Better be Slytherin
LVI
A Bad Dream

Rich sunlight shone in through the windows past the curtains and heated the room up to such an extent that it woke Draco up, which meant apparently, after all, he had been able to fall asleep in the early hours of the morning. In his drowsy confusion he rolled over in bed, half expecting to be in his dormitory at Hogwarts, and saw Pansy lying next to him and the 'Tojours Pur' banner over them, and instantly it hit him where he was and everything that had happened. With a jolt of anxiety he remembered that Crabbe had burned alive.

"What time is it?" he said confusedly, rubbing his eyes. "Why is it so bloody hot?"

"It's mid-day. You've been sleeping all day and the sun's been out."

She was looking at him with apprehension, as if not sure how to handle him.

He cleared his throat and turned away. Instantly in the daylight, he was ashamed of his outbreak last night. He avoided looking at her.

He braced himself by inhaling deeply, and then proceeded to get out of bed to get dressed.


Pansy enjoyed a long shower and a change into a nice set of new smaragdine robes, after all she'd been wearing her old pink dressing gown for what felt like ages. How strange it was when she thought back of how much had happened these last few days. From aggravating Amycus Carrow in class to all the Slytherins being in uproar, to the battle, and now a whole new world. After her usual routine of beauty spells she descended the magnificent staircase and followed the sound of low voices to the dining room.

The walls were lined with portraits of old Malfoys, and there was a long oblong table. Narcissa was sitting at one end of it, being served tea by the House-Elf from an ancient silver pot, and Lucius and Draco hadn't touched their breakfast but were both hidden behind large copies of the Daily Prophet.

In huge writing, the headlines almost screamed at her.

YOU-KNOW-WHO DEFEATED

Boy Who Lived becomes Man who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named

Then they changed and instead displayed two other headlines.

HARRY POTTER'S TRIUMPH – SEE PAGE 2

St Mungo's overflowing

Aurors rounding up dark wizard supporters

Harry Potter's face stared back at her from the cover. It felt shockingly real seeing it in writing. So it had all happened, then.

"Good morning," she said politely as the House-Elf hurried over to pull out her heavy, ornate chair. Lucius merely nodded at her from behind his paper.

"Good morning, darling," said Narcissa in her usual chilly tone and she put down her cup of tea. "Binky, serve Miss Parkinson some of the eggs Benedict."

Draco put his newspaper down, to be polite, Pansy was sure.

"Don't worry, dear, Mr and Mrs Parkinson will be joining us shortly," said Narcissa, explaining their absence. "Your mother is carefully selecting what to wear today."

She said it courteously, but Pansy could've sworn Narcissa's eyes had just slightly rolled.

"It's going to be a long day," said Draco. "We need to go back to Hogwarts and help with the rebuilding."

Pansy pursed her lips. Surely they didn't need to? Nobody had said they needed to; it wasn't as if it was illegal not to go back and help. Now that it was over, Pansy could certainly think of better ways to spend her day.

Nonetheless, after breakfast, they returned to school by Floo Powder. Instantly they were met by the mass of people who had returned just like them.

It seemed the whole Ministry of Magic was there, along with several reporters, and of course all the teachers, students, parents, and other volunteers. Even House-Elves and Ghosts and the odd Centaur. Pansy held back the urge to roll her eyes but let out a small groan. Surely they weren't needed?

She could see a group of teachers including the Arithmancy teacher Professor Demetrius and their Head of House Professor Slughorn using the force of their combined wands to repair the massive staircase. McGonagall was holding a long parchment that flowed almost all the way down to the floor, which seemed to entail a list of chores, as she was constantly ticking things off with a flick off her wand. Filch was sweeping dust off the floors. Pansy wrinkled her nose.

She had no idea how she could be of any assistance (not that she wanted to be) because she was exceptionally untalented in manual labour.

Across the crowded hall, she suddenly saw a blonde mousy-faced figure hurrying towards her, exclaiming, "Pansy!"

With a sigh of relief, she embraced her best friend Daphne Greengrass, who was quickly followed by her younger sister, Astoria. "I didn't think you'd come! My whole family's here," she said and motioned towards her parents, who looked slightly uncomfortable, a while off.

"I didn't want to," she admitted in a whisper, rolling her eyes, "but Draco's the boss..."

Daphne giggled, and both she and Astoria air-kissed Draco's cheeks and awkwardly curtsied in front of Mr and Mrs Malfoy. Just as Mr and Mrs Parkinson came out of the Floo and Pansy saw her mother disdainfully wave dust off her robes, she pulled the sisters to the side to complain more about having to be there.

"Draco's father thinks it best for us all to show support, now that the Dark Lord is gone," she explained. "We don't know what's going to happen to either of them. Draco and Mr Malfoy, I mean."

Daphne looked worried. "Do you think they'll go to Azkaban?"

This positively alarmed Astoria, as if she'd never heard of the place before.

"As I said, we're not sure," said Pansy heavily. "Mr Malfoy has been talking to the Aurors. And I expect the fact that he's not been apprehended yet is a good sign? But then again, they might be building a case..."

"And it has only been a day," said Daphne wisely. "I wouldn't bank on anything just yet. Anyway, are you in trouble for what you said about Potter, or what?"

Pansy glanced around; she hated to be reminded of that fact. "I don't know. But I don't think so. Draco's been telling me I didn't technically do anything wrong. Well, I didn't do anything illegal, anyway. And..." she paused, for a second unsure whether to divulge this information or not, ultimately deciding to. "I apologised to Potter."

"What?" gasped the Greengrass sisters in unison, stopping to stare at her positively alarmed.

"Well," she said with a slight roll of the eyes and a half shrug, "I need to think of my image. It's all I've got to lean on right now. Besides, Draco sort of did it too."

"Malfoy?! Apologise?!"

"Well, no, but they're on good terms. Well, neutral terms at least."

"I suppose, now that he really is gone..." said Daphne, but they were interrupted by an echoing announcement.

"Attention! Please proceed to the Great Hall!"

Pansy and Daphne shared a sceptical look. There was a lot of scuffling and worried mumbling as everyone made their way through the double doors. It was so crowded they ended up having to stand at the far back, and Pansy couldn't see her parents or Draco anywhere. On her tiptoes, she could see that Ministry representatives and executives were all there, as well as the Order of the Phoenix (whatever was left of it), and Potter, Weasley and Granger were all sitting by the teacher's table. All eyes were directed at the front.

"We're gathered to explain today's plan of approach. Furthermore, Mr Harry Potter will hold a short press conference to explain the most crucial details of his victory. We must also discuss what to do about Riddle's body."

Professor McGonagall addressed the whole Hall, but her eyes were focused on the front where the teachers, Ministry employed and Order of the Phoenix were. People like herself, Pansy reckoned, where just nobodies.

Daphne's faced screwed up in disgust, "I didn't even think of that," she whispered to Pansy. Pansy felt her disgust equally. To think the Dark Lord's dead body was lying somewhere decaying was more than she could stomach. She wondered where he was now, and where all those other bodies were. With a jolt through her stomach she wondered where Colin Creevey's body lay now. She still hadn't told anyonre that Creevey had saved her life.

Professor McGonagall went on talking but Pansy's mind was elsewhere and she found it difficult to focus.

Mrs Parkinson, dressed immaculately in blood-red robes and a large hat came jostling through the crowd, her husband at her heels, searching for their daughter. Pansy raised her eyebrows. Her mother raised her arms when she saw her.

"Mother," she said apprehensively.

"Don't run off like that, young lady," said her mother sternly as they reached them.

"I didn't!" snapped Pansy defensively, "I was talking to my friends!"

"Oh, good morning girls," said Mrs Parkinson with a quick smile at the Greengrass sisters before she turned back to Pansy. "The Malfoys were approached by the Auror office again, but should be arriving shortly."

And indeed, soon she could she three blonde figures making their way into the Great Hall. All three looked slightly worried. It unsettled her.

"Everything ok?" she asked Draco in a would-be casual voice when they approached and he took his place next to her. He didn't meet her eyes when he replied.

"Yes."

"First of all," said Professor McGonagall. "I've been appointed temporary Headmistress, and as long as nobody objects this, I shall take on the responsibilities for now. It is then my duty to decide what shall be done today, and I suggest we focus on the Great Hall and Entrance Hall today, and to move on to the upstairs corridors in a few days, as that's where most damage has been done."

Daphne sent Pansy a look of boredom to which Pansy smirked slightly.

"As I said yesterday, parents and students are welcome but not required to stay and help for as long as they wish. Dinner will be served for all this evening and the dormitories, common rooms and undamaged classrooms are open as accommodation."

She cleared her throat but didn't waver where she stood tall at the front of the Hall. "We need help identifying some of the fallen. Anyone who knows or thinks they might have lost a loved one would be implored to come to the front after the press conference."

Pansy glanced at Draco. She doubted his aunt was a 'loved one', but still she knew Mrs Malfoy would have to identify her sister's dead body.

"There is one more issue we need resolving," said Professor McGonagall. "The issue of Voldemort's body."

There was an uncomfortable murmuring around the room.

"Burn it!" someone yelled ferociously.

"Why don't you just bury it?" another asked. Professor McGonagall glanced at Potter, but it was temporary Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt who answered in his deep soothing voice.

"We don't want to create a potential place of worship for Death Eaters."

Everyone looked slightly awkward at this.

"Couldn't you, err, transfigure it somehow?"

The debate went on and on until they finally settled on the body being taken to the Ministry for investigation before it would be transfigured and buried in a secret location.


The Quick Quotes Quills and normal quills buzzed around like bees at the front of the hall. There were reporters from all magazines and newspapers, large and small. They were all dying to hear the story and be the first to share it with the public. The rest of the hall – students, teachers and parents alike were also looking at Potter in silent reverence.

It was time for the press conference.

Pansy felt slightly out of place.

"Mr Potter! Tell us what you've been doing for the last year!"

"What was your relationship with Dumbledore?"

"Have you been working under Dumbledore's orders?"

Potter was seated by the centre of the table, in the headmaster's chair which McGonagall had respectfully vacated. Pansy could see him swallowing thickly and search the room with his eyes before opening his mouth to speak.

"Voldemort had created a number of dark items which bound him to life. We spent the last year searching for these items and destroying them..."

Gasps and murmuring spread at once. Potter gave them a moment to compose themselves again.

"My instructions were clear. These items needed to be destroyed if one were to defeat Voldemort. Dumbledore already managed some. He gave me the task of continuing on after his death. We finished off the rest. Once they were taken care of, nothing except his physical body bound Voldemort to life. He could then be killed."

The murmuring broke out again at once, the voices louder this time. Pansy glanced at her friends and family who all looked as confused and surprised as she felt.

"What kind of items?" someone further ahead shouted.

"That isn't important," said Potter with a glance left and right where his faithful companions sat. Both Granger and Weasley nodded slightly. Pansy wondered what secret they shared. "The important thing is that they are destroyed and so is Voldemort."

The Great Hall was packed to the rim, making it loud and hot. He waited for the murmurings to quieten down for a while.

"I also want to note," said Potter presently, "That we only broke into Gringott's to find one of these items. Not for personal gain."

Pansy didn't understand much of it but she was glad it was all over.


"Is it true you were the master of an unbeatable wand?" Daphne asked Draco in awe when they had slipped out of the Great Hall a couple hours later.

He looked startled, as if he didn't want to be reminded of the fact. "I suppose," he said sceptically. "If Potter says so. I never had it though."

The press conference went on for hours, and they weren't the only ones to not stay for the whole thing. She supposed they would all hear about it in the press anyway for days possibly weeks to come.

"Did you know the Dark Lord was immortal?" Pansy asked Draco in a whisper as she grabbed onto his arm through the crowd. He glanced around then shook his head.

"I suspected something odd, but immortal? No. But finally that explains why he was able to come back last time," said Draco, and something in his mind clicked as he pondered this. From what Potter had told them, Draco gathered the Dark Lord would not be able to come back another time. It settled his anxiety somewhat. But then, how could they be absolutely sure?

Lucius authoritative presence appeared. "Son," he said in a low voice. "It is time."

Draco looked up confused.

"Your mother must identify your aunt."

Draco glanced at his mother. Her beautiful face was pale and determined. There was no sign of a tear.

They queued up to the chamber off the hall where the bodies lay. How bizarre it was to queue up to look at dead people. The smell, the crying, the desperate pleas, it all made him nauseous. He couldn't wait to get out of there.

"Mrs Malfoy?" said professor Sprout and the three Malfoys looked up. "Come with me."

Deeper into the dark, low-ceilinged room they went, zigzagging between rows and rows of Voldemort's victims and dead Death Eaters, House-Elves and Centaurs. They all had sheets drawn up over them, but the knowledge of what was under there was enough. It was like an army of dead bodies. He caught himself breathing heavily and tried not to look sideways as he followed his mother and father further in. The rows never seemed to end. He glanced back at the door leading out to the hall, where the light was. Queasy and dizzy, instincts told him to run for the door. But loyalty told him to take a deep breath and keep walking.

His mind was strangely empty when Professor Sprout stopped by one of the stretchers. He noticed Narcissa search for Lucius' hand and grab it tightly. Professor Sprout glanced at them and Narcissa nodded. The sheet was pulled down, revealing the once beautiful face with its protruding eyes staring out into nothing and the long black hair like a veil.

Draco stared. He didn't know what he was meant to feel, but he guessed he was feeling the wrong thing. He could hear his always so collected mother draw in a sharp breath. The seconds seemed to go on for minutes. Bellatrix's eyes which he knew couldn't see anymore, seemed to stare into his. Seemed to judge him. Seemed to call him a traitor.

Then, a few sniffs. And a stiff nod from his mother.

That was that. The sheet went up again, covering up his aunt and he was glad of it.

They turned back and began walking back along the rows. Draco took a deep breath. It was nearly over.

He had nearly reached the door, the source of the light, when he did what he'd tried to force himself not to do. He looked sideways.

He felt like a wind blew through him, taking away his breath for a moment. His eyes glued to his new discovery, his heart suddenly racing, he could hear his own loud breathing but he couldn't control it.

There was a mess of greasy black hair, blood and what looked like some kind of bites. His favourite teacher, his Head of House, his mentor and his Godfather lay there stiff and yellowing like a wax doll. Snape was dead.

The world had paused.

"Father!" he exclaimed desperately, stumbling on the word and choking on his own breath.

His parents acknowledged what he was so devastated to have found, and his father merely said. "Yes... Such a pity. Let's go, Draco."


"What are we doing now?" asked Daphne, her gaze lingering on a group of Hufflepuff students sweeping dust, gravel and shattered glass into a big pile. There were still large cracks in the main staircase and broken pieces of stone everywhere.

Pansy looked around in distaste. There were people everywhere doing manual labour.

"I need to stay and help," said Draco. He was monotone and avoided eye contact. Mr and Mrs Malfoy were on the other side of the entrance hall with Pansy's parents speaking in lowered voices. "Until my father says it's enough."

"Draco," Pansy said hastily, almost interrupting him. "Can I have a word?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Naturally." The Greengrass sisters glanced at Pansy quizzingly and she said, "We'll just be a moment. You go on." And they hurried off to find their parents or their Head of House or someone to instruct them of what to do and where to begin, while Pansy grabbed Draco's arm again and led him away across the entrance hall, down the staircase and into the dungeon corridor below leading to their common room.

"What are you doing?" he asked as the voices above trailed off and they entered the cold, dark dungeon. "We're not shagging right now, it's the wrong time to—"

Pansy rolled her eyes, "I actually meant it when I said I wanted to have a word. Believe it or not, my mind is not always on 'rubbing wands'"

Draco gave a vague smirk. "What is it then?" but his smile died out when Pansy turned to him. Something in her expression told him this was no laughing matter.

She took a deep breath and then said, "When we came back from the Hog's Head... me, Tracey, Queenie and Zabini..."

"What?" he looked scared now, licking his lips and his eyes wide.

"We ran back across the grounds," she said, not meeting his eyes, but focusing her gaze on his shirt collar. She could see a stain of sweat there. "And there were some Death Eaters there... They let us pass. Because we're Slytherins."

"Okay?"

"Then a bunch of Gryffindors came out of the castle and attacked us."

Draco frowned angrily. "Attacked you?! When you were on their side?"

"Well, yes, they didn't know, I suppose," said Pansy. "But then I told them we were on their side. And I guess the Death Eaters heard because..."

"Because what?" he stared at her with such force it almost frightened her.

"One of them came after me. Called me a traitor and that. Cursed me."

Draco shut his eyes as if he didn't want it to be true, and put a hand over his face, drew it through his hair. "No..."

"He used the Unforgivable one on me. And held me down..."

"He did what?!" Draco burst out in violent anger now. "Where the hell was Slughorn and Zabini and your friends?!"

"They didn't see. They had already gone inside. I thought I was going to die. He said he was going to kill me and then find you and kill you too."

Draco swore loudly and turned around, let out an angry groan and punched the stone wall. Pansy jumped.

"Stop it!" she exclaimed, terrified, and grabbed his shoulders. His knuckles were bloody when he turned back. Suddenly, she regretted telling him.

"FUCK!" he shouted again and staggered away.

"Draco, stop it! I'm fine," she grabbed hold of him again.

"Those fucking bastards! I want to kill all of them, I'm going to find him—"

She hadn't realised what a weak state Draco was in. She shook him and said, "I don't even know why I told you! Can you just forget this?"

"No!" he said, staring at her now, "who was he? WHO, Pansy?"

"I don't know! He was trampled down by a giant right after! He's gone, okay?! He's dead! There's nothing to do about it now. I don't even know why I told you, I shouldn't have said—"

Breathing heavily, Draco stumbled away from her and slumped down against the wall. He sat with his hands over his face. She realised she was panting to, and for a moment she stood there cautiously watching him. Was he crying again?

Then she crept closer and crouched down. "Draco, it's over... I'm fine. I don't know why I told you now; I just thought you should know – I don't know..."

"It's all my fault."

It came as a devastated whisper from behind his hands. She didn't know what to say.

"It's all my fault, I got you involved in this mess." He swore again and kicked aside an old vase.

"What the hell are you on about? It's his fault. And I guess I could've been more discreet. I mean I practically shouted 'I'm a traitor'!"

He finally looked up at her. His eyes were red and he was even paler than normal. He put his hands on either side of her cheeks as his eyes darted around her face. "I'm so sorry, Pans. Are you all right?"

She nodded.

"I never wanted you to be involved in this," he then said, letting go of her and looking away. "I knew I had to... see all this shit and do it too. But I never thought you'd have to experience it. I thought I was doing it to protect you and my parents and make sure we all survived..."

"You were!" she said. "You did protect me. I was just being stupid. I put myself at risk. I should've stayed away like you said. You can't blame yourself for this."

He stared out into nothing for a long time. She sat down next to him and grabbed his hand and put it in hers. Slowly she brought it up to her mouth and kissed it.

"I'm so glad it's over now," she whispered. "It really couldn't have come at a better time, as well. I'm so glad it's all over. The Carrows are gone and we're almost done with school. The Dark Lord's gone, Draco. The Death Eaters are being captured. You do realised it's over right? He's gone."

And it dawned on him that he really was. Gone. Dead. Forever? In a way that was frightening. He'd known his life with the Dark Lord. Now, he was to have a completely different life. A new life. Another chance. A life full of possibilities. All the doors were open now. And yet, the fear of the Dark Lord returning hadn't left him fully. And Draco knew the stigma around his history would never let him be completely free, even if he somehow managed to evade Azkaban. But a stigmatised life would be way better than his life in the Dark Lord's service.

No, Pansy was right in one thing. The battle couldn't have come at a more appropriate time. He'd known the situation with Amycus Carrow as well as the situation with Crabbe wouldn't last forever. They had both deteriorated so greatly they were bound to end up in explosion.

Now, somehow, these problems had been solved too. Although it was at the cost of Crabbe's death.

But at least, in some ways, Draco was free now. He just had to come to terms with it.

It was going to be a very long day, week and probably month.