Chapter 36

"You don't have to do this, Draco," Harry's voice wavered, unsure if this was still part of the plan or if he was really reduced to bargaining for his life. From Draco Malfoy, of all of the people in the room. Should he play along?

The other death eaters had settled into a circle around them, some of them looking gleeful at the prospect of being entertained by his death. Harry figured they'd probably been waiting a long time for another moment like this. The least he could do was give them a good show.

"Harry," Draco's voice was a tight whisper, "I am sorry."

Harry watched as he straightened his collar, adjusted his shirt sleeves, and ran a hand through his hair. "Draco, we're not going to-"

But Draco was bowing, his eyes never leaving Harry's. He tried hard to read him, to get any inkling as to how the other boy was really feeling, but there was nothing. He glanced at Snape's crumpled form, still lying on the floor. Was that it? Was the binding over? Harry was a tiny bit surprised that he still felt the same amount of love as he had before this had all started. Maybe even more. His chest ached with it. And now they were here. About to duel each other to the death.

"Don't keep us waiting, Harry," Voldemort called, his tone of voice sounding like he was an old friend.

Harry bowed back, holding Draco's silver eyes with his own.

Draco's movement was all fluid grace, like a fencer, and suddenly a stunning spell was coming straight for him. He dodged out of the way, groaning as he rolled on his already hurt shoulder.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted as he returned fire, not knowing what to expect, the magic pouring from his fingertips feeling hot.

Draco cried out as he was knocked back, spinning, into a pillar.

Harry got to his feet, his mind catching up to his instinctive reactions. He thought it would be relatively harmless. But Draco didn't have a wand. What happened when you tried to disarm someone who didn't have a weapon?

Draco wasn't getting up. Now that he was paying attention, there seemed to be too much blood on the floor. Things seemed to be happening much faster than his thoughts could make sense of. He followed the trail of it to where his fiance sat at a crooked angle, his pale hair falling across his eyes. Draco was holding his right arm in front of him, blood pouring from his wrist. From where his hand used to be. His face was chalk white, his grey eyes panicked, wide, disbelieving. "Harry?" he murmured.

Harry saw Lucius Malfoy rush forward, only to be blocked by the Dark Lord. "Let them finish," he growled.

"My son," Lucius started.

"Is alive. For now," Voldemort's harsh voice seemed far away.

Harry ran to Draco, duels be damned, Dark Lords be damned, and slid on his knees next to him. He tried to ignore the wet feeling soaking through to his knees. "Draco, I didn't mean to, I swear," Harry breathed.

Draco's teeth were clenched, his breathing was fast, his face ghastly. "I wasn't.. really going to kill you, love."

"I- I know," Harry stammered, even though he didn't, "I- I-"

"My hand," Draco's voice was getting quiet and low, his teeth were chattering. A fine sheen of sweat covered his face and neck. "Heal me."

"But-"

"Harry..please."

Harry looked around and saw something pale sitting in a pool of blood a short distance away. He knew those long pale fingers so well by now, but seeing them detached from the person he loved sent his stomach roiling. He swallowed hard, picked it up gingerly, and turned back to Draco. His eyes were closed.

"Shit, shit, Draco," he shook him gently by a shoulder. "Wake up, stay with me. I've got you."

Draco's pale eyes fluttered open, but barely. "Why did you do that, Potter?" Draco's voice was a low drawl and sleepy sounding. It reminded Harry of what he sounded like when he was drunk.

"Harry," Voldemort's lilting voice reached his ears. "I don't know if you know this, but now is the time to finish the duel, my boy. Your opponent is down. If you kill him, I'll let you be my general instead."

Harry ignored the laughs and jeers from the only adults in the room and was trying to find a way to put Draco back together. He held Draco's hand in one hand and his wrist in the other. He glanced up at Draco who was wide awake now, his jaw muscles tight, his grey eyes burning into Harry's soul.

"Any suggestions?" He said lightly.

"Harry," Draco growled.

Harry tried bringing the hand and wrist closer together, hoping the warmth would make an appearance before they touched. He felt like throwing up. Harry felt something, a faint glimmer of what the warmth used to be. He felt his magic, the heat from his fingertips, start to seep into Draco's hand and wrist but it wasn't enough.

"More, Harry."

"I don't know-" Harry stammered, attempting to force his will into the binding that no longer bound them. He felt the first needlepoints of panic start to nip in at the edges of his psyche.

Harry looked up as he heard an audible, dramatic sigh from Voldemort. "I tire of this Harry. You can't save everyone, you know." The man that used to be Tom Riddle turned his back, facing his followers. "Kill them both."

"No, you can't!" Lucius Malfoy was saying.

"Father," Draco called, his voice barely audible.

"I can, Lucius, and I will. I've tolerated your insolence for too long."

Harry grabbed Draco under the arms and pulled him around the back side of the pillar as spells started raining down around them.

"Harry," Draco growled through clenched teeth.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"You have to.." But Draco's voice was only a strangled whisper.

"What, Draco? Draco?" Draco's eyes were closed again, his face sweaty and pallid.

Harry clenched his teeth, trying to make his brain work. Could he kill a room full of death eaters and Voldemort? Could he do it to protect someone he loved? He figured it didn't matter much; he couldn't see another way around. He placed Draco's hand in his lap. It was bizarre, but he didn't know what else to do with it. He put his forehead to Draco's clammy one. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his eyes starting to sting. "I won't let you die. I love you."

He wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve, took a couple of deep breaths, and emerged from his cover behind the pillar. He missed his wand. He tried to be like Draco, cool and stoic, confident and powerful. He was focused, calm. He'd done this before, he could do it now.

Spells were coming from every direction, it seemed. Harry waved a hand, batting them away, only a little surprised that it actually worked. "Expelliarmus!" He shouted, disarming a couple of wizards who were standing too close together, blasting them into the stone wall. They fell in a heap and didn't move.

Bellatrix Lestrange lunged at him from behind another pillar, her wand dangerously close to his face. He ducked underneath her outstretched arm and punched her, as hard as he could, square in the stomach. She doubled over, then fell to the floor, her breath coming in angry retches.

Three down, three to go. Harry's head was filled with too many thoughts. Draco's health, his godamn hand, what were they doing to do? Should he take action against Lucius Malfoy? How serious was he about joining this family? Could he kill his future father-in-law? Would he stand by while Harry killed Voldemort? Because that was the only sure thought in his head, that he had to do it. The odds weren't as good as they were when Draco was on his side, but they were good enough, he supposed.

There was a gentle, almost ringing, whip-like crack and the spells suddenly stopped flying.

A strange silence fell. The only noise Harry could hear was his shoes on the tiled floor, making a slight squeaking sound as his feet kept carrying him forward. He was ready. Whatever this distraction was, he would use it to his advantage. He locked eyes with Lucius Malfoy and saw the hatred there, the fear. But his pale eyes flicked to something, or someone, behind Harry, and his face softened.

Harry felt cool fingers grip his wrist gently. His heart soared; the warmth wasn't there, but there was only one person here with fingers that cold.

"Narcissa?" Lucius' normally harsh voice was a disbelieving whisper.

Harry snapped his head around. It was Draco's mother, just as she was in his dream, tall and beautiful, dressed in white. Her eyes were rimmed in shadow and she looked gaunt, malnourished, maybe, but her dark eyes were clear and purposeful.

"Lucius," she whispered back and Harry wished he couldn't hear the longing in her voice. There was enough going on already.

Movement, to the left. Harry's eyes landed on the Dark Lord, his wand raised, and for the second time in one day, he saw the signature green of the killing curse coming towards him. He pulled Narcissa back, out of danger, around the pillar next to Draco's limp body. The curse hit the pillar making pieces of plaster and rubble rain down around them.

"My son.." Her voice no longer sounded like tinkling bells and Harry missed it.

"Mrs Malfoy, I-"

"Please, Harry, there's no time," she held out her hand to him. "You and Draco shared your magic with me, let me give some back. Maybe it will be enough." She smiled that sad smile.

Harry took her hand in one of his and with the other he held Draco's detached hand. She placed her hand gently on Draco's wrist.

Harry gasped as he felt the warmth again- but how? He felt the magic flowing through him, hot then cold, cold then hot, just as it was before, and then, too soon it seemed, it was done. Harry looked down.

The healing spell didn't work.

He thought Draco's hand would reattach, that everything would be fine, that this would even be something they could laugh about later. Draco's arm had healed, the bleeding had stopped, and Draco didn't look quite so bad as before, but Harry still held the disembodied hand. He was suddenly self-conscious. He placed the hand gingerly on the ground, removing the Malfoy crested ring that Draco wore there, slipping it onto his thumb.

"He'll be okay," Narcissa said. His eyes were still closed, and he was breathing shallowly. She was smoothing Draco's hair away from his forehead. She placed a kiss there that made Harry's chest ache. "Will you kill him?" She asked.

"Of course not, Mrs Malfoy, I love him." He felt his face flush with embarrassment. The words had just tumbled out of him.

"Not him," she smiled her sad smile, "the Dark Lord."

"Oh, right. Yes."

She nodded once. "Good. I will do all that is in my power to help you. Do you remember what I told you about the dream world?"

Harry did. "That Voldemort can be weakened there."

"I will help you get him there." She rose to her feet. Harry shakily did the same. After two healing spells and a few duels, he was feeling..tired. Beyond tired. He was amazed his legs held him upright.

"But how will I-"

"Narcissa, my dear, how was your sleep?" Harry would be glad when he never had to hear Voldemort's voice again.

Narcissa touched Harry's left hand, then Draco's.

"He's loved you for so long, my dear," Narcissa's voice was quiet, not much more than a whisper. "Please, take care of him."

Harry could only nod. His brain felt packed to the rim.

When she spoke again, her voice was strong and sure. "I, Narcissa Malfoy, recognize and legitimize this engagement."

There was a brief glow from Harry's ring, the ring Draco had placed on his finger. He watched in astonishment.

"It'll get you close, Harry, as long as my son lives and breathes, the Malfoys will protect you. You must put him to sleep, face him there. Draco will be there, waiting for you, I'm sure." Narcissa was talking fast and Harry was struggling to keep up. He had so many questions, but their time was up.

Narcissa led Harry away from the pillar, walking slowly towards her husband. Lucius Malfoy still looked like he was staring at a ghost.

"Narcissa, you're- you're-"

"Alive?" She said, her ringing voice held a challenge.

"Awake," he said sharply. "I never meant to-"

"Of course you didn't. You never meant to do anything, did you, Luce?"

He actually winced at the nickname.

Voldemort started clapping, slow and loud. "All reconciled? Good, good. Bellatrix? Please subdue our unexpected guest. Lucius, please do what no one else could and kill Harry Potter. Now."

Bellatrix was behind them suddenly; she grabbed Narcissa around the shoulders, her curly wand pointing at her sister's neck. "Hello Cissy," she growled.

Harry moved to do..something, anything, but Draco's mother waved him down. "Just wait," she whispered.

Lucius hesitated, looking from Harry back to the Dark Lord.

"Do you not value your life, Lucius? The life of your son? Your wife? Well, maybe not your wife, but still."

Narcissa scoffed quietly.

Lucius raised his cane and unsheathed his wand with a metallic whisper, a promise of violence. Harry had seen it before. Lucius pointed his blunt wand at Harry's chest, but his wand wavered. Sweat broke out on his forehead. It looked as if some unseen force was pushing his wand down and he was trying with all his might to hold it back up. His face was a mask of rage and effort.

"Narcissa," he growled, "what have you done?!"

Mrs. Malfoy smirked. "He is protected, now, my love."

"With our family's magic?! But, this means-" His voice was low and dangerous. His silver eyes flicked worriedly from his wife to his master. "My Lord, I can't.."

Voldemort sighed. He, too, pointed his wand at Harry. He wondered how far this "protection" would go. Would it stop the most powerful dark wizard of all time? He knew they were an ancient wizarding family, but could they have that sort of power?

"Avada," the Dark Lord started.

Harry watched with wide eyes as Lucius Malfoy quickly moved in front of him, a human shield.

"No," Harry whispered.

"Kedavra!"

"I'm sorry," Lucius Malfoy said his last words looking into Harry's eyes, but somehow, he didn't think they were meant for him, as the green blast hit him instead of Harry.

"Lucius!" Mrs Malfoy's voice sounded far away and slow. Harry felt like he should be waking up from this bizarre dream any moment. Lucius Malfoy gave his life for his. He felt like he was underwater. Everything was moving so slowly.

Bellatrix was laughing her crazy laugh.

Mrs Malfoy was screaming something, but Harry couldn't make out the words.

Everything was too quiet. Too loud. Too fast. Too slow.

Voldemort looked equal parts annoyed and joyous, his lipless sneer finding Harry.

Someone should do something.

Lucius Malfoy was on the floor at Harry's feet, his pale eyes, too much like Draco's eyes, wide and unblinking.

Everything seemed to suddenly speed up all at once.

"Harry, now! You must touch him!" Narcissa was still screaming at him. Bellatrix was trying to hold onto her sister, but she was putting up a fight. Harry saw her blonde head whip backward, slamming into Bellatrix's face. Bellatrix let her go, gasping, but Narcissa was on her again.

Harry saw the other Death Eaters he had knocked out start to stir and get to their feet. It was now or never. He gritted his teeth and ran towards the man he was meant to kill.

Voldemort laughed, a strange high and low-pitched twanging chuckle.

"Come now Harry," he called in his lilting, faux-friendly voice. "Can't you just face me?"

Harry dodged a bolt of green lighting, rolling out of the way. "I am facing you," he growled.

"Without your bindings and your protections?" He spat the words as if they were curses. "Just you and me, Harry."

"None of this was my choice!" He yelled as he dove behind a massive pillar.

"Ah, choice. What an idea," the Dark Lord crooned. "It may be too late for your parents, for your boyfriend, definitely for your boyfriend's father, but it's not too late for you. I can tell you've considered it, Harry. I know your mind!"

Harry had considered it, if he was completely honest. He had thought about the deals he could strike, the good he could do from the inside. It had been a very short thought, but there all the same. He knew, however, that would be the easy way out. He knew how it had to end.

Harry shook his head. He had to get closer. A sleeping spell, he knew, was relatively weak, but if he could touch him and then deliver the spell, it had a much higher chance of working. That must be what Mrs Malfoy meant. If he had his wand, he was sure his aim would be better; he wasn't as good as Draco with wandless magic. Draco. His heart caught in his throat and there was a sudden weight in his chest. Even if he made it through all of this..but he couldn't think that far ahead. He couldn't let himself. His weird laugh even failed to make an appearance.

Suddenly his head was filled with images of Draco dying from his wounds, of Draco mourning his parents' death, of Draco blaming him for everything. Of Draco leaving him.

"I can help him, Harry." Voldemort's voice was low and surreptitious. "I can heal him, make your lover new again."

Harry shut his eyes tight, willing the Dark Lord's images away.

"After all, how good can he be without his right hand? What a pity."

Images of him and Draco being intimate flooded his mind's eye. An image of Draco touching his face just like he used to, but a truncated stump was stroking his jawline instead of long cool fingers. An image of Harry reaching for his lover's hand and finding nothing there. An image of Draco undoing his pants with one hand and reaching for-

"That's enough!" Harry yelled.

"Then make your choice!"

Harry did. He knew it from the beginning. He kissed the silver ring on his left hand and whispered, "See you soon." He flexed the fingers of his right hand, testing the power there. He was shocked to feel it answer back. So that was why Draco was always doing that. Harry felt his mouth curl into a smirk.

Harry pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and ran, full out, towards the last place he heard Voldemort's annoying voice.

"Ah, yes, that's more like it, Harry!"

Voldemort threw another green lightning bolt of death at him, and Harry knocked it away with a wave of his hand. If the Dark Lord was surprised, he didn't show it.

"Crucio!"

"Protego!" Harry yelled, using the shield to close the last little bit of distance between him and his nemesis.

Harry grabbed Voldemort's sickly white wrist. It felt strange and fragile, like a chicken wing. Harry expected it to feel strong. His surprise must've shown on his face because the Dark Lord grinned at him, all sickly teeth and no lips. Harry looked into his snake-like eyes. "Somnium maxima," he murmured.

Nothing happened.

"Somnium maxima!" he shouted in Voldemort's face.

Again, nothing happened.

The Dark Lord let out a small chuckle.

"I know what you're doing, boy," he whispered, "do you think I wouldn't safeguard myself against my own tricks?" With his other hand, he gripped the front of Harry's hoodie, raising him off the floor. His feet kicked feebly at the air.

"You're strong for an old man," Harry smirked, trying to hide his dismay at being caught.

"Yes," Voldemort breathed, "and where you would be without my power? Without my binding? You'd be nothing without me."

"It was my mother," Harry growled back, "You tried to kill me."

"Ah, so I did. And have been ever since. Last chance, Harry, it ends here."

"You're right, Tom, it ends here."

And Harry raised his right hand just as Voldemort raised his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" They said in unison, their voices echoing in the strangely empty space.

Harry's hand burned. It felt like his fingertips were on fire; he still didn't believe it had worked. He squinted his eyes as the killing curses met in a ball of green lightning. A sudden wind whipped at his face and hair. Harry's eyes widened as the curse ball grew larger and larger. He knew if he let go, he would be blasted with his own curse as well as Voldemort's. He felt the Dark Lord release him and he staggered back, grunting, trying to pour more magic into the curse, but he could feel it waning. There just wasn't any more left inside of him.

Green sparks and smaller lightning bolts were shooting from the turbulent ball in front of him. Harry glanced at Narcissa and Bellatrix from the corner of his eye. The sisters were still fighting; Draco's mother was shooting spells with a fluid grace reserved for a dancer, all while dodging the minor killing curses. Harry looked for signs of Draco, but there were none. He hoped that meant he was safe enough.

Voldemort made a snake-like sigh and the ball of killing curses grew larger still. Harry held on, not knowing what else to do. It felt like it was getting closer. It felt like he had to push it back, so he did. He ground his teeth together and used both hands to push the dangerous chunk of magic towards Voldemort. It was a dance they've done before; seeing who would be the first to break, but this time would be the last. Harry had to make sure it was so.

He closed his eyes then closed his fists, and in one swift motion, he pulled the sickly-green curse-ball towards the floor.

"No!" Voldemort cried.

It hit the stone tile of the Malfoy Manor foyer with a deafening silence. Harry didn't have time to be surprised, however, as a sonic boom resounded through the large space. Hot acrid air hit Harry in a single blast. The threshold of Malfoy Manor sighed and shifted, ballooning upwards like they were all standing on a hill, then caving inwards like a bowl.

Harry jumped as a huge marble pillar crashed down just behind him. Draco's words echoed dully through his head, what was it? Something about him bringing his family's legacy crashing to its knees? A wild laugh spluttered its way out of him.

He tried to keep his balance as the floor heaved and shifted again. It bowed, dangerously low, and this time, it started to crack. His eyes found Voldemort, on the other side, trying to stay on his feet as well, an angry look on his face. Harry grinned. He guessed he would get to see the dungeons after all.

He raised both hands and pushed them down, the floor giving him a satisfying cracking explosion as chunks of it fell into the dungeons below. He was still grinning as he felt the floor give way beneath him.