***I just wanted to remind you guys that this fic will have a Happy Ending. So don't kill me before we get there ;-)***

Harry's vague plans of thwarting Voldemort fled his mind, and he threw himself in front of Draco, straight into a lightning bolt of lurid green.

He died with Draco's name on his lips.

Draco POV

There was absolute silence for a handful of breaths, and then the Great Hall exploded into shouts and confusion. Draco ignored all of it, his entire being focused intensely on the Boy-Who-Lived-No-More. On the Stupid-Git-Who-Died-For-Draco. On the Boy-He-Loved. Draco knew his father would try again, but he didn't care. He thought he might even welcome it – welcome the killing curse, if it meant the chance to be with Harry again.

Then, suddenly, Hermione was at his side, firing off hexes and protecting Draco's back. "God dammit, Draco!" she shouted, "You can't give up now! Are you really going to throw away the life he just died to give you?"

Draco didn't know what he intended to reply, but whatever he might have said was lost in the deafening shout of one of the Weasley twins. Whichever one it is, he must have cast a sonorous on himself, Draco thought fuzzily. Not even the Weasley twins are that loud.

"Luna! Now!"

As the shout reverberated around the Great Hall, bouncing and echoing and deafening everyone without the forethought to clap their hands over their ears, Luna blew a blast on some demented whistle, whose shrill voice couldn't be kept out even with a silencing charm. Suddenly, the room was swarming with hundreds upon thousands of chocolate frogs.

There were startled screams and shouts, and more than one hysterical laugh, abruptly and mysteriously silenced. Draco glanced at Voldemort, trapped at the center of his own private chocolate hurricane, and felt the corners of his mouth twitch.

Pansy and Luna picked their way over to where he knelt beside Harry's body, ignoring the chaos surrounding them.

"Well," Luna said cheerfully, ignoring the blood that streaked her face and matted her hair, "that was surprisingly effective."

"What in Salazar's name is the meaning of this?" Voldemort roared. He hissed something in parsletongue, and all the chocolate frogs burst at once, showering everyone in the Great Hall in melted chocolate.

Luna's finger shot out and wiped a stripe down Hermione's nose. She stuck it in her mouth, considering. "Mmmm. Dark chocolate. My favorite."

Draco looked up at the glowering, candy-coated Dark Chocolate Lord, and felt himself convulse with hysterical laughter that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside and would not be contained.

Voldemort's eyes, which had been angrily sweeping across the room, fastened on Draco. "YOU!" he spat. "You did this. You little blood-traitor."

Draco gazed impassively at him, letting the slur slide off him like water. "Yes," he said. "I did." He spoke quietly, but in the heavy silence, broken only by occasional drips of chocolate hitting the floor, his words carried easily to every listening ear. He stood up, a languid unfolding of his limbs that he knew was graceful and elegant.

Voldemort seethed. "I should have gotten rid of you when I had the chance. You were always sniveling around the edges of your father's Manor, whining and cringing and refusing to act as a Death Eater should. I let your father convince me to give you chance after chance, and this is how you repay me?" Voldemort sneered. "Tell me, Lucius. Do you object to me killing your son now?"

All eyes turned to Lucius Malfoy, poised and elegant even under a layer of chocolate, trademark sneer painted on his face. "No, my Lord," he said softly. "I have no son." He never once met Draco's eyes.

"Excellent." Voldemort grinned at Draco. "Now, how should I take care of you, you miserable worm? Ah. I know." He leveled his wand at Draco's heart. Draco didn't flinch. "Brave, are we? Well. Let's see if you face Death with the same aplomb." Through the green glow of the killing curse, out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Hermione and Luna reaching toward him.

He kept his eyes open, not wanting to grant Voldemort even that small victory, and so he was one of the first to see it happen.

Voldemort slashed his wand toward Draco, shouted "Avada Kedavra!" But instead of the green glow turning into a burst of green light that would cleave his soul from his body, Draco saw the glow wink out, and a scroll slowly unfurl from the end of the wand.

A scroll that read, in letters the color of the killing curse's light, 'Moldy Voldy's getting Old-y'

Well, I'll be damned, he thought, amazed, she did it.

The Great Hall was deathly silent as everyone read the banner, those whose eyes were still closed, or who had turned away, swiftly nudged and prodded by their friends until they turned back.

And Draco laughed. He let the waves of manic, slightly-unhinged laughter roll through him, buffet him, bear him away.

"Draco?" Ginny appeared, suddenly, at his side, Voldemort's wand in her hand. She looked at him worriedly, but he couldn't stop laughing long enough to reassure her that he was all right.

Ginny bit her lip, then turned to Hermione, Luna, and Pansy. "On three?"

The other girls nodded grimly and raised their wands. And then, as Draco watched, four identical sickly-green bursts of light shot past him, two on either side, and merged as they homed in on the astonished, chocolate covered man on the stage. Voldemort began to raise the wand in his hand, staring blankly out over the room, then his shoulders slumped, and he let it fall.

He didn't even try to fight it, that quadruple killing curse. He simply watched it come. No one moved as the four spells hit him simultaneously, bathing the room in a burst of green light so bright, they all had to close their eyes. When they opened them again, Voldemort's body lay crumpled, unmoving on the dais.

A terrible wail went up, as the remaining Death Eaters mourned the death of their lord. For good, this time, Draco realized. Harry – the final Horcrux – had died, and with him, Voldemort's chances of resurrection. He thought he should feel more, now that the threat hanging over him since he'd been born was gone for good. Thought he should feel something, anything. But he stood, staring at the body on the stage. Trying not to think about the body by his feet.

It hit him, then. That Harry was gone – never to return. That he, Draco, would have to spend the rest of his life without Harry. That he wasn't sure he could do that. He wondered, idly, what would happen to his parents, now. What they would do. Then he snorted. He knew the first thing they would do. They would come after him, and his friends, for having the audacity to stand up to their Dark Lord. For having the audacity to win.

He stared into the bleak, empty, uncertain future that stretched ahead of him, and he didn't think he could stand it. He let himself slump, boneless, against Harry's body, let the wave of grief crash over him. He begged oblivion to take him away.

He heard his name shouted, as if from a great distance, and slowly blinked open one eye. Hermione was calling him frantically as she battled with a Death Eater.

"Draco! Draco, listen to me! You can't give up yet! We're not done, here. Draco!"

He groggily tried to stand, but his limbs felt like they were made of lead, or possibly molasses. He couldn't seem to figure out how to make them work. Then he saw his father, glaring down at him, his mother beside him. Their faces were cold, hard, and slightly crazed. Their wands were pointed at his heart.

Draco stared up at them, uncomprehending. His mother and father were pointing their wands at him, faces contorted with hate and grief. He couldn't make the pieces fit.

Draco thought of his wand, lying beside him. He should probably pick it up. Yes. That might be a good idea. Then he should probably do something with it. He wasn't sure what, but there were two wands pointing at him, and his parents didn't look like they wanted to help.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!"

Twin bursts of green light shot over Draco's head, hitting his parents squarely in their chests.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's brain helpfully supplied. Mother and Father. Servants to the Dark Lord. Dead.

They crumpled, one on either side of him. Lucius' pale hair splayed over Draco's wrist. Over his Dark Mark. Draco wondered if he should do something about it.

Mother and Father. Voldemort. Harry.

Draco closed his eyes.