T/W: This chapter is gruesome (for me, at least). PM me for a synopsis if you prefer, or stop reading after "Voldemort!"
If you decide to read it, I hope it gives you pause to think of all the things that could have gone better for our characters.
Vine
We return to the Room of Hidden Things to find several degenerates lying blankly behind a severe containment charm. The wards are so hot a blast of warm air assaults me as I open the door. Luna's palpable absence has my senses tuned to an excruciating degree as I pine for her voice. The screech of Flitwick vexatiously cuts through the hundred or so others murmuring their battle preparations.
"Oh, you always were terribly excellent at charms, Narcissa! Horribly, unfairly superb at the craft!" I see Mother nodding along politely with not even a trace of encumberment in her features. She responds to him with something I can't catch over the rumbling crowd. "Oh, yes, useful indeed!" Flitwick squeaks, his voice growing impossibly more shrill. "Imploding, you say? Menacingly, horrifically advantageous! I imagine if any of them dare to attempt their freedom…"
I endeavour to tune out the piercing tonality as I peruse the room for Potter. The flight back from corralling terrified schoolchildren has given me the perfect amount of time to contemplate how to best approach the idiot.
I catch sight of his disgustingly grease-filled black hair atop a gaggle of his cowing admirers. He appears to be standing upon one of the unsightly fungi to speak to those assembled. I raise my Occlumency shields to produce my most intimidating glare as I pass through the crowd untouched.
"Potter!" I exclaim above the drowning chaos, tilting my chin high to meet his vacant eyes.
He leaps down from his perch to make his way to me. The sea of sycophants parts for him, leaving the two of us alone amidst the hoard.
"Draco. You got all the kids rounded up?"
"We did," I quip coldly. "They're ready for transport immediately."
"Good on you then," he says, casting his eyes to the ground in preparation to depart.
I grasp him by the shoulder, forcing him to stay fast.
"The plan?" I ask through gritted teeth.
"Same as before," he says, placing a laughable amount of depth in his voice. "Kids out the door first. Then, once they get here, we knock them out, kill the rest." His throat bobs around the idea.
"No," I growl "the plan for Hermione."
He eyes me up and down as if I've made a terrible departure from etiquette; as if he would know a trifle about niceties.
"She's with Tonks like your aunt said." he imprudently snaps at me.
I count to ten to steady myself from wrapping my hands around his feeble neck among several people who would welcome the opportunity to hex me.
"You idiot," I reply in lieu of physical violence, taking a step forward to ensure he is the only one who might hear. "By the time we make it out of this hell - and rest assured I plan for every last one of us to survive - you will have a plan to care for her, or I shall relieve you of that obligation."
"How fucking dare you," the scar-faced simpleton replies, his dog-like eyes narrowing to slits.
I back away, granting him the full force of my smile.
"Oh I assure you, I fucking dare, Potter. Think about that with every spell you fire today."
"After everything I've done for Luna, Malfoy," he spits "Once a snake, always a snake." His nostrils flare with an attempt at a sneer.
"Serpents slither together, Potter. Be a lion, you spineless bastard."
I continue pacing in reverse as he does the same. Excellent. At the very least he's not moronic enough to turn his back to me.
xoXOXox
I reunite with Draco after all of the children have been successfully evacuated. Seeing the overwhelming fear in them breaks my heart. So many of the first years were clutching blankets and sniffling into them as we ushered them into the cold, wet corridor. They seemed so small and innocent in their dragon print pyjamas and pygmy-puff slippers. I hope they'll be able to return to school soon.
Others were fascinated by the wards, some older children cheering when they saw who was enclosed in them. It was a chore to keep them from getting close enough to be incinerated. One of the young Ravenclaws pulled on my sleeve to look up at me with the biggest, softest brown eyes I had ever seen to tell me 'thank you'. I wrapped her in a hug and assured her we would all try our best to get her back in the classroom before next term. I plan to make good on my word to her.
"Are you in there, lovely? Nargles got your tongue?" Draco says gently, brushing my hair out of my eyes in nervous congeniality.
"Yes," I tell him, "Just thinking about the little ones."
He pulls me into his chest, consoling me with his scent.
"They're in the safest places they can be, love."
He's unfortunately correct. All of the danger is coming straight to us. It doesn't help me feel much better though, considering we can get to any place in this country via a three-hour train ride. They aren't far enough away from the carnage for me to feel at ease about it.
"I wish we could have gotten them out farther," I tell him.
"It's truly a shameful disservice to Wizardkind that you don't control every foreign Ministry, my love. If you did, the world would be a much safer place."
I snuggle into the crook of his arm, leaning my head against his shoulder.
"I just wish we could have done more," I admit.
"Where's my optimist?" he asks, stroking my hair. "We did the best we could, love. Once we assuage our country of these morally inept bastards, you can run for Minister and we'll never have to worry about the children again, okay?"
I think about his words for a moment. I reflect on a future with fluffy blondes reminiscent of marshmallows. I try to imagine them not being afraid of rival houses or being tormented because they're unique. I remember how distraught Draco was when he left his mother, and envision that feeling replaced by perfect contentment as our family is never torn apart again.
It's with this thought I cast my patronus. The silver hare bounds from the tip of my wand. I give it a message to send to dad.
"Dad, I did what I should. I'm proud of myself, and I hope you are proud of me too. I will always love you, come rain or shine."
As my patronus hops away, my revelry is broken by Harry's orders being shouted across those gathered to fight for the same future.
"Alright, the twenty are going to gather in the first classroom. Everyone else, to your battle stations! The statues and armour will man the gates. Fight like it's the last night of your life, friends! Thank you for being here to defend our home."
With that, he jumps down and we all begin mounting our brooms.
"A kiss for luck, my lovely?" Draco asks playfully from the broom beside me.
I dismount to pull him to me, giving him something to remember me should I not make it out of this alive. I savour the softness always present in his lips, the firmness of his strong arms holding me close and large hands against my back. My fingers tangle themselves in their favourite feature, his featherlight white hair. I grip it by the roots a bit rougher than I should as I stay back the urge to cry. He sends a low groan into my mouth as he pulls me against him, breaking free hesitantly to take a deep inhale of my hair. We are both refreshing our happiest memories in case this is our last time seeing each other alive.
He pulls away, shakes his head in bewilderment, a goofy half-smile lifting his sculpted cheeks.
"I love you too," he says releasing my hand slowly as he drags his fingers across mine.
"No turning me into a squib tonight, darling," I tell him.
We bolt into the sky, chasing a forever that's barely over the horizon. In seconds, we arrive in the first Hogwarts classroom, circled around it with our wands pointed towards the centre. Kingsley stands directly across from me, giving me a nod before staring again at the void soon to be filled. Professor McGonagall presides beside him, her air of silent dignity doing a great deal to calm my nerves. Draco is to my left with Ron at my right. Around the circle, we have all of the strongest duellers available. Narcissa stands at the head of the room with Harry in the centre. I allow Hermione and Tonks' spirits to fill me, working through me to channel their strength.
Ron leans over to speak in a low voice -
"You ready to get some bad guys? Wonder how much those masks will sell for, yeah?"
It's a beautiful thing to see him so pleasantly positive in the thick of defending our lives. It gives me all the more courage to continue fighting.
"Wits about you, love," Draco says. I almost laugh as Ron nods along with me at his instruction.
"Please don't die," I respond to both of them, staring fervently into the circle as I cast a protego maxima around the lot of us.
Harry takes a deep breath and nods to Narcissa. A bright blue blaze incircles him in a beautifully controlled display of Fiendfyre.
"Ready?" he yells, much louder than needed in the small room.
We all shout incoherent whoops of confirmation in return, Ron the loudest of them all.
Harry tilts his chin in the air.
"Voldemort!" he cries.
xoXOXox
Snatchers apparate into our midst to fill the room to bursting before Potter has a chance to close his mouth. A myriad of petrifications and sleeping spells fall on them from the outer perimeter. As their bodies fall stiff to the ground, they vanish immediately into my mother's wards. We all seem to be assessing the same situation as we look around to ensure none of the Light forces have fallen. Not a single soldier is misplaced. I quietly thank my Fates for postponing whatever carnage they see fit to saddle me with this evening.
"Move out!" Potter shouts as he walks triumphantly through the blue flames before my mother cancels the spell.
We mount our brooms and charge in small collectives towards every opening in the castle. Luna and I are assigned a row of windows on the third floor near the Forbidden Forest where we stare blankly into the distance awaiting the inevitable. Andromeda is floating down the hall some ways as tin and stone soldiers clang and stomp in their march beneath us.
"Stay high!" McGonagall calls up to us in her thick Scottish brogue, her words echoing off the walls to reverberate to my very core.
I don't chance to look down at her as I keep my eyes focused on the line of my impending future, aiming my wand through an opening in the glass. I refuse to believe I will perish tonight. My mother had too much influence on the tactical strategy to waste life needlessly.
I detect a movement in the tree cover. It writhes and slithers through the canopy, too strong to be wind. I hold fast my spell until I can see the intruders. No use announcing our position while the enemy lies in hiding. It's now I see them: A conglomerate of gigantic spiders - no, not spiders, wizard-eating acromantulas - making their way to the castle.
I fire killing spells at them as they begin filing towards us. I can feel Luna's ire from my stance, but she said nothing about the imprisonment of creatures. I won't take the chance of her life or mine being ended in such a demeaning manner as they charge in our direction.
We cast down a vast array of them in mere minutes, their fur-covered black and brown bodies falling to create a boundary at the forest's edge. Some of them vanish on impact, and I know Luna has sent them to the wards. I hope against logic they will be able to be subdued, or else that they will devour the deplorables inside the containment charms without hope of escape. My one consoling thought is that fire consumes all beings but dragons, therefore if they move within the imploding wards, they will be incinerated along with the rest.
After moments that last forever and no time at all, the acromantulas cease their advance. The forest is quiet long enough for me to catch my breath for a moment. I look to Luna, who seems nonplussed as ever as if this was routine extermination of a household pest. I can't see Andromeda's face, but she sits calmly atop her broom. If I'm not mistaken, I saw green lights flashing from her direction as well.
I look back out the window to a primally disturbing sight. The treetops are quaking with a much stronger presence than the overgrown spiders. My hand grows stiff around my wand as the canopy is disturbed by, if I'm not mistaken, light brown hair.
"Retreat!" I shout through a sonorous.
Good sense dictates there is a time to fight, and a time to realize we are outmanned and run for our lives. Luna and Andromeda listen, fleeing back into the air behind us as the giant clears the treeline.
Fuck.
The three of us dart upwards towards the high ceiling as the monster smashes it's gargantuan fist into the wall causing rubble to rain down burying the marching statues and suits of armour beneath us. As soon as the destruction comes it retreats, the monster seeming to be taken around the knees by some unknown force. It falls upon its back, crushing a clustered mass of trees in its wake. I look closer to see the game-keeper - the same one who almost killed me with the hippogriff a lifetime ago - punch the giant in the face then send some form of stinging hex at his eyes. I make a mental note to send him a basket of fruits as soon as the war ends.
From below and behind us, the grating sound of stone hitting stone assaults my ears. I cast a Muffliato over those in the proximity to quell the disabling noise. We stare out the area where a wall once stood, waiting in distressing silence as the trees remain unmoving.
"Let's fly lower," Andromeda calls through a sonorous.
Luna and I follow her lead as she dips hastily on her broom. I cast a disillusionment over the three of us as we anxiously glance over our shoulders through the gaping absence of the castle wall. It seems to grow diminutive the farther we drop, placing us in perspective. The enormity of Hogwarts has never resonated with me so much as it has in the moment I am defending it with my minuscule life.
As we grow closer to the ground level, the carnage is painted in stark relief. The wall we heard crumble only moments ago is resting in fragments on the floor, the first-story ceiling cleared away to display the wreckage in its entirety. A wail of mourning fills the air with the trappings of regret and finality - dying dreams of a future that will never come to pass. The first of the Light has fallen.
As we fly lower, a shock of ginger hair presents itself garishly beneath the mounds of grey rubble, another occurrence of copper and white bobbing in utter anguish above it.
"No! Weasel!" I foolishly shout audibly, rapidly descending to inspect the destruction.
'No, no… Not him. Anyone but him…' my mind begs as I near the devastation.
I get in range to view the crushed face. I can't make out the features of the corpse, but the body is too slender to be my Weasel. It is, however, one of his relatives judging from the multiple gingers attempting to pull another frantic, living wizard from his brethren.
"He's gone, Perce," I hear a familiar voice intone.
A wave of relief hits me at the same time as grief. His emptiness ravages me as if it were my brother who lay dying.
I vanish the body to the Room of Hidden Things, trusting against my better judgement the loitering DA members will treat it with the respect it deserves. I land my broom, cancelling my disillusionment to take the Weasel into my arms for merely a second. He returns my embrace, the tears that won't come standing still in his blue eyes and catching in his throat.
"He's among the stars," I placate, hoping he'll find solace in my lies as I once did.
He lands a single pat on my back, nodding into my shoulder in affirmation.
"I don't believe in stars, mate. But thanks all the same," he chokes into my robes.
"Who was it?" I ask as I plan the swift demise of the cretin who caused this pain upon one of the few people I still call a friend.
He shakes his head.
"I didn't see 'em, mate," he says with the deepest air of regret I've ever witnessed. I pull back to look in his eyes.
"Well, we'll have to slay them all to be sure," I tell him, clapping him on the shoulder with a nod.
As he smiles a wicked grin I know beyond a shadow of a doubt my words were exactly what he needed to hear.
My Fates must have determined I've been awarded more than my share of cordialities today. A vile, schadenfreude laugh echoes from my back spinning me immediately to face my assailant.
"Ha, ha… Ahh, young Malfoy," the beast drawls languidly. "That means the beautiful Lovegood isn't far behind then, eh?"
It's the same deplorable recruit I found to be dangerous in the infirmary so many moons ago. The one who burned his duelling partner into the afterlife. His smile isn't bloody this time but brilliant white, gleaming with the souls of unnumbered murdered innocents.
"I can't wait to fuck her senseless before I slit her throat," he croaks, gleaming his amber eyes into mine.
I don't have time to feel the burst of outrage fully as I throw up a shielding charm before the slicing hex hits me. My shield withstands the crucio and entrail expulsion curse before he goes for the kill. He wants me to suffer in my demise and I'm determined not to give him the slightest amount of sadistic joy. I shoot back an avada against Luna's wishes in the split second he retreats a step, only for him to dodge it effortlessly.
"Aw, prissy Baby Malfoy doesn't want to get his hands dirty with the fun curses!" he says through the most gut-roiling mockery of a smile. "I wish you had presented more of a challenge." he taunts and tisks as he raises his wand.
In the same moment, he falls lifeless to the ground beneath Luna's spell. I look to her in the utmost adoration as she gazes at me with the nonchalant dreaminess she is known for.
"He really is terrible, isn't he?" she asks. "Or wasn't he, I should correct."
"I love you," I mouth to her. She blows me a kiss before flying headlong towards the main conflict.
xoXOXox
Harry stands in the centre of the action, firing petrifying spells and sleeping hexes at the Death Eaters with lightning speed. It's a serendipitous occasion that You-Know-Who wants to kill him personally, as none of the fighters are willing to risk firing lethal hexes at him. Draco and I get as close to him as possible, flanking him on the left and right as we beat back the oncoming danger.
Andromeda holds our shielding spell from a disillusionment high behind us. She's in a terribly vulnerable position being outside of her protego with no direct protection in front of her. We cut down several of the boldest Death Eaters, but the remaining fighters prove to be a terrible challenge. The large man with all of the tattoos who guarded me in the dungeons is in the front, throwing vile curses that break through our shields on multiple occasions. I tackle one of the Hogsmeade villagers as a crackling purple light flies towards us, certain whatever broken bones he sustained from the impact are less dangerous than the spell we dodged. I stand to my feet, petrifying two Death Eaters before getting hit with a hex meant for Harry.
I'm knocked back hard into the unforgiving stone ground. Luckily, I land on my back, tucking my head in to prevent the worst of the damage. Draco recklessly runs towards me as I stumble to my feet.
"Turn around, kitten!" I yell as a red hex races his direction.
He listens, shielding himself barely in time to avoid whatever destruction was awaiting him.
The dull ache of injured blood vessels thrums beneath the adrenaline. I cast a healing charm over myself as he lifts me into his arms to throw me over his shoulder, running at full-speed away from the battle. He sets me down behind a large stone pillar, gingerly patting all over my body for evidence of injury.
"I'm fine," I assure him "Just got knocked back for a second."
A blur of brown fuzziness blasts by us, the wind catching in my hair as we both look up.
"Come on, kitten. They need us," I tell him, taking a stolen second to kiss the back of his hand.
We sprint back to the battlefield, stopping in our tracks as we see who has arrived.
xoXOXox
"What in the gods-damned bloody…" I pant out, attempting in futility to catch my breath.
"Shut it, Granger," she demands. "I'm here to fight."
"Are you as deranged as your paramour, witch?" I shout even as I cast two avadas towards the imbeciles assaulting us.
She looks me in the eyes, piercing me with the sharpness of her multitude of pains.
"Tonks is dead," she states stoically. "I couldn't stay there. What use is having a child if they are born into a world like this?"
I let the grief seep into me slowly. My cousin is dead, ostensibly not from spell damage but a completely preventable circumstance. A tide of longing washes through me. Though I barely knew her, the loss of what could have been floods my soul with remorse. Did the baby survive? Was Dory able to hold the child before she passed from this world? Did she know what a perilous circumstance she birthed the new life into?
These dull musings are why Hermione is my protector, my salvation: because she thinks of life's implications before the rest of us dare to notice them. She sees fifty steps ahead in a game we are meant to be destroyed by. If she falls tonight, her premonitions fall along with her. Our hopes will be entombed in a monument cast by her fool-hardy valour.
"Go home, Hermione," I demand fruitlessly, "Hide well. I'll ensure you can run far from this place when the destruction is complete."
"Fuck off, Granger," she insults me through tight lips. "Gryffindors don't run."
Although I'm not looking at her, I can tell she is arching an eyebrow in reminiscence of my godfather by the tone of her dismissal. Where the hell is he? I haven't seen him within the resistance or the assailants since we have been fighting.
Dolohov fires a curse at her as I cast a protego in her direction. This proves to be an error in self-preservation as I'm hit with a slicing hex to the abdomen. It hurts like fire as all of my inner liquids mingle where they don't belong. It's the sting of dark liquor and lonely nights. Luckily, I have survived far worse. Luna aides me with a stitching charm to quell the leaking substances as I continue to fight.
The sounds of falling bodies and wounded flesh come to a halt to be replaced by a mind-altering hiss. The Dark Lord's voice permeates the remnants of my soul through a broadcasting charm.
"Give me Harry Potter…"
"COME AND TAKE HIM YOU COWARDLY BASTARD!" the Weasel roars into the void.
The echoes of his war cry ricochet off every surface of the castle, vibrating to my very core. It's almost as if I can hear the blood pulsing in his bulging veins, feel the heat of his face and arms as they boil with the flames of virtue and vengeance.
Now the true war commences.
xoXOXox
Ginny and I fight the tattooed man together, her overpowering him with strong hexes while I attempt to petrify him. He's too fast to be so large, too swift for someone with so many muscles. Andromeda's shields burst and crackle in several instances where she is running out of magical strength. We won't last much longer in this stance.
I move close to Ginny, firing from different angles as she casts back-to-back blasting charms which only seems to anger the man.
"On my count, we go straight up," I tell her, disillusioning and accioing our brooms in one move.
She nods once while still staring concentratedly at her opponent. I levitate the broom between her feet.
"3… 2… 1…"
"Up!" we both chant at the same time dashing straight towards the ceiling.
A curse flies clear into the far wall that was behind us, melting the stained glass window for the entire structure to begin coming unglued. Everyone down there will be crushed beneath the avalanche of debris if we don't act now.
I swing around to grab Mrs Tonks by the arm, tossing her onto the back of my broom as we face the destruction head-on.
"Please tell me you know the countercurse!" I yell over the wind whipping through our hair.
It appears she does. She begins throwing spells at the melting glass and crumbling wall, causing the mayhem to stall in its tracks as if time has frozen its demise for eternity. I stare in awe at the accomplishment, unable to comprehend that the wreckage could be undone so simply.
"Thank you," I shout.
I feel a weight lifted off of my broom. No, not lifted, falling. I immediately turn my broom downwards as Mrs Tonks pummels towards the ground.
"No, no, nonononono!" I murmur incoherently.
I reach her before she smashes into the ground, but I'm not strong enough to pull her unconscious body back to me. My arm muscles burn as my sweating hand grips with all of its strength against her frail wrist. In a desperate attempt to save her, I lay flat against the broom to cast a somnium and petrificus on her, hoping to all that is good someone will recognize her and pull her from the wards before this ends.
I descend carefully, noticing Hermione by her fluffy curls. She's holding up the shielding charm from ground level now, only protecting those in the immediate proximity. I suppose the spell would be more concentrated that way, but it leaves us at a sore disadvantage. I fly up to take Andromeda's former location in preparation to shield them all. I'm vaguely wondering where Ginny made off to when I hear a terrible hiss echo from every stone wall.
"Give me Harry Potter…"
The awful, rattling voice is drowned out by Ron's furious scream, one of triumph and revenge, victory at all costs. I cast my Protego around the group of fighters beneath me as the front doors smash open to reveal a crowd of black-clad assailants in silver masks marching forth. You-Know-Who has brought reinforcements.
In an instant, a wall of blue flames erupts around the perimeter of the room, a drying blast of heat rolling up to cause sweat to drip from my brows. Without chancing a look around, I know Narcissa is floating behind me and she is done with the brutally slow pace of this battle.
The beginning of the end is upon us.
xoXOXox
Hermione's shield around the four of us holds fast as darker and darker curses fly our way. We are huddled around Potter to avoid the avadas flying recklessly alongside us as our comrades in arms duck behind scattered rubble and debris. We give him scarcely enough room to swing his wand as the Dark Lord's forces close in on us.
He's saved the most elite of his regime for last, utilizing the first wave of fighters as expendables. I expected no less than this from the tyrannical maniac he is: wear down our forces to slaughter us broad-sweep. What he hadn't been counting on was facing the brilliance of Mother's Fiendfyre, and it's this that will give us the only advantage we have. If we burn, the world burns around us. There will be nothing left to salvage if we fail.
Many are singed and incinerated as they try in vain to cross the line of fire that extends to the ceiling, leaving but a few remaining to shoot hexes at us. Our shielding charms are more than proficient to handle the onslaught. Time is our only remaining enemy.
One black-clad leg arrogantly places itself into the flames with more dignity than it deserves. The thud of a dragonhide boot echoes resoundingly across the scarred floor over the roar of unfettered finality. I rush toward the only figure I know could penetrate my Mother's protection by virtue of his blood. Hermione attempts to stay me, though I resist. Potter, of all vermin, casts a protego to carry me through.
The lightest polished platinum blows silently over his shoulders in the hot rushing wind. He leisurely slips his mask into the pocket of his robes as if he owns time immemorial.
"How dare you," he begins in a low-drawling scold before so much as looking up. "impersonate my son!" he shouts in visceral outrage, launching an Avada at my chest. I slam myself against the ground, ducking and rolling before his quick wand can slay me.
"Expelliarmus!" I hear called from far behind me, sending the dragon and elm flying into the eternal flames.
"Ha!" Father sneers, producing an identical wand from nowhere. "You consider me unprepared, you snivelling degenerate? How comically ill-advised for you to underestimate me so. Nothing, least of all primary school charmwork, will separate me from your final wails!"
He sends a foul bleeding curse at me, one that will dry me from the inside if it connects. It nearly shatters Potter's shield as I cast my own protego. I've never been proficient in a duel against my father. Then again, I've never had so much to fight for.
"Father!" I shout from beyond the charm "I am not an imposter! I'm your son!"
"Lies!" he bellows, wielding the Dark Sword with practised ease as my protego collapses around me. Luckily, Luna and Potter's shields don't surrender. "My son would never dare to sully himself with such deplorable excuses for wizards as these!"
I hear a single set of footsteps pounding a punishing pace on the stone floor behind me. If only I can pander to my father's incredulity a moment longer.
"I'm Draco Lucius Malfoy! Son of Narcissa Black Malfoy! Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House!"
"Silence!" he roars, snarling as he stalks closer. I cast a new protection charm around Potter's.
My words flow like the most tumultuous river, rushing forth rapidly to carry my voice on their backs.
"Father, I can get you out of here safely. I can take the mark off of you as I've removed it from myself." I display my forearm with my wand high overhead. "You can run far and hide well Father." I parrot his words he has beaten into me since I was a child, making a point to hold his stare when his eyes return to bore into my face. He seems to recognize his lecture, his face turning to stone as his Occlumency shields cloud his eyes in apathy.
"You disgust me," he growls "I've given you more than a rotting, spoiled failure such as yourself could ever deserve! Yet you reward me with betrayal?"
He laughs into the sky, a crackling, terrifying sound that's pierced my bones for nearly two decades. The smart of his cane to my legs bites fresh into my skin as if it were happening in this very instant.
"I reward you with your life!" I shriek as tears rain down from my eyes, "Please, Father, take my offering and run! Don't make me do this!"
He smirks like the murderer he is, carving my heart from my chest as he takes one step closer in horrid amusement.
"My son was a practised Occlumens you abominable, repugnant excuse for a wizard. He would never shed tears. You are no Malfoy, and will die screaming for disgracing my family in such a distasteful manner."
As Father raises his wand to end my life mercilessly, the pounding steps grow louder. He barely dodges the green light before it connects.
"He's MY family you pompous piece of Thestral shit!" the Weasel crassly admonishes, sending a blasting curse to knock Lucius into the flames.
He returns momentarily, firing avada after avada at us.
The Weasel runs forward as I send a myriad of petrifying and sleeping charms at my father's lithe form. He shakes them off as flawlessly as water dancing over ice. We dodge and move as Hermione and Potter charge forward, slinging an array of offensive curses towards Lucius.
"That all you got, bastard?" the Weasel growls "I guess we'll have to teach you how lions make snakes die screaming. Pluck the peacock, if you will." he mocks, gesturing in a pantomime of pureblood etiquette.
The Weasel sends a shredding curse forward as my petrificus connects, sending ribbons of the man I once loved clumping gracelessly to the ground.
He stalks towards the body as Hermione and Potter fall back to help the others. His face is still perfectly intact although his torso is no longer existent. The gaping hole between his mind and his legs is so fiercely jarring, but altogether too familiar - as if I've seen it every night of my life.
The Weasel leans down to speak to what remains of Lucius Malfoy, growling low enough to leave remnants of spittle on his cheeks.
"You've helped kill enough of my family for this lifetime, Malfoy." he intones, punctuating his statement with a stomp that crushes his perfectly aquiline nose and pristine cheekbones in one. My fear is crushed with them, all remaining fragments of dread fleeing from me in this moment. It is finished. The desecration upon the name Malfoy is no more.
xoXOXox
Credits:
"You will die screaming" was from Danaerys in Game of Thrones.
"Virtue and vengeance" was from the book "Children of Virtue and Vengeance" by Tomi Adeyemi.
"I'm going to love you like nobody's loved you, come rain or come shine." was the late great B.B. King. May he soar amongst the stars.
"Oh I assure you, I fucking dare." is a quote by Tempest E. Dashon, who also orchestrated the mode of Lucius's violent death and beta'd this chapter for me. My words would be ashes on the wind without her.
Vine