The Dark Mark pulsed on Draco's forearm at the same time his father jerked up his sleeve and revealed his own mark. They were being summoned.
"It's time," his father said gravely. Tension swept through them, all but his aunt who grinned with glee and began cackling.
"Here," his mother said, crossing to him. She held out her wand. "Take mine. You'll need it."
"But you won't—" he started to protest but she shoved the weapon into his hand.
"Take it, Draco. I won't have you go into a battle unarmed." She smiled grimly. "Don't worry. Your father will protect me."
Draco nodded and took the wand.
-o-
Dead.
Draco sprinted through the castle, dodging spellfire, frantically searching each crowded room and littered hallway that had become a veritable battlefield.
Dead.
He was sweating, panting, fear and desperation and grief boiling over inside him. Where was she? He had to find her.
Crabbe was dead.
Draco threw his back against the wall, ducking into a recess and trying to make himself invisible as he struggled to catch his breath. Pain ripped across his chest with every breath he dragged in. He squeezed his eyes shut and mentally counted to three, then pushed on again, desperation driving him.
His surprised eyes as he fell. His scream as he was consumed by Fiendfyre.
From the moment the Dark Lord had summoned his servants to the final stand at Hogwarts, Draco had only two thoughts: get his wand and find Amaris. His mother's wand didn't respond to him like he needed it to. It didn't understand him! He needed his own to stand a chance at protecting Amaris and his family. But that had ended worse than he could have imagined…
Dead silence hung between him and the flames, but he had to keep climbing, terror shaking his limbs.
He had known Crabbe his entire life… How could he be dead? Draco saw it with his own two eyes, but it hardly seemed real. He was just a kid! It wasn't fair—it wasn't right! None of this was supposed to happen this way.
The Fiendfyre screamed after him.
Now, his only concern was finding Amaris and getting out of this place before he lost someone else. So he ran, and he refused to raise his wand unless absolutely necessary, avoiding both students and Death Eaters alike—he considered neither group to be his allies—and he looked for any sign of long, blond hair. Where was Theo? Wasn't he protecting her? Maybe he had taken her somewhere safe already. Or maybe he had joined the Death Eaters after all. Draco didn't know, deep down, which side his friends had landed on. Theo, Pansy, Blaise—he should know their hearts, but he didn't. He wished he did. Why didn't he? Had he really been that blind—that self-absorbed?
He reached the top of the precarious pile of junk and stared across a sea of fire. He was going to die.
Where were they? Where was she?
He deserved to die.
Where was she?!
-o-
Draco bolted up the stairs and took a turn onto the next floor. A head of blond stopped him dead in his tracks. He recognized her small, petite figure instantly and moved toward her. Her wand was striking the air, spells flashing across the room. The bodies of several Death Eaters and Hufflepuffs littered the ground, but there were even more people standing, fighting.
"Amaris!" he shouted.
She whirled around, her eyes wide, hope lighting them just a moment before he raised his wand. She squeezed her eyes shut and hunched down, covering her face just as he fired a spell over her shoulder. The Death Eater targeting her was blasted back, knocking over one of his fellows in the process. She glanced over her shoulder as he crossed to her, standing up just as he reached down to pull her to her feet.
"Draco!" she exclaimed—and that was relief in her voice, not surprise or fear—he was sure of it.
"We have to go," he said, tugging her toward the hallway.
"Draco—"
"Now."
Draco pulled her into the hallway as magic zipped past them, driving them against the wall. He turned a corner and kept running until he came upon a recess. He pushed her into the alcove and slipped in beside her, panting. Her arms flew around his neck, body colliding with his as she embraced him.
"I was so worried," she sobbed. "I thought you were dead."
Draco hugged her back, but he didn't explain what had happened at Easter, why he never returned or sent word. There would be time for that later, when they were far away from this war. Instead, he pulled her tightly against him, flinching at every spell that struck close enough to make the walls shake.
"He's dead," he rasped, the words spilling out of him like water boiling over a cauldron. "Crabbe is dead…"
She pulled back far enough to look him in the eyes, sorrow breaking in her gaze. Her lower lip quivered as she gently touched his cheek. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "Draco, I'm so sorry…"
"We have to leave."
"But…"
"We have to get away from here."
"I can't do that."
"You've done enough, Amaris!"
"Not until we've won."
Draco frowned, gazing into her eyes. Even with tears in them, he saw so much resolve. But it would only get her killed. All of those people out there killing each other—it was pointless. Either the Dark Lord would win or, somehow, beyond all hope, he would lose, and then there would just be a mountain of corpses to celebrate. None of the dead Death Eaters had paved the way for their master, had inflicted so much damage as to win him even one small victory. They had just died. And the students and teachers he had grown up with, the ones lying cold and stiff on the Hogwarts' grounds? They hadn't achieved anything. Not for Dumbledore or Harry Potter or each other. They were just dead. And Crabbe? He hadn't hurt the Golden Trio in the slightest, only murdered himself. This death was all so bloody pointless!
"Until you're a corpse on the ground, you mean?" he snapped. He saw the tick in her facial muscles, that reflex of fear. She didn't want to die. She was trying to be brave.
"No," she told him. "But…"
He waited for her to verbally accept her fate. After all, she had said she didn't want to live in a world shaped by Voldemort. Didn't that mean she would rather die? How could he convince her to leave with him? If he cast a sleep spell, perhaps…or maybe used the Imperius Curse? She would hate him for it, but at least she would be alive. He had to make sure she survived this war. He couldn't bear any more pain.
"…if you're worried, then you could always just stay with me," she said.
Draco reached up and brushed her hair away from her face, clinging to her like a lifeline. The spell to control her was on the tip of his tongue, begging to be spoken. "I could make you, you know," he whispered. She tensed beneath him, but her gaze remained steadily locked on his. "I could make you leave with me."
Amaris just looked at him, as if in challenge. Her eyes said, "You wouldn't do that," but her lack of argument, the way she remained in his arms, told him she wouldn't fight him if he did. A pregnant silence swelled between them, punctured only by the occasional strike of a spell or a distant shout. Draco tightened his hold on her, opened his mouth to say the words, but hesitated. A spell struck close to them and they both flinched.
Draco pulled her against him again and she hugged him back, and they held one another as light flashed by the recess, the danger coming closer.
A whisper through their minds was sharp and hissing. The Dark Lord commanded the Death Eaters to withdraw, and Harry Potter to come and face him. In an instant, all noise ceased and the trembling castle stilled. Had the fighting really stopped? They crept out of the recess and back down the hallway to find students and professors stumbling about to treat their injured allies.
As if in a daze, they made their way down to the Great Hall where everyone clustered for aid and gathered the deceased. The sobs and screams clanged against his bones, driving his gaze to the ground in guilt. He focused on Amaris, his hand in hers, in an attempt to block out everything else.
"Where have you been?" Theo exclaimed. Draco looked up in surprise to find him and Blaise rushing toward them. He didn't know if Theo was talking to him or Amaris, but neither got a chance to answer before the Slytherin boy had hooked an arm around each of their necks and pulled them in simultaneously for a short hug before jerking back and giving them a quick once-over. "You both look okay," he said.
"You were supposed to watch out for her," Draco spat.
"I was," Theo said, "but we got separated when a wall collapsed. By the time I made it around the debris, she was gone."
Amaris looked sheepish. "I'm sorry. We had to keep moving." She looked at Blaise. "I thought you evacuated with the other Slytherins."
Blaise straightened. "We went for reinforcements," he said. "Professor Slughorn helped us round up more fighters in Hogsmeade and we came back."
Theo clapped him on the shoulder and Amaris smiled softly. Draco grimaced, trying to process everything he had seen, everything he'd heard, trying to reconcile it with everything he had grown up believing, all of his experiences at home and at school. It was as difficult to believe as everything else happening in these dark times. Slytherins had evacuated only to gather reinforcements and join the battle, fighting for Hogwarts? It was such a jarring fact. Maybe he hadn't known them as well as he thought he did, or maybe they had changed like Draco had…
Even if he still struggled with his beliefs about Muggle-borns, he did not want to hurt them. Even though he had mocked Hogwarts and its late headmaster, he didn't want to see the school destroyed. He didn't have to like Potter and his friends to not want them murdered, and they didn't have to like him to save his life. Draco did not want the Dark Lord to win, to shape the wizarding world into a world built on fear, and neither did any of the people fighting against him. They didn't have to agree on anything else but that.
"It's alright, mate," Theo mumbled, as if reading his thoughts. "Come on."
They all shifted out of the way, finding a wall to huddle against. They stood together as if in mockery of his mother's Christmas photo, their clothes torn and dusty, their faces grim and somber, each pair of eyes absorbing the grief and torment around them. They didn't utter a single word amongst them until a seventh-year Ravenclaw named Holly stopped in front of them with a tray of hot drinks. She offered them each a cup, but only Blaise and Amaris took one.
"Thank you," Amaris said quietly. The girl nodded, lingering as her eyes trailed over the four of them.
"What?" Draco snapped.
"It's just strange," Holly said, unphased by his temper, "to find a Hufflepuff surrounded by Slytherin bodyguards."
Amaris straightened in surprise as Draco stiffened, Theo chuckled, and Blaise raised his eyebrows. Holly cracked a genuine smile.
"But I guess it's not the strangest thing to happen this year," she said and turned to go. Hesitating, she glanced back at them and asked, "Or is it?" And then walked on.
Theo laughed louder and Amaris stared into her cup of tea, embarrassed.
-o-
It was all a blur—the two sides facing off, his parents beckoning him forward, Amaris grasping his hand, shaking her head, begging him not to go. But he had to. They were his parents. Maybe they weren't his only allies in the world, not his only family, but they were still both of those things and he loved them. He didn't want to see them punished for his choices.
And so he went. The Dark Lord's arms came around his shoulders. His breath smelled foul, his skin was clammy, and his touch made Draco's stomach churn. Then everything was happening so fast. Potter was alive, darting across the courtyard, locked in battle with the Dark Lord. Death Eaters and Hogwarts defenders leapt into the fray immediately, and before Draco knew what he was doing, he was running toward the castle.
His parents chased him, but he had to find her. This need drove him recklessly into the battle, throwing spells at every threatening figure that crossed his path. Until he found her. Until he used himself to shield her, and he fought back. Until the miracle happened that changed everything.
Harry Potter killed the Dark Lord.
For a moment, there was stunned silence…and then Death Eaters began fleeing in droves. The Order chased them. Students and professors rushed to the aid of the injured. But Draco just kept staring at the spot where the Dark Lord used to be, at the ashes that scattered around a smear on the ground.
He was dead. Disbelief was slowly overtaken by relief. He was dead and they were free. Draco looked at his parents standing behind him, grasping his shoulders. He looked at Amaris beside him, her small hand in his. Elation flooded him, bubbling quietly beneath his skin. Somehow, they had all managed to survive.
Tears sprang into his eyes that he quickly blinked away.
Author's Note: I debated long and hard about the book canon versus the movie canon for many moments in this chapter. Goyle's death would've had more of an impact on both Draco and Amaris, but it also felt like illegitimate drama since Crabbe was not in the film due to a behind-the-scenes reason, so I decided to stick with Crabbe being the one to die. When it came to the confrontation with Voldemort, I really liked the way the movie handled it, so I used that sequence, but I was still able to shanghai the Malfoys into the book canon after all!
Honestly, I struggled with how much of the final battle to cover. I don't like to focus too long on events we've already seen in the movies and books, but this was a pretty important moment.
I apologize for how long it's taken me to get this latest update out. April has been a bit of a challenge for me. Thank you all so much for your dedication to this story and your kind reviews. I am so happy that you're all enjoying this journey!