Harry didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry as he lay face down on the floor of Dumbledore's office. Snape's memories had ended abruptly and spat him out, but he found he couldn't be arsed to care. He was never meant to survive. Dumbledore had been playing an intricate game of wizards chess, and he was nothing more than a pawn to be sacrificed. His true job was to walk calmly into the welcoming arms of death.
Dumbledore had done a clever job of wrapping up loose ends, having the last horcrux destroying the previous horcruxes along the way. Was he supposed to just accept his own death? Was his fate to fling himself defenselessly at Voldemort's feet so that he would be mortal once more? It was sickening how neatly it all worked out. Neither could live. Neither could survive.
His heart began pounding an erratic rhythm in his chest, pumping faster the more he thought about his death . It was ironic. His heart seemed to be trying to get a lifetime's worth of beating out before he sacrificed himself.
He pushed himself off of the dusty carpet and left without bothering to look at Dumbledoor's portrait. He didn't want to see those pale blue eyes x-ray him one last time. He let the office door slam shut behind him and raced down the spiral staircase. He couldn't bear to stand still.
He felt dirty.
He had a piece of Voldemort's soul inside of him. It was enough to make his stomach churn.
He felt used.
Dumbledore had raised him as a lamb for the slaughter, just like the evil git had said. Harry never even had a chance to choose for himself.
He felt betrayed.
He had trusted Dumbledore, yet all Dumbledore saw him as was expendable. A means to an end.
He swore softly when he noticed he was crying. Then he laughed at himself for being embarrassed. He was only about to die. Crying wasn't an overreaction. He took several deep breaths, then pulled out his invisibility cloak. He draped it around his shoulders quickly, pulling the hood snugly over his head.
As he walked he mulled it over. Maybe dying wouldn't be so bad. Maybe the pain would finally stop.
The pain of loss.
Tonks, Lupin, Fred, Sirius, Cedric, Hedwig, Dobby, his parents. He could see them again. No one else would have to die in his name. He wasn't worth it anyway.
The pain of neglect.
Every time his Aunt and Uncle locked him in his cupboard, every birthday spent doing chores or being bullied by Dudley, every time they denied him food because of his accidental magic. Every time he was hurting and needed a hug but got a slap and verbally abused instead. He never deserved love.
The pain of never being good enough.
Constantly feeling like he was, in fact, a waste of space. Never feeling like he deserved any of the praise he suddenly found himself drowning in when he turned eleven. Never feeling like he really belonged, or even mattered. He didn't deserve happiness.
The pain of being a burden.
Everyone would be so much happier if he weren't around to complicate their lives. Always feeling like he was holding Ron and Hermione back. Like Fred and George were only with him out of pity.
A sharp stab to the heart made him gasp.
The pain of losing Fred.
The pain of losing everything.
His resolve hardened and he quickened his pace. Perhaps he hadn't been unfairly raised for the slaughter. What if Dumbledore knew what a worthless piece of shit he was and was doing him one last favor from beyond the grave? Someone else could kill Voldemort and then the whole world would be that much better off without either of them in it.
The castle was eerily silent after the battle that had just ensued. He made his way quickly through the deserted halls and down empty staircases, never slowing, never faltering. Ron and Hermione would kill the snake, and then it would all be over. When he reached the entrance hall he could hear the mournful murmur of voices coming from the great hall, but he didn't stop. He didn't need to see the dead. He would be joining them shortly.
He walked numbly down the front steps and onto the grounds. Scores of people were running around, shouting, trying to treat the injured and count the dead.
No more.
No more would have to die in his stead. As he made his way to the Forbidden Forest he had to dodge fallen bodies and frantic helpers alike. He caught a whiff of something that reminded him of safety and happiness and his heart kicked into overdrive.
"It's alright, you're going to be fine. I promise." George's voice floated on the wind and Harry almost stopped.
He wanted to run to him. He wanted to be the one George was comforting. He wanted to be told to stay, that he was loved and needed and desired. That he didn't have to die. He wanted so badly to reveal himself and give George one last kiss, but he would only stop him from doing what needed to be done. He pressed on, leaving George behind. This was a trip he had to make alone.
Everything seemed sharper, more vibrant. It was as if all of his senses were determined to work to the fullest extent of their abilities before they ceased forever. He could see everything in sharp relief, as if he had just gotten a new pair of glasses. He could see the individual leaves on the trees. Everything looked ominous and foreboding in the pale moonlight. He could feel the crunch of wet grass and twigs beneath his feet. He could hear the wind and the distant shouts as people found more survivors back by the castle. He passed Hagrid's hut and all of the memories he had made there threatened to overwhelm him. He could smell the damp earth and death in the air and the overwhelming scent of trees as he drew nearer to the forest. Voldemort was waiting for him in that forest. His death loomed ever closer. The game was over, there were no moves left to make. The snitch had been caught.
The snitch!
Harry's heart skipped a beat as his fingers fumbled with the mokeskin pouch around his neck. He pulled the snitch Dumbledore had left him and put it up to his mouth. The familiar writing materialized.
I open at the close.
Harry felt that he finally understood what it meant.
"I am about to die." He whispered to it.
It cracked open, revealing Marvolo Gaunt's ring. The cracked black stone had the mark of the Deathly Hallows engraved into it and he suddenly knew what it was.
The resurrection stone.
He closed his eyes and turned it over three times. With a soft pop, five white figures joined him on the edge of the forest. Harry couldn't breathe for a moment. They were neither ghost, nor living flesh. They more or less resembled the Tom Riddle that had been trapped in the diary, more substantial than a ghost and yet not truly there.
He recognized his parents from the mirror of Erised and Hargrid's photo album. They were both gazing at him with identical smiles on their faces. James was exactly the same height as Harry. He was still wearing the clothes he had worn when he died with lopsided glasses and unruly black hair. Lily was positively beaming, her flaming red hair cascading down her back as her green eyes searched his face hungrily. Lupin and Sirius were both much younger than he had known them in life. They looked so vibrant and carefree.
The last figure was Fred, and Harry felt his throat close up.
"You didn't think I was going to just leave you like that, did you?" He smiled sadly.
Harry couldn't help it. He rushed forward to wrap him in a hug and stumbled when he only met air.
"We can't fully come back, sweetheart." His mother said gently. "We aren't meant for this plane anymore. We're only an echo."
Harry stared, drinking the sight of her in. She looked so beautiful.
"You've been so brave, Harry." James said proudly. "You're nearly there."
"Does it hurt?" He asked, slightly ashamed of the childish question.
"Dying? It's quicker and easier than falling asleep." Sirius grinned at him.
"And he will want it to be quick. He will want it over with." Lupin nodded sagely.
"I didn't want you to die." Harry felt a lump in his throat forming and he didn't bother to even try to choke it back. "I didn't want any of you to die. Fred, I'm so sorry," He sobbed, sinking to his knees in the face of his dead loved ones. "And Remus, you just had a son-"
"I'm sorry too. I am sorry that I will never know him, but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand that I died to make a world where he could have a happier life." Lupin assured him.
"Don't you dare go blaming yourself for my death." Fred said sternly. "I chose to stay and fight. I chose to be in that corridor. Just about the only thing I didn't choose was falling in love with you, you git. And that I will gladly do a thousand times over, because you're worth it, Harry."
"It's not fair. I shouldn't have survived when you didn't." He said weakly. "I should have died in your stead…"
Fred caught his gaze and Harry was trapped in a kaleidoscope of gold and brown.
"That has got to be the dumbest thing I've heard all night. Mind, I spent a solid couple of hours with Percy, so that's saying a lot." He scoffed. "You were meant to survive, love. And I'm happy to have known you- truly known you, for as long as I did."
"But I-"
"I love you, Harry James Potter. And I do not regret a thing." Fred reached out to touch him, stopping just before he would have made contact and let his hand drop.
A chilly breeze emanated from within the forest, making him shiver. He knew they would never tell him to go. It had to be his decision.
"You'll stay with me?" He looked each one of them in the eye. The resolve he found in each pair gave him strength.
"Until the very end." James smiled warmly.
"The boy… is he dead?" a cruel, cold voice rang out across the small clearing.
The Dark Lord's words were met with silence. No one seemed to want to be the bearer of bad news if Potter wasn't.
"You," Voldemort turned his wand on Narcissa and she flinched, bracing for the pain. It came in the form of a shouted command via the imperious curse and a quick burning hex to the shoulder. She cried out briefly at the double onslaught, then collected herself. "Examine him. Tell me if he's really dead."
Narcissa took a deep breath, then hastened to do as she was told. She could feel her rage and fear simmering around the edges of the curse, trying to break through and free her. The Dark Lord, however, was too strong. His will dominated hers and she had no choice but to obey.
She knelt next to the Potter boy and her heart softened just a little. He looked so incredibly young laying there. His untidy black hair and round-rimmed spectacles bespoke of a strangely charming innocence and all at once she understood Draco's secret flame for the boy. She touched his face hesitantly and almost jerked back in shock when she felt warm breath escaping from his nostrils. Curiosity had her pulling back his eyelid. His pupil dilated in the firelight and her breath caught in her chest.
He was alive!
Her hands found their way beneath his shirt, checking for something that might have negated the spell. She found nothing. His skin was perfectly smooth and she could feel his heart pounding against his ribs. How could a little teenage boy survive the killing curse?
Hope consumed her like a roaring fire. Her thoughts turned to Draco. She might be able to save him.
It happened so suddenly she almost passed out from the shock. The carefully controlled calm was disintegrating. It felt like someone had poured acid directly onto her brain and it took all of her willpower to stay silent as the damned bubble that kept her a slave to the Dark Lord's will burst. All of the pain and anger and fear she had been denied to feel came rushing back to her now and she couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips.
She was free.
She was finally free. Narcissa bent her head close to Potter's ear, shielding them from the Dark Lord's gaze with her hair.
"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?" she demanded, breathing the words softer than any whisper.
"Yes." Potter's reply was equally quiet and her fingers spasmed, driving her nails into his chest before she drew them back. She pushed herself up and away from the boy.
"He is dead." She called clearly and calmly as she retook her place beside Lucius. She gave him a long measuring look and was pleased when a spark of life returned to his eyes. Good. After all this time, their silent communication had not been diminished. He nodded his head ever so slightly to show that he understood.
They were going to save Draco.
Narcissa struggled to keep her face impassive as the Dark Lord crucioed the boy. Of course he couldn't leave his presumed corpse unsullied. He had to prove his superiority. She forced herself to laugh as the rest of the death eaters broke into a fit of jeers and cheering. If the Dark Lord thought he had lost control of her everything they had done to protect Draco would have been for naught.
She found herself impressed by Harry Potter. He stayed limp, allowing the Dark Lord to throw him into the air and toruture him without so much as twitching a muscle. He truly was a remarkable boy. She reached down and grabbed Lucius's hand, interlocking their fingers. The simple act of physical contact with her husband acted as an anchor for her. As long as they had each other, she could face anything.
They watched in silence as the Dark Lord forced the half-giant to carry Potter in his arms. He was wailing shamelessly and some of their party found it amusing. They cackled with glee at his distress and hurled insults at him as he passed them to spearhead the conquering army with the Dark Lord. Narcissa found it heartbreaking.
How could anyone be so cruel as to mock someone who was mourning the death of a loved one? She couldn't remember how they ended up in this position. It seemed like lifetimes ago that Lucius came back from a mandatory meeting with the heads of the most notable pureblooded families with a blank expression and a new found cold indifference.
Narcissa fell in line, still holding tightly to Lucius as they began to march out of the forest and towards Hogwarts as one. She tutted impatiently when he released her hand to pick something up off the forest floor. A wand? She only caught a glimpse of it as he slipped it into his robe pocket, but she would recognize that wand anywhere.
It was Draco's wand. The wand Potter had been using. A plan began forming in her mind as they walked. The more she strategized, the more confident she became that all three of them just might make it out of this alive.
"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself as you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that he is gone. The battle is won. You have sustained heavy losses, and your supposed hero is finished. The Boy Who Lived lives no more. Any who continue to resist me will be slaughtered. Lord Voldemort does not differentiate between man, woman or child, every member of every family that continues to fight will be wiped out. Come out of the castle now and kneel before your new Master. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will all be forgiven. Join me, and we shall build a brave new world together."
Dread dripped into Draco's heart at the Dark Lord's words. It was impossible. It couldn't be over. They had fought too hard, survived through too much. He numbly followed the crowd of students and teachers and Order members out onto the grounds. Before he had a clear view of the lawn a terrible scream rent the air.
"NO!"
The scream was all the more terrifying because he had never expected that the eternally composed Professor McGonagall could make such a sound. A familiar maniacal laugh chilled him to the bone. Aunt Bella seemed to relish in McGonagall's despair and he felt like he would be sick. The people in front of him shifted, all yelling and crying out in agony and finally Draco saw why.
Harry was dead.
Harry was dead, laying in the big oaf's arms, limp and unmoving.
His world stopped spinning and his vision pinned. The only thing he could see was Harry's wasted face. He heard the Dark Lord call for silence as if he were at the far end of a very long tunnel. Hagrid jerked, moving Harry's body, shakily placing him at the Dark Lord's feet. The Weasel was shouting something, and it seemed to rally the crowd but Draco still could not pry his eyes away from Harry. They were all silenced again and the Dark Lord droned on, but Draco didn't hear a word. The spell was easily broken once more and there was a flash of commotion to Draco's left yet he still could not look away.
Harry couldn't be dead. He just couldn't.
A flash of brilliant green stopped Draco's heart. Harry had opened his eyes. He was sure of it! Just the smallest hint of emerald peeked out from behind his eyelashes. Draco blinked rapidly and then squinted, hoping against all hope that he was right. Harry still looked completely and utterly dead, no sparking green shining in the light that was spilling across the lawn from inside the castle. He couldn't have simply imagined it, could he?
"I'll never join you." Longbottom's voice cut through the fog in his brain but he didn't dare take his eyes off Harry. He might open his eyes again at any moment. "I'd rather die. Dumbledore's Army!"
There was a roarous answering cry from the students around him and Draco marveled that the Dark Lord's silencing charms didn't seem to stick.
"Very well," The Dark Lord's tone was dangerously smooth, like poisoned honey. "If that is the fate you choose, then on your own head be it."
There! Just now! Draco saw Harry's eyes open infinitesimally.
He almost cheered. The sense of relief he felt was staggering as he let loose a breath he hadn't been aware that he was holding. The shattering of glass caught his attention and Draco noticed a black blur flying towards the Dark Lord. He caught it by the tip, revealing it to be the sorting hat.
"There will be no more sorting at Hogwarts school." The Dark Lord said conversationally, stroking Nagini's snout as she coiled around his shoulders.. "There is only one house now. All of the others are obsolete. The emblem, shield and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone."
He pointed his wand at Longbottom, immobilizing him so he could force the sorting hat over his head. By unspoken consent both sides drew their wands. They stood in a stalemate against each other with the Dark Lord and Longbottom in the middle of no man's land.
"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to those foolish enough to continue to oppose me." with a lazy flick of his wand the Dark Lord set fire to the sorting hat, eliciting a scream from Longbottom.
He was able to break the Dark Lord's body bind curse just as easily as the silencing charm and he threw the hat off his head. When it hit the grass it stopped burning and a glittering ruby hilt could be seen poking out from underneath the brim.
Longbottom grabbed at the sword and swung around, brandishing it at the Dark Lord. He laughed as he deflected the blow, sending the sword flying. It landed roughly ten feet away from where Draco stood and he looked over at Harry. He was still laying as still as a stone at the Dark Lord's feet. He had said the snake was the last Horcrux. If he killed the snake, the Dark Lord would be mortal once more.
Without stopping to think it through any further, he pushed past the students in front of him and grabbed the sword by it's hilt. It vibrated violently in his grasp and he almost dropped it. He gripped it tighter and, after a moment, it seemed to accept him as its wielder. It stopped trying to shake itself out of his hands and started to feel more like an extension of his own arm. The words 'Godric Gryffindor' glinted in the moonlight before Draco raised it and charged at the Dark Lord.
The Dark Lord blinked in shock for only a moment before bringing up his wand and firing a curse at him. He had an almost bored expression on his face, like he had anticipated Draco's betrayal. Draco dodged the purple jet of light and yanked the sword up. It sliced open the Dark Lord's sleeve before decapitating the gigantic snake still writhing around his shoulders.
Nagini's head fell to the grass with a final thud and several things happened at once. The Dark Lord let out a howl of rage and turned his wand on him, pointing it directly at his heart. With the killing curse dancing upon the Dark Lord's lips, the ground started shaking. A tremendous roar could be heard in the distance and it looked like the mountains themselves were advancing on the castle.
The entire front lawn erupted into chaos and Draco was spared. He ducked around the Dark Lord and tried to blend in with the others. Reinforcements for the Order were screaming a battle cry as they charged towards the group gathered on the grounds. The next moment revealed house elves pouring out of the castle brandishing cookware as weapons. Giants and centaurs were joining the fray from behind, causing the death eaters to scatter in surprise. The pounding of the giants' feet caused the ground to shudder and shake, knocking some people off balance. Draco scanned the ground for Harry and had a small panic attack when he couldn't find him.
He was gone.
The fight was slowly moving indoors and Draco let himself get lost in the crowd as he transfigured his Slytherin tie into a scabbard. He sheathed the glittering sword, ruby red complimenting emerald green. He wanted to keep it as a momento. A talisman to remind him that Gryffindors aren't the only morons allowed to be brave. That Slytherins could be heroic too. He attached the scabbard to his hip, tying it around his waist beneath his robes. He was pleased to find it fit comfortably.
A commotion at the top of the stairs caught Draco's attention and he shook his head in disgust. The Dark Lord was throwing his death eaters and students alike behind him in his haste to get away from the trampling feet of the giants. There was no honor among murderers, apparently.
When Draco glanced to his left he stopped dead in his tracks. A few people pushed him and shouted at him for being in the way but he didn't care. He had finally spotted Harry, and he was off to the side with the most unlikely person imaginable. He moved closer, unsure if he was going to have to save Harry from his father or not. He had his back to Draco, but his voice rang out loud and clear.
"Did you lose something, Potter?" He asked, holding out an object Draco couldn't see.
"Draco's wand." Harry said reverently, cradling his hawthorn wand. "I lost it in the forest. How did you-"
"It fell out of your robes while he… while he crucioed you." His father's voice sounded suddenly strained. "No one else noticed, so I picked it up. Draco won himself a new wand, but I figured you might need it."
"You have no idea." Harry laughed bitterly. "Thank you."
"Think nothing of it." His father turned, swishing his robes in a very Malfoy-ish fashion. When he caught Draco watching him he gave him a very formal nod in greeting and moved on.
Draco stared after him in shock. He couldn't help himself. His eyes immediately sought him out. When Draco looked back over Harry flashed him a small smile before wrapping himself in a silvery fabric and disappearing from view. Draco let out a crazed laugh, hardly daring to believe his eyes.
They just might survive this.
Draco turned and followed the tail end of the crowd through the castle doors and into the Great hall. Small duels had broken out here and there, but the most ferocious battles took center stage in the middle of the hall.
The Dark Lord was dueling McGonagall, Slughorn and an auror Draco didn't recognize all at once and he was holding his own. Come on, he silently begged, someone- anyone. He's mortal now. Just kill him. Please.
Not fifty feet away his Aunt Bella was also dueling three opponents at once. Draco was impressed by the nerve of Granger and Lovegood. They were putting up quite a fight. He was only mildly surprised to see Pansy as their third partner. She gave as good as she got, flinging hexes at an impressive speed. His aunt let out a delighted shriek and he felt an all too familiar spike of panic. That sound was usually the preamble a gruesome murder. He shot a stunning spell at her as he ran towards them, but missed by mere centimetres. She sent off a flaming dragon to keep the girls occupied and spun on the spot, her eyes growing wide when she spied him. He stopped moving and raised his wand in a defensive stance. She wouldn't take him down easily. He could at least buy the others some time to recover.
"You would dare, spawn of my blood?" She hissed, closing the distance between them.
Draco took half a step back to secure his footing, then squared his shoulders and faced her with dignity.
"You attacked my friends. Treated me like rubbish. Tortured me and my family in our own home with zero repercussions." Draco's voice grew stronger and louder with each word. All of the pain and rage over the last two years came bubbling to the surface. "The real question, dear Auntie, is how did you dare?" He snarled before shooting off another stunning spell. Hundreds of people now lined the walls of the entrance hall, watching the two duels with rapt attention; the Dark Lord facing the best of the Order of the Phoenix, and himself against his Aunt.
She ducked out of the way of his next curse just in time and threw a blue jet of light in his direction which he easily sidestepped. He hadn't intended on dueling his Aunt, but now that he was he felt a perverse sense of cathartic release. She was fast and had impeccable reflexes, but so did he. He held his own for a fair amount of time before she started bearing down on him, backing him into a literal corner.
"NOT MY SON, YOU SHREW!"
Draco's heart soared at the sound of his mother's voice. Aunt Bella whipped around and started laughing.
"You would duel me, Cissy?" She mocked. "Your own sister?"
His mother shot off a killing curse so fast Draco didn't even see her wand move. Aunt Bella didn't stand a chance. Her taunting smile froze on her face as his mother's curse found its mark.
"Rule one of a duel, never let your guard down." She scoffed as her sister fell.
Draco's silver eyes met hers for an instant before they were both running towards each other. The Dark Lord bellowed in fury at the loss of his most trusted, blasting his three opponents back into the crowd. He rounded on Draco and his mother, who were embracing.
Draco stiffened when he noticed the Dark Lord move towards them and shoved his mom behind him, facing the Dark Lord with his head held high.
"Well aren't the Malfoy's just a rotten bunch." The Dark Lord hissed, slowly advancing on them. "You're a disgrace to wizard kind, killing your own kin. I believe it is high time I took out the trash. Avada-"
"PROTEGO!" someone roared, casting one of the strongest shield charms Draco had ever seen between them. The Dark Lord struggled against the shield, but to no avail. They all looked around for the source of the charm and Draco didn't bother to stop the cheer that erupted from his throat when Harry pulled off an invisibility cloak.
There were multiple cries of "Harry!" and "He's alive!" echoing around the hall, but when the Dark Lord let out another furious snarl they all fell silent.
They started circling each other at the exact same moment and Draco rushed to pull his mother and himself out of their path.
"I don't want anyone to interfere." Harry's voice was shockingly calm and Draco's admiration for him only grew. "It's got to be like this, it has to be me."
"Oh, but Potter doesn't mean that, does he? That isn't how you work. You're a survivor, just like me. Who are you going to use as a shield this time? Hmm?" The Dark Lord jeered.
"Nobody. There are no more horcruxes. There is no one else to die for me. It's just us two." Harry didn't take his eyes off the Dark Lord. "Neither can live while the other survives."
There was a commotion to one side and everyone but Harry and the Dark Lord turned to look. Augustus Rookwood pushed his way into the circle, took one look at the situation and pointed his wand at Harry's back.
"NO!" Draco cried.
He heard his father's voice mutter something behind him and watched in awe as Rookwood fell into a crumpled mass on the ground. He was screaming and twitching in pain as his father advanced on him.
"Only a coward attacks his opponent when his back is turned." He sneered down at him before knocking him unconscious with a swift kick to the head.
The group of people around them that had seen what happened burst into polite applause, causing Harry to look over. He made eye contact with Draco's father and gave him a curt nod before turning back to the Dark Lord.
"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Don't you ever listen? The wand chooses the wizard. The Elder wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who had never even touched it. They removed it from Dumbledore against his will without even realizing what they had done, or that the most powerful wand in existence had given them it's allegiance. The true master of the Elder wand was Draco Malfoy." Harry gave off an air of confidence and Draco's blood drained from his face.
He was the master of the Elder wand? The Deathstick? The Wand of Destiny?
"Enough of these childish distractions!" The Dark Lord shrieked. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to us. We both no longer have our connected cores. Tonight we duel on skill alone. Once I kill you, I will kill Draco Malfoy." he sneered.
"You're too late, you missed your chance. I overpowered Draco months ago. I took his wand from him before escaping the Manor," Harry only had eyes for the Dark Lord once again, raising Draco's wand in evidence.
A small shiver ran up his spine. This was neither the time, nor place, but the way Harry had said his name sent a small thrill through him. He clenched his fist around the wand he had stolen from one of the many death eaters that had been staying at the Manor. When he had tossed Harry their wands back he had thrown his own by accident. Draco didn't really mind, the Hawthorn wand had been used to torture his mother. He never wanted to use it again. Harry had technically taken it from him, though, which must mean that….
"Does the wand in your hand know its last master was disarmed? Because if it does… then I am the true master of the Elder wand."
Dawn broke and the entire hall was suddenly bathed in a warm red glow. Both combatants flinched as the light hit their faces, but they each recovered quickly.
"Avada Kadavra!
"Expelliarmus!"
The two spells collided in mid air, sounding like cannon fire. Draco watched the Elder wand arc high, dark against the brilliant sunrise. It spun across the room, sailing towards the master that it would not kill. With the unerring skill of a seeker, Harry plucked the wand from the air. The Dark Lord fell backward, arms splayed, killed by his own rebounding curse. He hit the floor with anticlimactic finality and total silence fell.
"We're free." Draco choked on his relief as his parents wrapped him in a suffocating hug. "We're finally free."