Notes: The lovely image for this story was created by Anne Eriksson Agger. Thank you!
Harry Potter and his friends, enemies, and canon world are all owned by JK Rowling.
Saturday, May 2, 1998
Draco's heart sunk into his stomach as he watched the line of Death Eaters approaching and listened to the booming voice of his Dark Lord announcing their doom. No. He wasn't supposed to think of this as doom. Harry Potter's death would be cause for celebration, right? I'm one of them, Draco told himself, and tried to feel happy about it. Tried to feel happy about his dead classmate. Tried to feel happy that the last chance to escape the Dark Lord's terrifying regime was gone.
He could barely hear his master's speech over the rushing in his ears, so overwhelmed by exhaustion and emotion, Draco wasn't sure he could continue to stand. It had been such a long battle. Then Lucius stepped forward just a bit from the Death Eaters' front line, beckoning him over. His mother made it clear it was time for him to come back to their side. He could barely remember how he came to be standing on the side of good in the first place. Now that he was here, however...
He felt his feet start to shuffle. His survival instincts were kicking in, even while his heart was debating the move. His gaze was focused on his mother, but to the side, he could see that the Dark Lord was looking displeased, his wand starting to move upward. Draco knew he needed to move faster. He was too exhausted to withstand a crucio right now with any kind of dignity. And he was in enough trouble already if it was discovered what had happened. Suddenly, Lord Voldemort was screaming, then laughing maniacally as an angry hissing sound filled the courtyard.
Draco turned to see where the sound was coming from. Granger. The bushy-haired mudblood freak was standing above something billowing nasty black smoke from the ground, a fang of some sort held triumphantly over her head. He tried not to think it, but she looked like an avenging angel. The oily looking smoke came out as a hissing snake then formed into a terrifying version of the Dark Lord, hovering over them all and reaching out to murder oily little figures that flashed up as one soldier of good after another. Granger wasn't cowering, but tears streamed down her face as the phantom Dark Lord told her she was the only one left, that they were all dead or had abandoned the cause.
But there was her disgusting ginger sidekick right beside her. Ron Weasley took her hand and started shouting. "She'll never be alone! Harry may be gone, but he left us to finish the job. Dumbledore told us what to do and we're going to get it done!"
A cheer went up. Many voices cried out. "She has us!" "You can't take us down!" "Dumbledore's Army!"
Draco sneered as he recognized the call for that little Order kids' club from back in fifth year. He might not know what to think about his Dark Lord, but he certainly still knew how he felt about all of them. And especially that idiot Weasley, who stooped to pick up the smoking object. The smoke was starting to drain away. Laughing, the ginger threw it out into the courtyard between the two groups.
"There's your tiara, Snakeface. Sorry it's looking a little dark and twisted now."
The Dark Lord was clearly livid. And Draco was suddenly terrified as he realized what that "tiara" really was - Ravenclaw's Diadem. The Diadem he had been tasked with protecting at all costs. He was a dead man. All the near misses so far tonight were just going to mean a longer, more painful death. Probably for his family as well. It didn't matter that Lord Voldemort had given incredibly vague instructions. It didn't matter that Draco didn't know what the thing he was guarding looked like or where it was within the room. All that would matter is that he had failed again. The mark tethered him to the Dark Lord, but perhaps he could help his mother escape before…..he couldn't stand to think about what would come. There was no escape for him now.
"BLIMEY!" the half-giant carrying Harry's body suddenly bellowed. Draco had always despised that creature they had been forced to endure as a teacher. Hagrid was crying, apparently with joy, as he yelled, "E's breathin!" At that announcement, Harry Potter rolled out of Hagrid's arms just as the dazzling green light of the Dark Lord's avada would have hit him, taking down the half-giant instead. Potter gaped, pausing too long to stare before turning to run. A slicing curse from somewhere in the Death Eater crowd hit his leg, bringing him crashing to the ground. Suddenly, the battle erupted everywhere around them.
OooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooO
Just one more Horcrux left. And Harry was alive! Finishing off the Diadem meant they only had the snake to kill. Hermione held tight to Ron's hand as they pushed through the chaos around them. They had to get to Harry!
They were so focused, Ron didn't realize he had been hit until he fell over, completely paralyzed from the body-bind. Hermione dodged the one aimed at her. Yaxley was after them, she thought. Whispering a quick counter-curse, she was able to free Ron. She turned quickly, screaming, "Protego!" just in time to deflect a Sectumsempra from nearby. Glancing to the side when she heard Ron grunt, she saw that he was now dueling Yaxley. Beyond him, Professor Flitwick and Lupin were taking on Dolohov. To the side, she saw Justin Fitch-Fletchley, Seamus, and Susan Bones facing off against several masked Death Eaters. Molly Weasley had just finished taking one down across the room. A white-blond head dodged in and out behind a tapestry, throwing curses at Death Eaters. Hermione was certain she was seeing things because the only person with hair like that was Draco Malfoy.
Her momentary distraction allowed a stinging hex to hit her arm. It wasn't anything she couldn't handle, but got her attention. She shot a stunner at MacNair, who apparently had been aiming for Luna. She turned to head for Harry again, when, to her right, she heard the shrill laughter of a woman she had hoped to never face again.
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Neville gasped when Harry went to his knees right in front of him. He knew, as the member of Dumbledore's Army closest, it was his duty to back up Harry, get him on his feet and fighting. Or, as Harry tried to stand and failed, do the fighting for him. Neville began shooting curses toward Voldemort, who was advancing menacingly toward Harry. It was odd that he hadn't sent an avada at his friend again, but Neville was happy to draw the crazed wizard's attention away before he tried.
Harry gave up trying to stand as he watched Voldemort face off with the boy everyone had once considered hopeless at magic. Neville might not have a lot of finesse, but somewhere along the line, he had certainly found his power. He was holding his own. It wouldn't be enough to defeat him, but it was enough for the moment. Harry had to get his own spell in at a time when it wouldn't hit Neville, but was sure to take Voldemort down. Finally, he saw his opening.
"Expelliarmus!"
Neville's wand blasted over to Harry. Voldemort began to laugh, and then to advance toward Harry. For Harry, the sounds of battle receded so that it was just he and Voldemort. He knew, distantly, that someone was calling his name, but it was muted. In the eerie silence, Harry could suddenly hear a soft song, one he recognized instantly.
Fawkes! The beautiful phoenix swooped by, dropping the sorting hat at Neville's feet and flying straight at Voldemort's eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Neville reaching into the hat and pulling forth the sword of Gryffindor. Maybe the snake is nearby, Harry thought, hoping that Neville or someone might take it out before he and Voldemort finished their business. Harry struggled up from the ground despite the pain in his leg.
"Just you and me, Riddle. We were always meant to fight this final battle, you and I."
Voldemort laughed maniacally and responded with "Avada Kedavra!"
Harry barely threw up a shield, and not a very good one at that. He had expected more talking first. The shield almost held. It gave him time to dodge. When the spell broke through, the light was a pale yellow-green and just barely hit his left arm. The piercing laughter was all he heard for a moment. Then a surprised grunt just as things went black.
Neville had been bewildered when he pulled the sword out of the hat. As Harry crumpled to the ground, he knew exactly what to do with it. Silently, so as to give no warning above Voldemort's disturbing laughter, Neville charged straight at him, sword held like a lance with both hands. He plunged it straight through his goal, but not high enough. Neville rammed himself up against Voldemort and started trying to pull the sword out, planning for the heart next. A physical attack had not been expected and Voldemort was falling to the ground from his wound. It wasn't immediately fatal enough for Neville, but it was certainly enough to take the monster to the ground.
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Lucius Malfoy raced to his master's side, blowing the boy away from him with a well-aimed confrigo as he neared. Voldemort was barely conscious from the pain and the blood he was quickly losing.
"Cissy! Come attend our Lord." His wife knelt beside him. "Get him back to the Manor and healed. I'll join you soon enough."
"Lucius, I can't!"
"It wasn't a question."
"Draco! Lucious, if I must go, you have to swear to me you'll find him."
"Of course I won't leave the boy here. Now go!"
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With his beloved wife and the Dark Lord gone, Lucius breathed a sigh of relief. He stood, shot red sparks into the air and cast so that his voice would be heard in the ear of every Death Eater. "The Dark Lord wants prisoners as we return. Leave this place." Looking around, he saw only Neville Longbottom where there should have been Harry Potter as well. He grabbed the limp body in one hand, the discarded sword in the other, and disapparated home just long enough to drop the incarceroused boy in a heap by the sitting room door. Then he was back and searching.
He knew from that moment at the beginning, the moment he wouldn't come to them, that the worthless brat wasn't wearing his robes and mask like he should be. Was there nothing the child wouldn't fail at? At least that was a help now. The boy's hair wasn't long and flowing like his own, but how hard could it be to find someone with a glowing white-gold mop on their head? Harder, it seemed, than he had hoped.
Looking around, he saw his brother-in-law Rodolphus apparate away with a girl he didn't know. McGonagall was backed into a corner by Dolohov. Rowle was fighting down one of the Weasley boys, an older one Lucius thought. Fenrir scooped up an armload of little children - what they were even doing in the midst of a battle, he couldn't imagine. A girl he recognized as Pansy Parkinson grabbed on as Greyback disapparated back to the manor. Bellatrix was still battling. As he watched, Molly Weasley fell to the ground, the three girls she had been protecting crestfallen and terrified behind her. That was the moment he finally found what he was looking for.
Draco darted forward, out of his hiding place and headed toward the battle with his Aunt Bella. He didn't even notice his father standing to the side until Lucius grabbed him by the collar and spun them both around in apparition. They landed hard in the sitting room, surrounded by the chaos of the angry and the wounded.