Ch. 19 - Once More

The scene was unlike anything Draco had ever laid eyes on. The mass of people, all in various states of shock and grief, huddled together in their brokenness, staring down at the triumphant Death Eaters. He could hear laughter from the dark crowd, and felt his resolve solidify in his chest as he watched Neville move forward.

By the time he'd had time to process this, Draco realized that Neville was already pushing his way through the crowd. Draco slipped around the back, crouching down and listening silently, his heart pounding. He heard a bang, and a flash of light briefly accented the shadows on the ground. Neville. The evil voice was laughing, and Draco heard a clatter that reminded him distinctly of the sound of a wand hitting stone.

"And who is this?" Voldemort asked in a snake's hiss. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to defy me when all hope is lost?"

Draco heard a new voice as he moved around the crowd, trying to get an angle on the scene. He recognized it as the voice of his aunt, and felt a renewed stab of fury as he remembered what she had done to Hermione.

"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the aurors, remember?"

Draco had now made his way behind a large pile of rubble on the side of the crowd. Peering out, he felt a surge of relief to see that not only was Neville alive, the Death Eaters appeared wholly focused on the spectacle in front of them. None had noticed Draco's presence behind the rock pile. Draco scanned the groups, looking for weak points, searching for possible ways to get Neville out.

That's when he saw it.

Harry had been shoved into the arms of Hagrid, the gamekeeper. The boy's glasses had been shoved aggressively back onto his face, and his eyes were closed. The notion that the Death Eaters had forced the body onto Hagrid repulsed Draco, but this disgust was forgotten as he watched Harry's chest rise ever so slightly. He was alive.

Draco had to bite down on his fist to keep from giving a very uncharacteristic cheer. Turning his head, he realized that nobody had noticed this either. He fell back slightly, his breathing hard and his heart suddenly beating very fast.

We might win. We could win.

This possibility, which had seemed impossible just five minutes prior, had filled Draco with a strange, new kind of terror. It was the same fear that he had encountered in the Forest of Dean, and when he looked at Hermione. It was fear of loss, but more than that, it was the realization that if he died now, he wouldn't get to see any of this develop. He had to live, for her, for this, and for everyone who had died so that they could have this kind of chance.

"But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort asked.

"So what if I am?" Neville spat, his eyes full of rage.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"The only noble stock I know of is the Redemption Syndicate," Neville responded. "I'll join you when hell freezes over! Dumbledore's Army!" The responding cheer shook the ground, and Draco's eyes widened at the look of rage on Voldemort's face. He had been distracted, he had forgotten why they were there. Where was the snake?

"The Redemption Syndicate…" Voldemort purred. "They made their choice, Longbottom. Clearly, you have made yours. On your head be it."

Draco saw him move his wand. A sudden surge of panic shot through Draco. He was going to kill Longbottom. Draco was suddenly aware of every sound, every small motion. Time seemed to slow as he jumped up, aimed his wand at the most powerful dark wizard in history, and did something he knew Hermione was going to hate him for.

"Avada Kedavra!" The spell tore from Draco's wand, but Voldemort was faster. In an instant he had dodged the spell and petrified Draco, whose wand clattered to the ground near the rubble. Draco felt himself pulled to the spot where Neville was, stopping directly in front of Voldemort, who regarded him like a cat watching a mouse.

"Impressive, Draco Malfoy," he hissed. "I could feel that one."

Draco felt his body become suddenly, inexplicably free. He looked up into the Dark Lord's face and, with no better options, sneered.

"I'd have thought you gave up feeling a long time ago."

"Draco! No!"

"DRACO!"

Two separate screams from two very different women. Draco flinched at both, and Voldemort cackled with amusement.

"Listen to your poor mother. You've torn your family apart. All this for that Mudblood, Draco?" The smile on Voldemort's face was mirthless. Draco looked up, and for an instant, the fear was stripped away. He was looking at a husk, a battered shell of a great evil.

"All of this, and more." Draco spread his arms, his voice like iron. "I'll face you a thousand times if it means she gets a world where all of the bullshit you spread is treated like what it is: bullshit."

"So defiant," Voldemort was no longer amused, his voice poisonous. "I feel you have failed your House, Draco. Perhaps you need to be… re-sorted. I was going to give Longbottom the honor, but seeing as you continue to be a thorn in my side…" Voldemort waved his wand again, and this time, Draco realized that it hadn't been to invoke a killing curse. Instead, high above them, he could hear a castle window shatter, and a moment later, the Sorting Hat had fallen into Voldemort's long, cruel fingers.

"Draco is going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to oppose me. Lucius! Step forward."

The hat was suddenly forced over Draco's eyes, covering his nose and blinding him to the outside world. He heard footsteps, and then a soft voice spoke.

"My- my lord?"

"Prove your loyalty, Lucius. I have presented you with a traitor. Earn your place at my table."

"My lord, perhaps others-"

"I do not wish for the assistance of others." Draco could practically taste the malice in the Dark Lord's voice. "I wish for you to do it, Lucius."

There was silence. For a second, Draco was able to register the sound of his own heart beating defiantly, and of how certain he was that his father would not follow the command. What was the point -

"Incendio!"

And Draco felt heat, so sudden and violent that he almost cried out. He heard screams, people crying his name, and then a massive uproar unlike anything he had heard before. He'd barely had time to register the smell of smoke when the hat was ripped off his head by Neville, whose eyes were wild. The battle was raging around them again, centaurs and giants and Death Eaters and spiders and -

"GET YOUR WAND, YOU RUDDY PIECE OF SHIT!" Neville screamed, and Draco snapped back. He picked himself up and ran full tilt towards the pile of rubble, locking his eyes onto the small piece of red oak sticking out. Grabbing it, he turned to see the snake in close pursuit, its eyes narrowed.

"Reducto!" Draco yelled without thinking. The snake was blown back, and Draco stood, prepared to perform the Fiendfyre curse, when he saw Neville pull a shining silver blade from within the Sorting Hat and slice through the snake in midair. Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury, and for a second, Draco's was open in a roar of triumph equal to none. He turned, prepared to face the next threat, and found himself facing his mother and father.

The battle seemed to fade, the world seemed to stop. His mother was staring at him, drinking him in, and his father was doing the same. He kept his wand out, not moving, not blinking, not even breathing. The man had tried to set him on fire less than a minute ago, and Draco wasn't about to forget that. The tension held for one, two, three heartbeats, and still, Draco didn't move.

And then, without any warning, Narcissa Malfoy rushed forward and threw her arms around her only son, her entire frame trembling. Draco pushed her off, his face contorted as he stared at Lucius.

"You tried to kill me."

"Please, Draco, be reasonable."

"Reasonable? You would have killed me to save your sorry arse!"

"I can-"

"I don't think that's possible."

"I knew Potter was alive."

"You knew?!" Draco said. "How the fuck could you have known?"

"I knew," Narcissa whispered. "I was the one who had to check him, Draco. I… we needed a way to find you. We needed to -"

"To do what?" Draco's hand was shaking. "To set me on fire? To -!"

"Draco."

That was the voice he'd been waiting for. Turning, he saw a flash of hazel and inhaled the smell of parchment before she was next to him, her hand in his, facing his parents. He could feel the magic crackling in the air around her, and he watched his father take a very noticeable step back, his eyes wide.

"Ms. Granger, please," Narcissa implored, "this is a family matter"

"That's why she stays, Mother." Draco seethed. This seemed to shock his mother into silence, at least for a second. Lucius looked as though he was picking pieces of his cognitive function up off the ground, struggling to form words at the sight of his son.

"Draco, you have to come with us." Lucius said finally.

"Where to?"

"We're…" Lucius sighed. "We're leaving. We need to be safe, and nothing is more important than keeping this family intact."

Draco looked at his parents, twisting his head from his father to his mother as he put the pieces together in his head.

"You're running," he said.

"Draco -"

"You're scared," he murmured, and he knew that it was true. He knew it was true because for a long time, when he had been scared, he had run away. He had run away from fights, run away from problems, run away from home. His parents had never had someone to guide them, to show them that you couldn't run away from everything. They'd just kept doing it, and for a second, Draco wondered how sad a life like that would be. The problems would keep following you, and nothing would ever get easier. Lucius had been asked to burn his son, and he'd done it, all because he was scared. Draco had gotten lucky. His parents hadn't. His anger faded, and suddenly, Draco felt pity douse him like a cold rain.

"We are scared," Narcissa whispered. Draco blinked, taken aback by her honesty. He looked down at Hermione and saw her eyes flicker back to the Entrance Hall. He realized with sudden, awful clarity that the battle was still going on, that she was separating herself from it to be here with him. He couldn't take her away for too long. Not now.

"You can leave," Draco said quietly. "I'm not going with you."

"Draco -"

"You two are running from punishment," pronounced Draco. "You're fleeing because you're terrified of getting what you earned. If you do run, I'll never forgive you. The Dark Lord - no, Voldemort is about to lose, and when he does, I will ensure that you never see the legacy that I create." He paused, looking at Hermione when he spoke next. "The legacy my children create."

Narcissa blanched, and Lucius opened his mouth to argue again, but Draco cut them off with a hard air of finality. "I'm done talking. I love you two more than I can say, but…" he trailed off, unable to form the thoughts. "But I can't burden myself with your fear anymore," he finished. He didn't give them a chance to respond as he turned himself towards Hermione. She looked up at him, her coffee color curls matted and her eyes fiery as always, an impish smile on her face.

"Sorry about the stunt earlier," said Draco sheepishly. "Would you believe me if I said I knew I'd survive it?"

She laughed, putting her arms around his neck. "Godric, no."

"Worth a shot," Draco mumbled as he bent down to kiss her. They stood there for a couple of seconds, and then she pulled away, her face serious.

"Castle."

"Yeah, alright," Draco said, his mind clicking back into gear once more. Ignoring the pleas of his parents, Draco took her hand and together, the two ran back towards the Great Hall.

The Entrance Hall was full of dueling fighters, and Draco and Hermione weaved their way through them. Draco saw Death Eaters falling left and right, and saw the victors moving into the Great Hall. For some reason, there were House Elves everywhere, holding knives and cleavers and hacking at the ankles of the Death Eaters. Draco spotted Dobby holding a particularly nasty looking fish knife, and made a note never to cross that long-eared psychopath again. The battle raged around them, and he felt Hermione take his hand as they moved through the smaller skirmishes. Draco kept scanning the Hall, looking for familiar faces. His eyes fell upon Neville and Ron, who were locked in combat with Fenrir Greyback.

For a second, Draco was standing over Blaise again, looking at the wounds covering his body.

Werewolf scars.

This time, he saw red.

He turned to Hermione, who was watching the fight. He opened his mouth, but she stopped him with a kiss.

"Go."

He nodded, and sprinted towards Ron and Neville. It was Ron who saw him coming and got the message without Draco having to say anything. He jumped out of the way of Greyback's killing curse as Draco moved forward, pulled out his wand, and lowered it at Greyback. The werewolf's eyes locked onto Draco, his eyes filling with fear.

"Stay out of this, brat."

"Fuck. You." Draco hissed, and the two began to duel.

For the first time, Draco was able to truly relish in the responsiveness of his new wand. It felt like every spell he cast was easy, requiring only the smallest twitches of wand movement. It was clear Greyback had grown complacent in dueling members of the Order. Draco was not shooting to stun, and he could watch the werewolf's movements becoming increasingly frantic as he defended himself from a hail of curses. Neville moved in alongside Draco as the two worked Greyback towards the wall. Baring his bloody teeth, the Death Eater sprayed four killing curses towards the two boys, who had to move slightly. Draco spun around, prepared to fire back, when a jet of green light exploded from the crowd, slamming Greyback in the chest and killing him instantly. Draco turned towards the source of the spell and felt a powerful shock course through his body.

Theo Nott stood, his face hard and his wand extended, facing the werewolf's corpse. His black hair had been blown back, and his eyes were narrowed.

"Next time," he growled, "stay away from my friends."

Draco pushed himself up and walked towards Theo, not really believing that he was standing there.

"How are you here?"

"I couldn't leave you all here," Theo muttered. "Astoria is with the people at St. Mungo's, she'll… she'll be okay. Is it true about Hannah? About… about Daphne and Graham?"

Draco gave a single nod, and Theo crouched to the floor, burying his face in his hands. His shoulders shook, and he remained perfectly still there for an instant. Without warning, he stood, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his torn traveling cloak, his face taking on a very distant expression.

"I can't - not right now. I need to deal with this… when I have time. Is Blaise -?" Draco nodded, and he saw Theo's face relax slightly. "Where's Potter?"

"Dead." Neville had arrived by their side, and his face was hard. "Speaking of which, I need to find Voldemort and kill him."

"Longbottom," Draco said, a strange urge to laugh building up inside of him as he realized that he was still the only one who had realized, "I've got some news for you."

"What the fuck are you on about -"

"Harry!"

"HE'S ALIVE!"

The voices rang throughout the hall, and Draco saw Neville go very pale and then very red. The three boys turned towards the end of the hall, where a large mass of people were congregating. Slowly, they moved forward, towards the action. As they did so, Draco saw Hermione standing with Ron. They made eye contact, and the two pushed their way through the crowd towards him. After moving about slightly, the group found a gap in the crowd where they could see what was happening. For what felt like the millionth time that day, Draco felt his breath taken away at the sight before him. It wasn't particularly grandiose, but he knew that regardless of the outcome, he was witnessing history.

Harry and Voldemort circled each other, neither casting curses, each watching the other. Harry looked fine, but Voldemort… well, he had never looked more insane. Draco could see the way the wand that he held was vibrating, the way his hands shook with the fury that was vibrating through his entire body. He was vaguely aware that Harry was speaking, but the gravity of the situation was almost too much for Draco. Everything he had done rested with Harry now. If he failed, then many more people would die.

Draco felt these thoughts wash around him until suddenly he felt small fingers intertwine with his own, and saw Hermione on his right, her face white.

"Please, Harry…" she whispered, and Draco echoed the sentiment silently.

"Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle…" Harry called. Theo grimaced slightly.

"I'm sure that'll be really productive," he mumbled halfheartedly to Draco. The attempt at humor fizzled as the two continued to watch but not hear, waiting for the outcome. Waiting to feel the repercussions. Draco could see that Voldemort's fury was mounting to a level that he had never seen. The final battle wasn't far away now, and all they could do was watch. He squeezed Hermione's hand. If this was how it ended, at least she was here with him.

Harry had started to laugh slightly, and Draco's eyes widened as the boy moved confidently, still circling Voldemort. Draco realized he knew that look. He'd seen a milder version of it on Harry's face during chess matches. It was the expression of a man who knew he had something his opponent didn't. Voldemort, who had been screaming at Harry, had stopped abruptly as Harry spoke.

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it yours! You didn't listen to Ollivander, but I did! The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance…"

Draco felt time freeze. Theo choked, Hermione gave a small scream, and Neville went ghostly white again. The three turned to Draco, who stared at the wand in Harry's hand, finally understanding the full plan.

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah, I do. You're a dick, but I trust you."

"God fucking damn it, Potter," Draco groaned as the Dark Lord turned to face him, blank shock in his eyes. This was only a brief reprieve from the fury that stole over his snake like features again as he turned towards Harry.

"But what does it matter?" he mused. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. We duel on skill alone, and after I have killed you, I will attend to the traitor…"

"Too late," Harry said, twitching the wand in his hand. Draco could feel the attention of the Hall drawn to it. "You never understood friendship, did you? You never knew it could make you stronger, but maybe this will make you see. This is what makes me stronger than you, Riddle." Harry spread his arms wide, a sad smile on his face. "Draco Malfoy is my friend, and he gave me his wand of his own volition. So it all comes down to this, doesn't it? Does the wand in your hand know that its last master put his trust in me? Because if it does… I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

Sunlight exploded across the scene as the enchanted sky above grew warm. Draco hadn't realized how bright the sun was as the light shattered the darkness of battle, temporarily blinding him. The light hit the faces of the two, final combatants, and both of them moved at once.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

There was a thunderous explosion, a burst of golden flames, and then silence. Draco watched, disbelieving, as the Elder Wand soared through the air, its arc perfectly mirrored by Voldemort's slow fall backwards to the floor. It was finished in an instant. Harry Potter stood, alone and victorious, staring over the body of the ghostly, feeble Dark Lord.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeats.

And then everything exploded. Hermione rushed forward, Neville rushed forward, there was a great cry of relief, of joy, of shock that it was over, that it was finally over. Draco fell to his knees, his hands dropping to his sides as he watched the fighters mob Harry, all of them desperately trying to reach him, to assure themselves that he had really won. Draco hadn't even realized he was crying until Theo was next to him with red eyes and a wet face as he helped him up off the floor. Draco tried to pull himself together, but it was too much, and he felt another wave of joy and grief threaten to wash him away. The two boys stared at each other in shock, and then Draco moved forward and wrapped his best friend in a tight hug. He heard Theo's choked sob and had to hold back one of his own as the tears ran down his cheek.

"He did it," Theo whispered. "It's finished."

"We did it, mate," Draco corrected. "We did it."

They stood together in the wake of the sacrifices, knowing that things would be okay again, even if they didn't know how that was possible.

As the sun rose over Hogwarts, Draco found himself playing an unexpected role. He wasn't a spectacular healer but Theo was, and as a result the boy was heavily occupied working on various fighters. All Draco really wanted to do was sit on one of the benches and eat breakfast with Hermione, but this wasn't an option for a couple of reasons. Hermione, in typical Hermione fashion, was an excellent healer, and thus just as Draco had thought he would finally get her to himself, she had been snatched by Madame Pomfrey for assistance. This left Draco quite marooned in a room full of the grieving and the celebrating. Somehow, he found himself sitting across from Neville, who was eating breakfast. He could feel people staring at the three of them. This must have shown on his face, because Neville gave him a slight laugh.

"What?" Draco asked.

"It's a bit weird, innit?" Neville said, his eyes sparkling with contained laughter. "At least now we know how Harry feels."

Draco snorted at this but didn't respond, his eyes wandering, taking in the celebrations. He saw Molly and Arthur Weasley sitting with their children and felt an odd pang in his chest. There was a tug at his elbow, and turning around, he found the interim Minister of Magic standing over him. Draco shrank back slightly on instinct and Kingsley grinned.

"No need to look so scared, Malfoy. You did good work today."

Draco blinked. "I'm not su-"

"First time for everything."

There it was. "Are you here just to antagonize me, Minister?"

"That is an occupational benefit, but no." Kingsley sighed. "I'm here to deliver a message from your parents, as well as to discuss a possible time for the two of us to meet in earnest."

"My parents?" Draco asked, hung up on the first part of that sentence.

"Yes," Kingsley nodded. "They turned themselves in a few minutes ago."

"Why?"

"That's why I'm here," Kingsley sighed. "Your father told me to tell you that they couldn't bear to not be a part of your life, regardless of what 'terrible choices you may make.'"

Draco soured. "Even in the face of defeat, he finds a way to be ignorant."

"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree." mumbled Neville.

"Sod off, Longbottom." Draco turned back to Kingsley. He felt strangely… proud of his parents. This couldn't be easy for either of them. He knew that he would probably have to speak for them in front of the Wizengamot sooner, rather than later. "What's going to happen to them?"

"Your father will go to Azkaban, without question," Kingsley said. "It's going to be difficult to convince the Wizengamot to let him off without the Dementor's Kiss after people watched him light a war hero on fire, but I think if you testify he can get out of it."

Draco blinked, momentarily frozen due to someone identifying him as a "war hero."

"And my mother?"

"She'll likely avoid Azkaban altogether, if Potter verifies that she did indeed help him get out of that forest."

In spite of himself, Draco felt a small amount of relief. It was going to be hard enough to watch his father go. His mother would have been even more difficult. He looked up at Kingsley, and realized that they still hadn't discussed the meeting that he wanted.

"You want to meet with me?"

"Yes, as soon as possible. I'd prefer to meet with Nott at the same time, but that ultimately depends on schedule freedom."

"Why?"

"Because, Lord Malfoy," Kingsley chuckled, "you now control the Malfoy estate, which includes the properties, the various enterprises, and the Gringotts vault. I've heard that the former Lord Nott was found dead in a bar in Hogsmeade - shame, really - and thus, that black haired rascal now controls the Nott empire."

"Oh." Draco blanched.

"Don't worry." Kingsley clapped a hand on Draco's shoulders, his eyes confident. "The Wizarding World needs help from both of you if it's going to recover. I'm excited to work with both of you."

Draco had stopped listening halfway through as a flash of dark curls caught his eye. Glancing up at Kingsley, Draco gave a half smile.

"Send me an owl next week, and I promise I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you. If you see the young Lord Nott before I do, tell him to do the same." Kingsley extended his hand, and Draco shook it, not paying attention in the slightest as he moved in Hermione's direction.

She was standing in the middle of the Hall, looking around. Draco got the odd feeling that she was looking for him. Walking up behind her, he grabbed her shoulders, causing her to shriek and spin around wildly.

"You prick," she gasped as he laughed, "I was looking for you!"

"I figured," Draco said, continuing to laugh. "I don't know why you didn't look behind you."

"How are you?" She asked, examining his arm critically before looking up at him with her soft brown eyes. Draco sighed. He couldn't lie to that face.

"I feel like total shit and my arm probably needs to be looked at by a professional, but -"

"Draco!"

"I know, I know! I'll be fine. I'm going to be fine." He smiled down at her, intoxicated by how close she was, how he could hold her like this and know that nobody was coming after them. "We're fine."

She smiled, locking her arms around his neck. "Who's the seer now?"

Draco smiled, leaning in so close that her breath tickled his face. He could feel her heart racing, and wondered if this would ever get old. He suspected that it wouldn't.

"Hey! Hermione!"

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, and Draco pulled back, confused. Hermione blinked for a second, and then scowled.

"Merlin, Harry, could you have waited?"

"Potter?" Draco turned his head from one side to the other, not finding him. "Wait a second -"

Without warning, Harry's head popped into existence next to them. Draco gave a small yelp and Hermione sighed, a smile playing on her lips.

"What do you need?" she asked.

"To borrow Draco, and then you."

"Thoughts on that plan?" Hermione asked, turning to the blonde.

"Can we do it here?" Draco asked.

"Ehm." Harry cleared his throat. "I've gotten a lot of attention today, and to be perfectly honest -"

"I get it," Draco said, cutting him off. "Let's go out into the Entrance Hall."

The two moved towards the Entrance Hall with their invisible companion. Once outside, Harry took off his cloak, pushed his hand into his pocket, and pulled out Draco's wand.

"I told you I would give it back," he said. "Thanks for letting me use it."

Draco took it gently and stared at it. He turned it slowly, and then put it into his back pocket.

"Are you going to use it?" Harry asked. Draco thought for a second, and then shook his head.

"I survived this shit using this wand," Draco said, twirling his new wand between his fingers. "I think the Hawthorn wand should be… I don't know, hung up in a museum or something. It did kill the most evil wizard in history."

"I'll leave that up to your judgement." Harry said. They stood in silence, interrupted only when Ron walked in, panting slightly.

"Sorry I'm late, I had to get away from my mum." He hugged Hermione and gave Draco a respectful nod, which Draco returned. "Where are we going, Harry?"

"Follow me," Harry said. "Malfoy, you can come if you want."

"Don't worry about it, Potter." Draco said with a laugh. "Just get back here soon or the world's going to fall apart."

Harry laughed and turned, making his way up the stairs with Ron. Hermione lingered, watching Draco as her friends moved slightly further away.

"Draco."

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to come to Australia?"

Draco blinked. "That's one hell of a question."

"No, no," she shook her head, "I mean… that's where my parents are. I have to go there and lift the memory charm. Do you want to come with me?"

Draco crossed the space between them in an instant and kissed her.

"It would be my honor," he murmured.

She left a few moments after that, walking up the stairs after Harry and Ron. Draco stood there for a while before walking outside and staring at the wreckage around the castle.

There was work to be done. Draco didn't consider himself to be a particularly brave person, and he knew that this work would be difficult, sad, and often terrifying. But for once, he had someone who was going to walk through the fire with him.

For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy looked out into the unknown future ahead of him and gave a smile.

All would be well.

A/N:

I'm not crying, you are!

I fucking love you guys. Thank you for sticking with this story, and thank you for sticking with me. It has been incredible to watch people enjoy this story, derivative as it may be. I've grown to really love writing these characters. Thanks to all of you who have sent me support and thoughts, and I hope that you stick around to read The North Star.

I will write some kind of an Epilogue at some point in the next few weeks, but as of right now, all of my efforts are focused on gearing up for The North Star.

Stay frosty (and I love you all),

secondchoice