Title: Because He Had To.
Author: treyna
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: A dash of Harry/Draco.
Spoilers: Mmm, none, really.
Disclaimer: Rowling's, not mine. Never mine, pity.
Summary: It's time to make a choice. Companion piece to 'So He Did'.
Notes: Again, thanks to Gabe and Tenchi Kaze-sensei. I now understand run-on sentances do not maketh a story! :)
It had been difficult, at times nearly fatal, but somehow Draco had managed not to take sides during the war. Immediately after graduation, he had simply packed up his belongings and ran. Either that, or be pulled in by his family to join Voldemort or be pulled in by most of the school to join Dumbledore and Potter. Both sides had their benefits, their fair share of 'ups and downs'.
Both terrified him no end.
So Draco had run. For three years he successfully avoided being roped in by moving from place to place, country to country. Never being able to trust anyone fully, it had been a very lonely three years. A self-berating three years as he tried to convince himself he was not a coward. His family understood to some extent. They were family, after all, regardless of them being Death Eaters. Some things just had a bit more of a stronger pull. They didn't support him, but they didn't close his accounts either.
The rest of the wizarding community were not always quite so understanding. Both Death Eaters and Dumbledore supporters did not take to his 'pacifism' lightly. He had scars to prove it.
Through this time, Draco had managed to monitor both his family and Harry Potter. He still had some contacts that answered to him, and the Daily Prophet occasionally let slip some important information they thought was merely trivial. So he remained on the sidelines, watching carefully but never interfering.
Until now.
From what he had managed to find out, he could no longer stand on the sidelines. Now he was forced to make a choice.
His family, or The Boy Who Lived.
And he had no idea how the hell he was supposed to make that choice.
~
The scene that greeted his eyes as he Apparated into the chamber was total chaos.
To one side was his mother, magically fighting Sirius and Remus. Her beautiful face was twisted in a cruel sneer making her nearly unrecognizable as she threw curse after hex after curse at the two men. Voldemort, his red eyes gleaming chillingly, in some sort of stand-off with Dumbledore. Draco could barely make out the form of another person on the floor, either unconscious or dead.
But the one thing that stopped him cold was what he saw in front of him. There was his father, Lucius Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy with his arms raised and his fine robes billowing as he chanted spells rapidly in a cool, almost detached voice at the helpless victim before him.
Harry Potter. Draco could see him caught in the web of his father's spells and dangling just centimetres off the ground. Potter was clutching his neck and gasping for breath, slower and slower with each gasp. Draco knew this series of spells, he had seen his father use ones similar to this before. The realization chilled him to the bone.
Harry Potter, his long-time nemesis. The Boy Who Stole Draco's Glory, among other things. And he was going to die.
All sound suddenly disappeared as Draco's eyes locked with Harry's, the brilliant green seeming to dim with each gasp. Their eyes met, and it was like a connection. Suddenly, Draco finally made his long overdue decision. It seemed as if Harry nodded slightly, his eyes closing as Draco took a steadying breath and raised his wand.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The effect was instantaneous. His mother began to scream, the noise shattering the silence that had enveloped his mind. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see shapes moving towards her. No doubt the battle becoming physical now that the concentration for such powerful magic had been broken. Vaguely he registered Harry falling to the ground somewhere in front of him.
But he saw nothing of this. Not really.
Instead, Draco's horror filled eyes remained on his father. His dead father, a look of shock - or was that betrayal? - frozen on his face. His father, the man he had just killed.
He heard a noise. Just a small noise, but bursting with distress somehow escaping from his tightly pressed lips. One of his shaking hands reached forward, hesitating before touching his father's still warm forehead.
"Draco..."
Shuddering, Draco looked up into Harry's face, his green eyes no longer dim. A cut on Harry's forehead dribbled blood down the side of his face, his neck already bruising. He looked down again.
Draco could hear his mother's... could hear Narcissa's sobs and winced at each keening cry. He had done this. He had betrayed his family in the worst way. The absolute worst possible way. He felt a pain in his chest and wondered if it was possible for a human heart to shatter.
And then he felt arms around him, strong arms that held him tight. Blessedly his gaze was pulled away from the corpse in front of him. Draco pressed his face into Harry's neck, griped the other man's robes desperately as he shuddered. Slowly, the noise of Narcissa's anguish fading into a background buzz.
Draco knew now why he did what he did. Why he made this choice. Why he committed the ultimate betrayal.
For the ultimate reason.
Because he had to.
~
fin
Author: treyna
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: A dash of Harry/Draco.
Spoilers: Mmm, none, really.
Disclaimer: Rowling's, not mine. Never mine, pity.
Summary: It's time to make a choice. Companion piece to 'So He Did'.
Notes: Again, thanks to Gabe and Tenchi Kaze-sensei. I now understand run-on sentances do not maketh a story! :)
It had been difficult, at times nearly fatal, but somehow Draco had managed not to take sides during the war. Immediately after graduation, he had simply packed up his belongings and ran. Either that, or be pulled in by his family to join Voldemort or be pulled in by most of the school to join Dumbledore and Potter. Both sides had their benefits, their fair share of 'ups and downs'.
Both terrified him no end.
So Draco had run. For three years he successfully avoided being roped in by moving from place to place, country to country. Never being able to trust anyone fully, it had been a very lonely three years. A self-berating three years as he tried to convince himself he was not a coward. His family understood to some extent. They were family, after all, regardless of them being Death Eaters. Some things just had a bit more of a stronger pull. They didn't support him, but they didn't close his accounts either.
The rest of the wizarding community were not always quite so understanding. Both Death Eaters and Dumbledore supporters did not take to his 'pacifism' lightly. He had scars to prove it.
Through this time, Draco had managed to monitor both his family and Harry Potter. He still had some contacts that answered to him, and the Daily Prophet occasionally let slip some important information they thought was merely trivial. So he remained on the sidelines, watching carefully but never interfering.
Until now.
From what he had managed to find out, he could no longer stand on the sidelines. Now he was forced to make a choice.
His family, or The Boy Who Lived.
And he had no idea how the hell he was supposed to make that choice.
~
The scene that greeted his eyes as he Apparated into the chamber was total chaos.
To one side was his mother, magically fighting Sirius and Remus. Her beautiful face was twisted in a cruel sneer making her nearly unrecognizable as she threw curse after hex after curse at the two men. Voldemort, his red eyes gleaming chillingly, in some sort of stand-off with Dumbledore. Draco could barely make out the form of another person on the floor, either unconscious or dead.
But the one thing that stopped him cold was what he saw in front of him. There was his father, Lucius Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy with his arms raised and his fine robes billowing as he chanted spells rapidly in a cool, almost detached voice at the helpless victim before him.
Harry Potter. Draco could see him caught in the web of his father's spells and dangling just centimetres off the ground. Potter was clutching his neck and gasping for breath, slower and slower with each gasp. Draco knew this series of spells, he had seen his father use ones similar to this before. The realization chilled him to the bone.
Harry Potter, his long-time nemesis. The Boy Who Stole Draco's Glory, among other things. And he was going to die.
All sound suddenly disappeared as Draco's eyes locked with Harry's, the brilliant green seeming to dim with each gasp. Their eyes met, and it was like a connection. Suddenly, Draco finally made his long overdue decision. It seemed as if Harry nodded slightly, his eyes closing as Draco took a steadying breath and raised his wand.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The effect was instantaneous. His mother began to scream, the noise shattering the silence that had enveloped his mind. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see shapes moving towards her. No doubt the battle becoming physical now that the concentration for such powerful magic had been broken. Vaguely he registered Harry falling to the ground somewhere in front of him.
But he saw nothing of this. Not really.
Instead, Draco's horror filled eyes remained on his father. His dead father, a look of shock - or was that betrayal? - frozen on his face. His father, the man he had just killed.
He heard a noise. Just a small noise, but bursting with distress somehow escaping from his tightly pressed lips. One of his shaking hands reached forward, hesitating before touching his father's still warm forehead.
"Draco..."
Shuddering, Draco looked up into Harry's face, his green eyes no longer dim. A cut on Harry's forehead dribbled blood down the side of his face, his neck already bruising. He looked down again.
Draco could hear his mother's... could hear Narcissa's sobs and winced at each keening cry. He had done this. He had betrayed his family in the worst way. The absolute worst possible way. He felt a pain in his chest and wondered if it was possible for a human heart to shatter.
And then he felt arms around him, strong arms that held him tight. Blessedly his gaze was pulled away from the corpse in front of him. Draco pressed his face into Harry's neck, griped the other man's robes desperately as he shuddered. Slowly, the noise of Narcissa's anguish fading into a background buzz.
Draco knew now why he did what he did. Why he made this choice. Why he committed the ultimate betrayal.
For the ultimate reason.
Because he had to.
~
fin