A/N: Ahh! The faceoff! When our favorite Wonder Boy faces Voldemort for a final stand. We know how it ends, but.. there's a twist. Hehe. You'll just have to read, won't you? Quite a dramatic chapter. Sorry about the over-dramatization, but ain't that what fiction is? And here you go. Angst really begins here.
Chapter 3
At 11:57 in the morning on July 30th, the Death Eaters arrived. Not one by one, nor pair by pair; almost completely synchronized, most every single one appeared at that exact moment.
The Dark Lord had yet to appear. The Aurors looked around nervously, scanning the horizon and any shady corner, as if he'd appear with a flourish and a cheap sound effect like a vampire from an old horror movie.
The Death Eaters waited patiently for their master. There were fifty of them at least, sixty at most. Most of the Aurors stared at the ranks of Death Eaters, either in shock at their numbers, or hatred in general.
At high noon exactly, a ripple of gasps slid over the Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord materialized. The Aurors had a mixed reaction; most brave covering of fear, some fearful awe, a few the stupidity of dead-on hate. One, the youngest, poor little Dennis Creevey, threw up.
He looked up at them with those reptilian eyes and said with infinite majesty, calm and patience: "I am here."
Harry stepped forward and by instinct the Aurors followed in suit, if a little more discreetly.
His voice brash and uncaring: "So am I."
"Then we go on?" Voldemort said. Harry nodded; even that was modified by his fear, apathy, love and hate. It was simply a short jerk of his head.
With a flick of his wrist Harry's wand was in his hand. Voldemort looked amused. "Oh, wands," he said. "Is that necessary? Well, then, fine. I suppose I'll play along." He snapped his fingers and his wand appeared in his right hand.
"You can go first." Harry's hand tightened around the wand. "You don't play by honor, Voldemort. I'm allowing you to go first, because you'd do it anyway."
Voldemort laughed. "The boy learns." His hand raised, wand pointed at him until eventually all he could see was the tip. "But your lesson is over and done with, Harry Potter. And you have failed."
As he watched the vile lips trace the familiar curse, he raised his own wand to his chest.
All the Death Eaters stared. Only one stared with tears forming in his eyes.
Draco Malfoy, with his hand in his pocket, absent-mindedly ran his fingers over the cool surface of a small globe. "No," he wanted to say. "You can't do this. Not today. I got you the perfect birthday present."
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It was the eve of July 29th when two things arrived in Draco Malfoy's room.
One was a letter sent through the fire. He knew it was from Harry. Two words were displayed. Not tonight. Didn't that say it all?
The other was the thing he had been waiting for weeks upon weeks. The perfect present for Harry. Just in time.
A Kristallinneres. It was a clear crystal globe, small enough to fit in your palm. It worked something like a pensieve. If you squeezed it and thought deeply about your fondest memories, they would go into the stone, and once squeezed again, it would display them in the curved crystal surface.
It was full to the brim of his happy memories with Harry.
Draco knew that he couldn't remain as Harry's lover much longer. His father would force him to marry. If Lucius Malfoy knew, or even wondered.. it could not happen. They had to end it, and that cut the emotional knees from beneath Draco.
At least Harry could walk away with fond memories of him. That was all that mattered. Someone had to remember him that way. He could look at the way Draco saw him, loved him, cared for him for all of these nearly five years; and doing this, could either mourn the passing of their love, or glow in the knowledge that somebody loved him.
All Draco wanted to do was keep Harry happy. Though he'd been doing it for years, it began to bother him now. He'd do anything to keep him happy. Even sacrifice his own happy memories of his lover to do it.
It was pathetic. Pathetic, but true.
He loved Harry Potter enough to give him away, completely. When the person was gone, all that was left was the love and the memories.
All he had left was the love. And it hurt.
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Harry saw the tears in Draco's eyes glitter in the sun like the man on the chopping block sees the deep scratches beside his head. He bit his lip. Draco. Draco. He shook his head,
held the wand to his chest.
"Avada... Kedavra!" Voldemort screamed. As the green light rushed towards him, Harry closed his eyes and repeated the foreign syllables that so often repeated in his dreams.
"Avada Kedavra!" The words sped so fast from his mouth he nearly tripped over them.
It felt like a liquid wind so cold, so frozen couldn't describe it. It felt like fear embodied.
It felt like he was dying.
A/N: Dun-dun-dun. Not really a cliffhanger, but a nice little edge to sit on. Review please, I'll love you. I'd pay you if I had money. Ah well. Next chapter up soon!
