Author's note: Hello darlings, welcome to chapter 2. I listened to run boy run by woodkid while i wrote this chapter. Do enjoy!

Chapter 2. Something in the forbidden forest

May 2nd 1998

The day of the battle of Hogwarts

Narcissa began to explain to Draco everything she had witnessed prior to finding him with Hermione in the alcove. Everything she had witnessed take place in the forbidden forest earlier that day.

Draco was thankful she was tactful enough to know time and place. To keep her voice low enough that Hermione did not hear any of it.

Narcissa didn't know what to make of the experience herself. She just felt it in her gut, that whatever it was that happened was important. Draco had to be warned. The Potter boy Narcissa knew was very close to Hermione Granger, and it worried Narcissa.

Something had happened to Harry Potter in the forbidden forest, when he turned himself over to Voldemort. Something very bad. His mother's voice was remorseful. Her voice turned into a hushed whisper when she told him the way in which Harry Potter had lifted from the earth just an hour or so ago when the killing curse hit him. How his body twitched, and twisted before it fell limply down into the mud. She told Draco how she checked the boy herself.

"The boy was dead, Draco." Her voice quivered. "There was no pulse." She said imploring him to see, to believe her. And he was afraid to.

For the second time, Voldemort had used Avada Kedavra on Harry Potter. For the second time it seemed Harry Potter had once again risen from the killing curse. Seemingly unaffected. This time there hadn't even been a scar left behind, at least from the brief moment Draco had shared with Potter in the courtyard. It hadn't even been a moment, it was less than a moment. Over quicker than the blink of an eye.

Narcissa Malfoy had spent the last couple of weeks thinking her son dead or kidnapped. It felt like an entire lifetime since he had last seen his mother. He supposed it had. Alot had changed in the time he had been away from her. Draco had changed. He looked her over, assessing his mother. Her hair was thinner in places, and her face looked more severe than ever before. Gaunt. Her clothing was disheveled, and Draco suspected she was in pain both physically and mentally. He was searching her for any sign that her sanity might not be intact. Because what she told him had unnerved him immensely.

How could someone die? Then rise from the dead, after having no pulse? Then again Draco realized, Harry Potter had taken the killing curse as an infant and lived. It was probably what had happened the first time. No one knew the specifics of what the curse did to Potter as a baby, and Draco told Narcissa so.

"If anyone could escape death a second time it would be, Potter." He said unsure of who he was trying to convince. "The same thing probably happened when he was a baby. His pulse stopped and restarted... magic. It was just the magic. It killed him, but he came back, both times."

"That sounds plausible enough. But i checked him a second time. Right before we came out of the forest with Voldemort, as the giant was carrying him. For at least half an hour he had no pulse, no breath in his lungs." She rested a delicate hand up to her mouth, like she could hide it from the horror of her own words.

It was disgusting and unnatural. It defied everything Draco had ever been taught. Even with magic, to think that a body could be deprived of oxygen and without pumping blood for that amount of time it seemed impossible.

His mother, he decided, was entirely sane on all accounts. He believed her account. Harry Potter had died. He remained dead until somewhere between when Narcissa checked him the second time, and when he jumped out of Hagrid's arms in the courtyard.

But there was a wriggling sensation at the back of his mind. In all the time he had spent working with the trio, these last few weeks, there was something he wasn't understanding. Something he was failing to see.

Hermione had told him all about the horcruxes, how many there were, and how to kill them. She told him they were pieces of Voldemort's soul. That's what made them so important, and what made it their top priority to destroy them.

Something that was trying to connect in his head. Some invisible puzzle piece that he was failing to grasp, danced around him.

The forbidden forest. Potter. Horcruxes. What was he not seeing? If he was half as clever as Hermione, he could ask her. She could probably figure out what was going on.

"Give me just a moment. I need to think." Draco told his mother.

Narcissa went back to playing lookout, and every so often swiveled back around to check on Hermione who was all but comatose by that point.

Draco then pushed everything happening around him far from his mind and he thought only about how the day had first started at Hogwarts. He wanted to retrace his steps mentally.

When they made it to Hogwart's that morning the four of them knew it could be their final stand. They knew all of them might not live to see another day. Their plan was flimsy, and haphazardly hatched while on the back of a stolen dragon.

The threat of imminent death had made Draco very glad of the night before he had spent prior with Hermione. If they were going to die at Hogwart's, at least he could die happily knowing that for a few hours he had Hermione Granger. Had her in all the ways he had ever fantasized he might, all the ways that probably had his ancestors rolling over in their tombs.

Things had gone fairly smoothly during their initial return to Hogwarts. Harry had chased Snape out of the castle, the carrows were incapacitated and it seemed for a moment they were winning.

Then before they knew it the death eaters began to penetrate the castle. Snape was killed. Crabbe was dead, burned alive in the room of requirement. The only good thing about the fire destroying the room, had been that the diadem of Ravenclaw had burnt up with it.

By some kind of miracle the four of them had managed to stick together throughout the battle. Dueling back to back. Holding their own against fully grown wizards. Trying to work in pairs when they could. Covering each other, protecting each other with everything they had.

Draco had been their wild card. The death eaters all recognized the heir to the Malfoy family. They didn't attack him, they didn't think he was a threat. They were wrong, and they used that to their advantage. Draco lured them in, and the others stunned them. Their hope was coming back, they thought they were making a difference.

Then came the ceasefire, and all hope was dashed again. Potter confessed his theory of being a 7th and final horcrux. Hermione had obviously suspected as much. She offered to go with him, even knowing Draco would sooner die than allow that. Potter hadn't even entertained the offer, and Draco was glad he intended to be a true friend to his very end.

Draco tried desperately to look anywhere else as the trio of them said their final goodbyes. Hugging each other with tears flowing freely. It made Draco's chest hurt.

After everything, all the special treatment Dumbledore had given to Potter, he had set him up to die. Raising him for slaughter, to ensure Voldemort's downfall.

Dumbledore had been every bit the horrid headmaster Draco's father had been alleging for years. Only a monster would sacrifice a 17 year old boy, so coldly. How was Dumbledore any better than Voldemort?

The only reason any of them had let Potter leave the castle to face the darkest wizard of their time was because they believed Harry had to die. They were under the assumption Harry had to be killed for Voldemort to die.

When Harry Potter left the castle, he left his best friends in his wake knowing there was nothing they could do to save him.

According to Narcissa, when Potter traveled to the forbidden forest he spent a good amount of that time dead. No pulse. No breathing.

Draco, Ron, and Hermione were forced to watch as Voldemort brought back his victory party. His army of death eater's were elated and the body of Harry Potter was displayed as a trophy in Hagrid's arms.

Draco felt a pit forming in the bottom of his stomach, as Hagrid bawled like a baby. Guilt, sadness, anger, he felt to much all at once. Potter was supposed to be the boy who lived, dammit. Certainly Draco had never gotten on well with Potter, but he had never wished him dead. Not once.

Ginny Weasley had screamed, when she saw his body. Potter hadn't wanted to say goodbye to her, he hadn't thought he could make himself leave if he saw her again. He had asked Ron to give her a final message, Draco hadn't wanted to hear it, but he had.

"Don't miss me, Gin. Live for me." Those were the words Harry Potter chose to impart on the love of his life. Draco felt they were proper. Perfect. Potter was wise not to tell her he loved her. It would have been harder for her to move on if he had said that.

Poor Ginny Weasley.

It seemed to them all that Voldemort had won. All hope was lost.

Draco recalled smiling when Neville Longbottom cut the head off the snake.

As quickly as they lost hope it had come crashing back. When Harry Potter flung himself out of Hagrid's arms, the fight was reignited. Their cause could be saved. Draco had thrown Potter his wand, without a second thought. Ron was lost to him in the shuffle, he had charged forward into the battle, his red hair grew further and further away.

Had the horcrux inside of him been killed? Or had it to deflected the killing curse and come back like Potter? Would it still need to be killed after this?

The trajectory of the battle changed drastically when Potter sprung back to life. Death eaters departed in droves. They had lost faith in their master. Because for the second time he had failed to murder Harry Potter. Not all of them left though, the death eaters that remained meant to fight even if it meant to the death. The ones remaining were Voldemort's most trusted follower's.

Pushing through the panicked crowd of people Draco dragged Hermione away, because he knew whatever happened here needed to happen without her seeing it. The duel of the century would have it's winner, he hoped it would be her friend.

Then his mother had found them. Told Draco everything she knew. Draco had come full circle on the events that he had lived through that day.

After mulling all of it over Draco had an inkling of what it all meant, but he hoped he was wrong. He had to be wrong. But it changed his mind. Draco was no longer willing to wait around for the duel to commence. They were leaving as soon as possible. Hermione would be stunned if need be.

There were footsteps close by, and Draco was pulled out of his thoughts.

"Mother, i'm going to find father. Stay with Hermione? Please. As soon as we make it back, we are all getting the hell out of here. Together." He hoped he could trust her with this.

Her lips were in a tight line. "Yes." She tried to offer him the wand but he shook his head. She needed it more.

"I said i'd stay with you, and now you're leaving." Hermione looked up at him through tears, and snot. "Why do you get to save the people you love?"

"The people i love are easier to save." Hermione cringed and he felt sorry that he was such as ass.

"I'll be back. I'll be back for both of you." Even Draco didn't believe his own words, he began to turn away from the 2 women he loved above all else in the world, and he ran.

He ran for his live, and for theirs.

Draco darted from out of the alcove at a punishing pace. Immediately bobbing and weaving, narrowly avoiding misdirected spells as he went. Jets of green, blue, red, and yellow light were whizzing in all different directions.

The castle he had known as a boy was gone. Destroyed. Broken. The path before him was uneveen and jagged. Boulders, and rocks littered the ground. Blood was pumping and gushing in his ears. His heart was racing, and he felt sweat already gathering at his brow.

He heard different versions of, "you don't have to do this." and "please don't do this." All around him. It made him run faster. Most people he passed paid him no mind, they were already in the midst of their own duels. Spells in the air rippled around him as he pushed forward.

Draco winced when his dark mark began to burn, or maybe it already was and he had blocked it out with everything else going on. He didn't know which was worse the burn in his legs or in his arm.

Draco had almost made it the entrance of the school when he saw Fenrir Greyback. He had a girl in his hands. Lavender Brown's eyes were pointed up at the sky without seeing. She was dead.

"Avada Kedavra!" Then so was Greyback. A man with ginger hair had fired the curse. An older Weasley brother. Bill or Charlie most likely.

Draco forced himself to focus only on what was ahead of him, he had to run, fast, faster or he was dead.

His feet slapped the concrete. With shaky legs pumping and chest heaving, he braced to jump over a fallen column. Just as he had arched over the top of it, the earth tilted suddenly, and against his will. His foot had caught something midair and he came crashing down hard onto his shoulder, scraping his face raw on the pathway.

Everything hurt. A drop of blood ran down his chin, and painted the ground crimson in front of him. He put a hand up to his face, and wiped away bits of broken rocks, and dirt. His hand was bloody, he struggled trying to sit up. His shoulder had to be out of socket, because he couldn't move it, and when he tried to he thought he might pass out.

When Draco thought to himself, how could things get any worse, he hadn't meant it as a challenge to the universe. The universe had accepted it all the same. His aunt Bellatrix was standing just a short distance away. His foot hadn't caught on anything he realized. Bellatrix had tripped him.

Her eyes were somehow more crazed than usual. Adrenaline dumped into his blood stream as the terror began to set in, and he feared he was going into shock. He shoved himself to a sitting position. He slid himself backward on one arm until he was against the column and could go no further.

The sound of her high heeled boots clacking on the stone ground was malevolent. With each step she took another pang of dread hit Draco. He knew he must of looked pathetic to her. His clothes had been borrowed from Ron, and had been through at least 2 of his older brothers before he ever got them. They were crumpled, and wrinkled. Blood was cascading down Draco's face right onto the Gryffindor tshirts front. Head wounds always seemed to bleed profusely, this one was no exception. His jeans were covered in dirt, and grime. One arm hung uselessly at his side. When he had face planted, one of the sneakers he'd been wearing had come off from his foot entirely. He stared at his legs laid out in front of him, like they had betrayed him. He had come all this way just to die because he had been to damn slow. Pathetic.

Bellatrix was a predator of the worst kind Draco always knew that about his aunt, and here she was coming to collect her prey. Her lips turned up triumphantly, this was a victory for her. Pruning off a part of the black family tapestry she no longer found useful, she was practically salivating. Like some great beast, she'd have in pieces in less than a minute. At least it would be quick Draco rationalized.

"What's the hurry, nephew?" Bellatrix asked with a little giggle at the end. That was how he knew she hadn't actually wanted a response from him. She liked to play with her food. "You look awfully busy. You wouldn't be looking for someone, would you?"

Draco didn't let his face move, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of being right.

"Who might you be looking for then, you little traitor." Draco didn't care that she knew he had defected, hell he was even proud of it. If he could have found his voice he would have told her so. She was standing right in front of him. Talking much more to herself than him. "Mummy's been looking for you, you know little Draco. What a shame she'll never find you."

Bellatrix had crouched down over his leg until her face was in front of his. Her breathe was sickly sweet. Her wand tipped his face upwards. She wanted him to look at her. He tried to be brave, he tried to force himself not to react and to just breathe, but he was scared. He was probably more afraid of Bellatrix than he ever had been Voldemort. He was able to keep proper control over his emotions until Bellatrix dealt him a gut wrenching declaration.

"I know." She grinned at him like he was her favorite person in the world. "It's your little mudblood. That's who your looking for. Don't worry, i'll find her after i'm through with you."

Draco paled. No anything but that, please.

Then Bellatrix brought her foot upwards and then violently downward in one quick motion, shoving the tip of her high heel into his thigh until there was blood. Like the snap of a rubber band it sliced through skin, and muscle making a wet sound. The tug of muscle splitting apart, caused him to jettison forward to get to his leg.

"Aghhh!" Draco choked entirely out of his own control.

Bellatrix had gripped him by his bloody shirt front pushing him back, while Draco struggled to contain the howls of agony that were threatening to escape him.

Bellatrix dug her heel in further and there was a piercing wild scream like an animal, that Draco realized had been his. She was pinning him in place. One foot digging into his thigh, and a hand on his wet shirt.

"You think you can betray our family? The noble house of black! Me?!" She shook him hard, slapped his face and his head cracked against something hard. Warm wetness began to flow down his hair making his stomach twist. He could smell the metallic tang of it as it seeped down his back. The back of his head had split open. Blood was blooming like crimson petals all around him. On his face. Down his jeans. It began pooling rapidly around his back and out towards his legs. Bellatrix's wand hand reared back arcing skillfully, and Draco knew what it would be. It would be the killing curse.

Draco struggled to keep concious. He thought Bellatrix was screaming at him but she sounded far away. He felt sleepy.

The pain began to ebb away, and his resolve to stay conscious with it. The throbbing, the aching spots all over his body were numb. Blood loss, he figured. He was glad the pain had stopped. A fog of darkness hovered around him threatening to take him under entirely, he pushed it back. Then he became very afraid the pain might come back, and so he stopped fighting it. The fog began to eat away at everything he was, picking away at each of his senses until they were all gone. He could smell nothing, he couldn't feel his body, there was no taste on his tongue, there was nothing to see but darkness, and everything around him had gone very quiet. Dying it turned out felt alot like falling asleep.

He would die here and, he didn't mind dying at Hogwarts. Hogwarts had made up a good portion of his life after all. Draco couldn't imagine a better ending to a life that had been torn in every possible direction. To evil, to good. Somewhere morally grey between. No matter what side he seemed to take, it always brought him here. To Hogwarts. His home.

Then a blast of bright light. Images swam across his vision. They were blurry and out of focus. Flashes of black and white. A girl with a book smiling kindly with her hand held over her abdomen, a woman in silk with pursed lips looking on disapprovingly yet also lovingly at the girl. Then 2 boys stood arm in arm, one with untidy hair the other in a sweater with his first initial "R" knit into it and they both held broomsticks challenging Draco to a game. What could have been, Draco thought. The faces bloomed and washed together over him, reminding him of sprinkling petals into a cauldron. One by one the faces disintegrated. Gone. Fading away into the darkness, begging him to join them there.

End of chapter