Disclaimer in Part 1.
The moon was only the slimmest of crescents in the dark sky, a slash of silver on black. In a few more nights it would be gone entirely, turned to the dark moon, but for now anyone being denied the oblivion of sleep could look skyward and take some slight comfort in it's faint presence - an eternal reminder that all things come to completion, then fade away, and are then resurrected once again. Nothing is fixed; nothing is permanent. In the end, all things must change, must be destroyed only to be made anew. Everything is flux. Stone crumbles, writing fades. The only thing to stay the same is change itself.
This idea was very much in the thoughts of Ron and Hermione as they lay sleepless, their eyes burning in their lonely camp in the midst of the Carpathians. Just a few years ago they had been so close to Harry, bound together in a friendship that had seemed so true, so real, so unbreakable. They'd been through so much together; tears, laughter, danger. And now look. Through some bizarre twist of fate Harry had found a new path, a path as different from the one everyone had believed he was meant for as could possibly be. And in the end they could only let him go and deal with the consequences. The Harry they had once known was now only a memory, a ghost, lost to them forever. Or at least in this lifetime.
Harry himself was sleeping, curled up in his nest of blankets by the banked campfire, pressed up against the warmth of Draco's body, his eyes flicking beneath tightly closed lids. But Draco wasn't resting, wasn't allowed the peace of dreams. His eyes were wide open, staring into the darkness, his body tense for some reason he couldn't identify, straining against passive waiting. He couldn't bear it, slipping out of the mess of blankets he stalked along the rock ledge with the grace of a cat, his eyes taking in the silent huddle of his army. They would have to be released directly on the morrow, before the wizarding world could recover from the effects of his Arnelin spell weaving...he sighed. He'd put so much care into that glamour so that Harry wouldn't notice what was happening to him and in just one moment of carelessness it had all come out. But deep inside he was grateful that it had ended. It had been useful, essential to his plans. But also deadly.
His eyes traveled to the east. The sliver of moon had set and he could just make out the jagged outlines of mountains against the horizon. Something deep inside him shuddered at the thought of the dawn. He knew that whatever came, this would be a day to change everything...or nothing.
* * *
But it is impossible to stop the flow of time, no matter how much one might like to. Dawn came, the red rim of the sun breaking over the eastern skyline the way it had since the earth had formed, a process that was inexorable and irresistible and would continue until everything was at last returned to dust and destroyed. Draco watched the light spread slowly across the land with a look of deep apprehension in his eyes. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was standing at the top of a great wheel about to turn, bringing him to the ground either to set him on his course or crush him beneath it's weight, deciding his future with it's motion. He shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself, a reflex born not entirely of the early morning's chill.
He didn't turn when he felt Harry come up behind him, there was no need to. He just stood and waited for Harry to speak first.
We release them now?
Draco stepped up to the edge of the cliff, looking down at the vast bulk of his army. He drew a deep breath and raised his arms, suddenly appearing tall and imposing, like some entity from a higher world. Hundreds of silent faces stared up at him, tense and expectant, awaiting his command, willing to fight for him, die for him. And Draco accepted their pledge.
He threw his head back to the leaden sky, dull and ominous, and a cry rose up from his throat that echoed throughout the stony landscape.
Go. Go and fight!
They moved like a well-oiled machine, trickling out of the valley in ribbons, a never ending line of death. Draco watched them for a moment, his face impassive and aloof, before turning to Harry, his hands reaching up to clutch at his arms.
Will you watch over them for me, guide them for me?
Harry nodded gravely, reaching up to gently clasp Draco's hands in his own, their eyes meeting, green melting into silver. Harry felt a sudden pang of foreboding as he leaned over to press his lips to Draco's, as if this would be the last time he ever did this. He tried to push it away and desperately deepened the kiss, sensing tears building behind his lids at the feel of Draco responding just as fervently, his arms reaching around Harry's neck. But it finally came to it's inevitable end despite their efforts to draw it out, their faces drawing apart slowly, reluctantly. Draco ran his hand along Harry's cheek, looking like he wanted to say something, but then he just gave Harry a sad smile and stepped back.
Harry felt his heart contract. Where are you going?
Those achingly beautiful eyes flicked uneasily to the west. I can sense something...
That pang of dread again. Let me go instead.
But Draco was shaking his head, the expression on his face set and determined. No. You stay here, guide the army. I'll be back whenever I'm done, don't be so paranoid. I can look after myself, you know.
Harry bit his lip, knowing that putting up an argument would be useless. So he watched in silence as his love Disapparated, then pressed his wand to his temple, murmuring, His vision immediately expanded, left himself, looked out on the vast horde stretched out beneath him and knew he could command them with a single word - but even then, filled to the brim with such an awesome power, on thread of his consciousness remained fixed on that slender white-and-silver figure moving through a colorless world.