yourself to see Voldemort finished."
Green eyes dark with emotion, Potter lifted his chin defiantly. "Why should I believe you, Malfoy? How do I know this isn't just another trap?"
Draco stiffened. Having just demonstrated the depth of his respect for Potter, he was stung by the realization – though he should have known to expect it – that Potter still didn't trust him.
"Right," he shot back sarcastically, his temper flaring. "This has all been one huge lie. I spent the last two years getting close to you, let Voldemort murder my parents, nearly died myself fighting Greyback, all so I could convince you to surrender. Because obviously there's no other way Voldemort could kill you unless you give yourself up."
Potter's scowl deepened. "I trusted you before," he reminded Draco coldly. "I won't make the same mistake again."
Refusing to let on how much that particular jibe hurt, calling to mind as it did the horrible scene of Dumbledore's death, Draco ordered himself to calm down. Arguing with Potter was obviously not going to work. He supposed, if he looked at the situation objectively, Potter had every right to be angry with him, if for no other reason than that Draco hadn't been honest with him about what Dumbledore had asked him to do.
One way or another, Draco had to find a way to make Potter believe him. Since he didn't have the luxury of months to prove himself, as he'd had with Ginny and Longbottom, Draco seized the only other option left to him.
He told the truth.
"You're not the only one who isn't getting out of this alive, Potter." Draco spoke softly, yet his words seemed to echo in the air around them. "I have something Voldemort wants, remember? Something he's convinced he needs before he faces you again."
Draco watched understanding dawn on Luna a moment before Potter figured out Draco's riddle. Her topaz eyes widened. In one fluid motion, she cast off the Invisibility Cloak, stepped around Potter, and wrapped her arms tightly around Draco.
"Do you have to?" she whispered in his ear.
Draco saw Potter look away, though he could have cared less if their embrace made the Chosen One uncomfortable. "Yes," he whispered back. "It's the only way, love. I have to let Voldemort kill me."
"Were you going to tell me?"
Smiling sheepishly, Draco gently kissed her temple. "No," he admitted.
"Still trying to protect me," Luna chided. She tipped her head back so she was looking up into his eyes. "I'm not that fragile, you know."
Acknowledging the truth of that with a crooked smile, Draco dipped his head and kissed her tenderly. "Forgive me?" he asked, resting his forehead against hers.
"Of course." Luna managed a bright smile, even as a single tear slipped down her cheek. "I'm proud of you for being such a good friend to Harry."
Draco thought it might all have been worth it, every moment of pain and suffering over the past two years, to hear Luna say she was proud of him.
He slipped his arm around her waist. Together, they turned to face Potter, whose expression was caught somewhere between chagrined and terrified.
"You're really just going to walk in there and let Voldemort kill you?" he asked dubiously.
"I'm open to other ideas," Draco returned lightly. "But I don't see how Voldemort would ever consent to fight you directly unless he believes the Elder Wand is his."
"Won't it be?" Potter pressed, frowning. "If he kills you, doesn't that make him the wand's master?"
"Not anymore. Dumbledore wasn't defeated," Draco reminded him. "He surrendered. I can't explain how I know this, but I know the Elder Wand can't be taken by force any longer. Lucky for us," he added, "Voldemort doesn't know that. And he wouldn't believe it anyway. He doesn't put much stock in love."
A long silence followed, broken by screams and explosions from the castle. The sounds of battle seemed to jar Potter from his private reverie. Frowning with determination, he declared, "All right. If it's the only way, then let's get it over with."
"You have to kill the snake first if you can, don't forget that," Draco put in, as Luna picked up the Cloak where Potter had dropped it on the grass and slipped back under it. "I'll try to buy you some time, but it might not be more than a minute or two."
Potter nodded. An awkward moment ensued in which neither of them knew quite what to say to one another.
How do you thank somebody for dying for you? Draco wondered. How do you apologize for all that's happened?
In the end, Draco stuck out his hand, and Potter took it. "For the greater good," Draco offered.
Potter smiled back thinly. "For the greater good."
