Draco angrily tossed the last sketchbook down on top of the others and drew his wand. There were about fifteen full books in total, most of them filled with drawings of Harry.

He hated them. He never wanted to see them again. They were just a reminder of everything he had lost. Sod Harry. Sod Theo.

"Incendio!" He blinked at the heat as the pile burst into flames. It was perfectly safe in the back acres of the Malfoy property. As long as he didn't leave the fire unattended there was little to no risk of the fire spreading.

In the dying twilight, the raging inferno that had once been his art burned brighter than the sun. He could not stave off the tears any longer. He broke down, falling to his knees and screaming his anguish to the skies.

He stared defeatedly into the dancing blaze, watching the fire curl the covers of his sketchbooks before consuming them entirely. That part of his life was over. He watched it burn for what felt like a century before the panic started to bubble up.

"Shite! What have I done?" He cried, rushing to pull as many books out of the firestorm as he could. He put out what was left burning and searched through the kindling for anything salvageable.

His art was all he had left of his old self. The version of himself that didn't make him nauseous simply by existing.

In the end, he managed to save five of his sketchbooks and one partially burnt drawing of Harry laughing with his friends at the Gryffindor table. The Weasel and Granger got the brunt of the damage, leaving Harry's perfect features untouched.

He set his salvage down and drew his knees to his chest. All of the death eaters were off to kill the only person he knew for sure that he loved. It was safe to fall apart.

That's exactly what he did.

Harry stared in horror at six identical versions of himself.

They could all die.

They could die and it would be his fault. He wanted to run. He wanted to rant and rave and force them to turn back into themselves, but there was no point. If anyone got hurt….Harry didn't think he would be able to live with himself.

"Mad-eye is dead."

Nobody spoke, no one even so much as moved. They were all huddled in the front garden at the Burrow, holding onto one another for support. The twins were inside, tending to George's ear and Kingsley had left for Downing street not ten minutes previously.

Who was going to break the news to them?

Harry felt as though his heart had dropped right to the ground. His mind spun and he felt as if he were falling. Falling through the earth and sinking out of existence.

"We saw it happen," Bill said through unshed tears. "It happened just as we broke ranks. Voldemort went straight for them and Dung panicked. Disapparated straight off the broom, leaving Mad-eye to take the full brunt of Voldemort's curse."

Bill's cheeks shone in the dim light from the kitchen window. He shook his head, unable to go on.

"Ze curse caught Mad-eye off guard and 'ee… 'ee fell backward off 'is broom. Zer was no-zing we could do-" Fleur tried to be strong for her intended, but she broke down too.

"Of course you couldn't do anything." Lupin's voice was thick with sorrow as he clapped Bill on the shoulder. "It's not your fault, either of you. Got it?"

Bill and Fleur nodded but didn't look convinced.

It was not their fault Mad-eye was dead.

It was his.

Draco paced restlessly in the Manor's gardens, no hint of his impromptu bonfire left on his immaculate robes. Extravagant flora of all forms rose up on either side of him but the beauty did nothing to assuage his fears. They should have been back by now. He cast yet another anxious glance at the sky and was rewarded with the sight of the return party flying over the wards.

He ran out to meet them.

They were carrying someone in their midst and Draco almost choked on the ball of panic that had lodged itself in his throat.

"Get him inside!" Severus's voice rose above the din of chatter.

Draco followed the group wordlessly. The fallen Death Eater was still masked. Most of them were. There was no way to know if it was one of his parents or not until they got them inside.

"It was one of the bloody Potter look-alikes." A masked death eater snarled. Draco was unfamiliar with the voice, but that didn't mean much. The Dark Lord was continuously recruiting. It could have been anyone.

"Potter look-alikes?" He questioned no one in particular.

"There were seven of the bastards! We couldn't tell which one was the real Potter! It was chaos." Another mask answered. It sounded like Dolohov. Draco couldn't be sure.

"Did he kill him?" He was proud that his voice didn't even tremble as he asked after Harry's fate.

"Couldn't tell in all the confusion." The nearest death eater shook their head. "But he took off in a rage from what I heard so my best guess is no."

Draco didn't respond. Knowing Harry was alive brought a small sense of comfort, but Harry was only part of his fears.

Once they were inside they carried their fallen comrade into the drawing-room and laid them on the couch.

"I think they're dead. They aren't breathing." Another disembodied voice rang out.

"He was only hit with a stunner! I saw it!" Stan's mask was already off.

The sight of the old Knight Bus driver made Draco sick. Just another imperiused follower.

"Yeah, but he fell off his broom." Someone pulled off their mask and Draco almost fainted in relief. It was a newer recruit.

He felt slightly guilty about the immense sense of repose that had washed over him, but he couldn't bring himself to fully care. His family lived to see another day.

That was all that mattered.

"What the HELL did you do?!" Pansy shrieked.

She had been on holiday in Spain with her mother since the beginning of the summer and had only just returned. It should have been no surprise that she immediately noticed Theo's absence.

"He kept pushing me! What was I supposed to do?" Draco backed up several paces in light of Pansy's fury.

"Not hurt him so badly he takes off on his own? Be a decent human being? You knew how he felt about you! How could you?!" angry tears were rolling down her face and she had her wand out.

Sod the Dark Lord, Draco was pretty sure an enraged Pansy would be his boggart if he ever met one again.

"I didn't even want to break up with him! He brought it up!" His voice shook with poorly concealed distress as she backed him against the wall, wand poking his throat. "There was no reasoning with him, he was stark raving-"

"You hurt him, Draco! Of course he was upset!" She snarled.

"I never meant to hurt him." He whispered brokenly.

Some of Pansy's ire seemed to leak out of her and her expression softened ever so slightly.

"You're lucky I believe you." She snipped venomously.

Draco's shoulders sagged as she withdrew her wand from his throat. Without any warning, he was falling face-first onto the decorative rug in the family room. Every muscle in his body was frozen.

"You stay right there and you think about Theo, alone and scared and suffering from a broken heart. I'll come to release you at my discretion." She said cooly before strolling out of the room as if she didn't have a care in the world.

Harry supposed it was a beautiful ceremony. He couldn't be too sure though. He had never been to a wedding before, muggle or otherwise. Either way, he couldn't quite force himself to feel the excitement everyone else around him seemed to be feeling.

Thoughts of Dumbledore and the troubled past he had never told him about consumed him. Harry was just supposed to carry on with his mission? Trust Dumbledore when he obviously never trusted Harry?

He felt confused. Betrayed. Hoodwinked. Lied to. Taken advantage of. Manipulated.

He shouldn't be surprised.

Why would Dumbledore ever see him as capable of handling the truth?

He was just one massive disappointment with glasses and a heartbeat. It was laughable that he thought Dumbledore had ever trusted him.

His thoughts strayed to the snitch Dumbledore had left him and he was filled with resentment.

I open at the close.

What a load of bollocks. Just another hoop Dumbledore had wanted him to jump through.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Kingsley's Patronus.

The Ministry has fallen.

So it begins.

Draco's hand was shaking. He didn't even try to stop it.

He hated the Dark Lord. He hated himself. He hated Rowle for earning their master's displeasure.

"More, Rowle? Or Shall we end it and feed you to Nagini?" The cruel, high pitched voice was eerily smooth, only hinting at the white-hot rage behind his words. "Lord Voldemort is not sure that he will forgive this time."

Draco couldn't even find amusement in the fact that the power-hungry prat referred to himself in the third person. A soft whimper arose from the prone figure shaking on the ground.

"You called me back for this? To tell me that Harry Potter has escaped again? Draco, give Rowle another taste of our displeasure." The Dark Lord smirked.

Draco swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat when he had said his name. When Rowle didn't immediately writhe in pain his head snapped towards Draco.

"Do it, or feel my wrath yourself!" He hissed.

"Crucio!" He cried as a wave of self-loathing washed over him.

Harry blinked up at the unfamiliar ceiling and cobwebbed chandelier. He was wrapped up in a sleeping bag and he wondered idly where he was. A glance to his left revealed a chink of sky visible between dark, heavy curtains. It was the cool, clear blue of watered ink, somewhere between night and dawn, and everything was quiet except for Ron and Hermione's slow, deep breathing.

Then it all came rushing back.

The wedding. The death eaters at the cafe. The dust-figure of Dumbledore. The vision of Draco being forced to torture someone. One of the death eaters they had escaped from.

Harry felt sickened by what he had seen, by the use to which Draco was now being put by Voldemort. He had looked terrified. Harry couldn't seem to get his graceful features, pinched in unknowable suffering, out of his head. Those normally sparkling grey eyes were dull and lifeless with dark circles that looked like they had been painted on beneath them. He was a shell of the boisterous bully he had come to know.

Shaking his head to try and clear it, he turned his attention towards his two friends. Ron had had a fit of gallantry before bed and insisted that Hermione sleep on the cushions from the sofa. Consequently, her silhouette was slightly raised above his. They both looked so peaceful in sleep. Their arms were curved towards each other, leaving their fingers resting only a few inches apart. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands.

It made Harry feel utterly alone.

Fred and George had refused to let him break up with them. That somehow made it worse. He felt even more abandoned than if they had listened to him after Dumbledore's funeral. He wished against all logic that they could have come with them. What a laugh. He could never ask them to risk their lives for him. He was of half a mind to leave Ron and Hermione safely behind, but he had nowhere else to go.

It was raining outside. The pitter-patter of water droplets gracing the roof of their tent served as white noise in the background. The atmosphere in the tent was at a boiling point.

"I thought you knew what you'd signed up for," Harry said as coldness stole into his heart. He had been afraid they had been saying similar things behind his back. He wasn't sodding blind. He saw them sneaking off together. He noticed when they would stop talking when they saw him approaching.

"Yeah, I thought I did too." Ron snarled back.

"So what part of it isn't living up to your expectations?" He demanded. Anger was coming to his defense now. "Did you think we'd be staying in five-star hotels? Finding a Horcrux every other day? Did you think you'd be back to Mummy by Christmas?"

"We thought you knew what you were doing!" Ron stood up angrily, enunciating his hurtful words with wild gestures. "We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, we thought you had a real plan!"

"Ron!" Hermione gasped at his words.

"Well, sorry to let you down," Harry's voice was quite calm even though he felt hollow, inadequate. "I've been straight with you from the start, I told you everything Dumbledore told me. And in case you haven't noticed, we've found one Horcrux —"

"Yeah, and we're about as near getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them — nowhere effing near, in other words!"

"Take off the locket, Ron," Hermione ordered, holding her hand out for the horcrux. "Please take it off. You wouldn't be talking like this if you hadn't been wearing it all day."

"Yeah, he would," Harry bristled. Ron didn't deserve to have excuses made for him. "Why are you still here?"

"Search me," Ron threw his hands up in mock invitation, glaring at Harry.

"Go home then!" Harry gestured towards the tent entrance.

"Yeah, maybe I will!" shouted Ron. He took several steps toward Harry, who did not back away. "Didn't you hear what they said about my sister? Death Eaters are running Hogwarts! They tried to steal the sword of Gryffindor FOR YOU! But you don't give a rat's fart, do you? It's only the Forbidden Forest, Harry I've-Faced-Worse Potter doesn't care what happens to her in there — well, I do, all right, giant spiders and mental stuff —"

"I was only saying — she was with the others, they were with Hagrid! As far as detentions go that's pretty tame! You heard Dean and Ted, they weren't worried! They know Ginny can look after herself!"

"Yeah, I get it, you don't care! And what about the rest of my family, 'the Weasleys don't need another kid injured,' did you hear That?"

"Yeah, I —"

"Not bothered what it meant, though?" Ron sneered. "They're not your family."

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Harry bellowed. "You have NO RIGHT to say that to me-"

"What, like you're so worried about what happens to them?" Ron said nastily.

"Yeah! I am! You don't even know that HALF of how much I care about them! I-" Harry stopped himself before he could out the twins.

"You what?" Ron challenged. When Harry stayed silent his face hardened. "I've had enough of this."

"Leave the horcrux." Harry's voice was low, but Ron heard him.

"Take it! Merlin knows I don't want the bloody thing. " He growled, ripping the locket from his neck and throwing it across the tent.

Harry watched him grab his things and storm out. A loud crack announced his departure and Hermione let out a strangled sob. Harry was frozen to the spot. Terror, anger, hurt, and loneliness rendering him immobile.

Draco's heart broke as he watched his mother mindlessly serve the Dark Lord. Her expression was blank as she poured his tea. Her movements were stiff and Draco could see her silent screaming when he caught her eye. A lonely tear slipped down her cheek before the Dark Lord ordered her to move on.

It was bitterly cold in the dead of winter. Theo cast an anxious glance over his shoulder. Surely they would have sent someone after him by now? He had been on the run for almost half a year. Perhaps he was safer in the muggle world than he had ever dared to hope.

Another biting wind broke him out of his thoughts and he made a beeline for a pub he spied a little farther down the street. He could hear the bass pounding from half a block away. Some alcohol would do him good. When he finally entered into the warm, dimly lit pub he almost turned around and walked right back out.

Of course he would be here. Would he ever be done haunting him?

Draco had his back turned as he ordered a drink at the bar, however, and Theo slipped into the darkest booth he could find. He wouldn't be run out of a warm place to sit by the likes of Draco Malfoy.

Theo couldn't help but watch the blond as he downed his drink and glided onto the dancefloor. He seemed to scan the other dancers for a moment before dancing his way over to an attractive muggle in the middle of the floor. Theo had never been happier to be interrupted by the wait staff in his life.

"What are we drinking luv?" she asked him, laying down a bev-nap in front of him. She was pretty enough. He might have hit on her if he wasn't so preoccupied with Draco bloody Malfoy.

"The strongest drink you have." He said miserably.

"You got it." She shot him a sad smile and he flushed in embarrassment.

He must look so pathetic: sitting at a big booth alone, staring at the dance floor. In the server's absence, his gaze was drawn back to the one thing he wished he didn't have to see. Now he was grinding with the muggle in a way that made Theo blush.

Damn.

He had never danced with him like that.

He couldn't look away, no matter how much it hurt. He didn't even notice when the server came back to drop off his drink. When the song had ended he looked down at the table and was surprised to see a tall glass filled with a light brown liquid in front of him. He pulled the straw out and chugged it in one go. His throat burned but he didn't care. The warm numbness that accompanied the last swallow was very welcomed.

When he looked back up Draco was leading the muggle off the dance floor towards the back. Theo frowned as he watched them disappear into the bathroom together.

"That was fast! You want another one?" The server gave him a sympathetic look and Theo merely nodded.

When she went back to the bar he pulled out his coin purse. He had emptied his vault at Gringotts the day he ran. Getting it changed into muggle money seemed like the smartest move. He had been right. The wad of strange paper money had been greatly depleted by now, but he should have enough to survive on for another year if he was cautious. He carefully peeled a couple of twenty-pound notes from the stack and put the rest away. That was his budget for getting sloshed. If he kept drinking the same thing he would be rightly pissed in no time.

"Here we are," she set a new glass in front of him.

"Thank you. What is this called? I like it."

"They call it a long island iced tea. It originated over in the states, and believe you and me, Americans like to drink." She gushed, clearly pleased.

"I'll take your word for it." He smiled shyly at her and she chuckled.

"Let me know if you need anything else, alright luv?" She winked at him.

"Will do." He grinned back.

As he watched her walk away a flash of bright hair caught his eye and his smile slipped from his lips. Draco was coming out of the bathroom alone, still buttoning his shirt back up. Before Theo could even register that, Draco was already ordering another drink and scoping out his next victim. He leaned casually against the bar, chatting up some ginger bloke with wide shoulders.

Theo's jaw dropped as the redhead turned and pulled Draco into a passionate kiss. When they broke apart they both downed their drinks and slipped out the back. Was he dating both of them?

By the time Draco and the ginger made it back inside Theo was on his third Long Island. He watched as Draco ditched the redhead and started flirting with a burly man wearing leather by the billiard tables.

So not dating then.

Just as Theo finished off his fourth and final drink Draco left with yet another strange man.

"He comes in here almost every other night. Never leaves with the same man twice. You can do better." The waitress said as she dropped off his check, following his gaze to where Draco had just walked out.

"Oh, I'm aware. He's my ex." Theo grimaced.

"My condolences. Here, this shot is on me." She set down one of the two shot glasses she was holding on the table.

Theo picked it up and sniffed gingerly at the green liquid.

"It's a liquid Marijuana shot. It's my favorite, just trust me." She laughed at the face he pulled, holding up the second shot to cheers.

"I think I need to know your name before we do a shot together." He smiled.

"Amelia." Her entire countenance brightened.

"Then here is to you, Amelia." He raised his glass to hers and they both threw it back. Sweet and tangy flavor exploded on his tongue and his eyes widened. "You have excellent taste."

"Thank you." She flushed beneath his praise. "Now that we've done a shot together, do I get to know your name?"

"Theo." his lips curled into a twisted smile. If Draco could do it, why couldn't he? "When does your shift end, Amelia?"

"Fawkes." Harry frowned, tapping the wireless with his wand. They had missed the last Potter Watch so the password was anyone's best guess. Hermione was off on her bunk on the other side of the tent. Ever since Ron came back she had been rather cold to both of them.

Harry didn't rightly care at the moment. He was ecstatic when Ron showed them Potter Watch on the Wizarding Network. Hermione had been pleased to hear the voices of their classmates and friends, of course. But it was different for Harry. Each broadcast he would strain his ears for Fred or George's voice. Hearing their generalized support of him didn't count for much, but it made Harry's heart soar.

"Albus. Order. Phoenix. Mad-eye. Bones." He tried in rapid succession, growing ever more frustrated with each wrong password. "Sirius! Dumbledore! Wolfric!"

Wolfric worked. The wireless let out a final burst of static before Lee Jordan's voice filled the tent.

"- and there hasn't been any news on the Potter front. We can only hope that he is alive and well."

"Thanks for the update, River."

Harry's heart constricted when Fred's voice took over. He grabbed the wireless and pulled it into his lap as if holding it could somehow bring Fred into the tent with them.

He supposed he was in love with them.

His throat tightened with that realization as Fred started rattling off an update on what Voldemort was up to. He had never felt like this about anyone before.

"Draco! Come here, we need you to identify Potter." His father's face was plaid and his hair lacked its usual luster. Even his voice sounded strained. "If we are the ones to hand him over to the Dark Lord, perhaps all will be forgiven."

"I wouldn't count on it, father." Draco's voice sounded weak, even to his own ears, and he cleared his throat.

"We at least have to try." His father sounded desperate. "Your mother…"

Draco had never seen his father shed a tear in his life. To see the crumbling man before him scared Draco possibly more than anything else about the war. He used to be the strong, unflappable patriarch of the family. Now he was every bit the crumbling mess Draco was. It was unnerving to see.

"I'll do what I can," He said resignedly.

"Yes! Perfect, come along now to the drawing-room. That's where we have them tied up." his father seemed to glow with hope and it made Draco sick.

He followed him down the hall and into the drawing-room. When they rounded the corner Draco almost stopped. He was not prepared for what he saw.

Harry's face was swollen, making him almost unrecognizable. Draco would know his face anywhere, though. He had drawn it enough times to be familiar with every inch, every angle. The Weasel and Granger both looked worse for the wear as well, tied up on either side of Harry. A party of snatchers were hovering over them, grumbling unhappily amongst themselves. Draco jolted when he recognized Fenrir Greyback among them. That would be just Harry's luck, wouldn't it? To be picked up by the most violent and bloodthirsty Werewolf alive?

"Yes, yes! Come here, Draco." His aunt Bella sounded beside herself. "You went to school with him, tell us- is this the Potter boy?"

"I- I can't be sure." Draco stammered, looking anywhere but at Harry. "What happened to his face?"

"He said it was an allergic reaction." Fenrir chipped in.

"A stinging hex is more like it." Aunt Bella scoffed, grabbing Harry by his hair and forcing him under direct lighting. "Look again!"

Harry's hair had grown out. It was almost to his shoulders and he had a thick beard starting to grow in. He looked rugged and rough around the edges. If this reunion were under better circumstances, Draco might have liked it.

"I don't know." His voice was shaking and he kicked himself for appearing weak in front of the others. "I can't tell."

"Get over here and look properly!" Aunt Bella barked and he immediately obeyed. She was just as sadistic and twisted as the Dark Lord. Draco was terrified of being on the receiving end of one of her unforgivable curses again. "Is it him?"

Draco looked Harry directly in the eyes. He could tell Harry knew he recognized him, but there was still a pleading hope in those emerald green eyes.

"No, I don't think it is." He said firmly before retreating as fast as he dared. He was rather badly disfigured by the stinging hex. Probably Granger's doing. That insufferable know-it-all was always just ahead of him in marks. She was definitely clever enough to think of such a sneaky way to avoid trouble.

"What about the others? Aren't they Potter's friends? They probably know where he is if ugly over there isn't him." Aunt Bella hissed excitedly.

"Could be." Draco almost choked. "I never really interacted with them much. They're Gryffindors, you see."

His cheek earned him a backhanded slap from his aunt, but he had been expecting it. He was somewhat proud that he hadn't cried out at the pain. His eye felt like it was going to explode from the sheer force of the slap and it physically knocked him sideways. He had to stumble a little just to stay upright. If it saved Harry's life, it would be worth it.

"You DARE?!" She screamed, raising her hand to strike again, but his father caught her wrist.

"Enough. He said he doesn't recognize them. He has no reason to lie." he threw Aunt Bella away from them before straightening his robes with as much dignity as he could muster. "Let us not forget who the enemy is, here."

Draco had to physically restrain himself from staring open-mouthed at his father. He had never defended him before. In fact, he was usually the one doling out the blows. Aunt Bella looked like she was about to murder them both when something one of the snatchers was carrying caught her eye.

"Where did you get that?" She demanded in a deadly calm voice.

"I found it, fair and square. It's mine." The snatcher snapped.

With a violent flick of her wand, the snatcher in question dropped dead. A sword with a ruby hilt clattered to the ground with him and she rushed to snatch it up.

"Where did you get this?" She bellowed at the remaining snatchers. "Snape sent it directly to my vault in Gringotts! WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?"

"It w-w-was in their tent!" One of the terrified snatchers stammered.

Once she had the information she was after she stunned the lot of them and rounded on the Malfoys that were gathered around her.

"Draco, take this scum out to the courtyard. If you're too gutless to finish them, leave them for me to deal with later." She hissed.

"Don't you dare talk to my son like that."

Everyone turned to stare in shock at his mother. Her voice was weak and bland, but you could hear the underlying anger behind her words. Draco's heart started pounding in overtime. She was still there. Underneath all of the enchantments the Dark Lord has placed on her, his mother was still in there somewhere.

"You have no idea of the danger we are in!" shrieked Aunt Bella. She looked frightening, mad; a thin stream of fire issued from her wand and burned a hole in the carpet. "Draco! Bring the prisoners to the cellar. All except the mudblood."

The Weasel started screaming his head off, fighting against his restraints. He was yelling at his Aunt to take him instead of Granger and Draco had to give him credit for his bravery. She cut Granger loose anyway, promising the Weasel that he would be next.

Draco stepped forward and grabbed the ropes that bound the rest. There was a goblin and another Gryffindor from their year bound to Harry and the Weasel. He wondered passively why he hadn't noticed them before. He led them as gently as he could to the cellar, wincing when Granger started shrieking in pain.

"Get down there and don't make any noise, alright?" He hissed at the group, severing their ropes with his wand. "I can't do much, but I will try to help. Just stay quiet."

He didn't wait for their response, slamming and locking the cellar door. Salazar, why had he said that? The look on Harry's face flashed in his mind again and he sighed. Oh, right. That's why.

When he got back upstairs he stuck to the shadows, casting pain relief spells non verbally with his wand pointed surreptitiously at Granger. She was the brains of their operations so Draco needed to make sure she survived.

When they brought the goblin up to confirm Granger's story that the sword was a fake, Draco considered sneaking down to the cellar to release everyone down there. Just as he decided to risk it, Granger let out a blood-curdling scream. Aunt Bella had carved the word 'Mudblood' into her flesh. Draco bit back a grimace and resumed his spell casting.

A few moments later a loud crack echoed up from the cellar and he winced. He told them not to make any noise. He was relieved when Aunt Bella had told him to go check on them, but she changed her mind at the last second and sent Wormtail instead.

Shite.

Aunt Bella touched her mark to summon the Dark Lord.

Double shite.

It turned out he didn't need to worry, Harry and the Weasel were perfectly capable of saving themselves. They stormed the drawing-room together, casting curses every which way. Draco ducked and sent a stunner towards his aunt, hoping she wouldn't notice where the curse came from in the chaos. He missed.

Aunt Bella took control back by holding her silver knife to Granger's throat. That pulled the other Gryffindors up short. They dropped their wands and he was ordered to collect them. Finally, some luck at last. He held them loosely in his grip, trying to keep them at an easy-to-grab angle for when Harry worked out a backup plan.

A screeching sound from above alerted Draco that Harry didn't need one. Dobby, their old house-elf, was unscrewing the chandelier. Draco dove out of the way and tossed Harry the wands he was holding. Harry shot him a quizzical look but caught them, shooting off more stunners as he and his friends made their way back towards Dobby. His Aunt threw her knife just as all four of them disappeared with a deafening crack.

It was over. Harry had escaped. He had done what he could.

Fear took over as his main emotion as he remembered that the Dark Lord was on his way here, expecting Harry to be waiting for him like a sitting duck.

They were all dead.