Chapter XXV: Seeker's loss.

Cho Chang tossed and turned on her bed, unable to sleep. Dumbledore had dismissed them earlier when they basically hit a wall in their plan. Word had gotten out that there were several attacks against wizards in the last few hours and consequently killed every one of them.

Cho read the reports and killed would be putting it nicely.

The bodies of the wizards were either ripped apart, slashed or had their appendages blown off by a powerful spell.

The others thought that the Death Eaters had emerged from hiding but Cho, Shiva and Alexander knew better.

And the others did when the rest of the report was read.

Preliminary reports told them that all the wizards, or whatever was left of them, had the dark mark.

The frightening thing was that they were Death Eaters and were dispatched with ease. The problem was, the hideouts of the Death Eaters were miles apart and the killings happened at almost the same time.

And they were killed the same way.

Cho shivered when she heard the report. She was sure that he could do such carnage but what she didn't know that he was capable of that much carnage.

She wished she could see the Ian than she had learned to love.

The Ian she had seen walking out of the infirmary with a wounded hand was a stranger to her. Cold and desolate, Slytherins are warmer than him.

When she looked at Dumbledore earlier when they read the report, she could tell that he was afraid.

She never saw him afraid before. Concerned, yes. Worried, definitely. But afraid?

But reading the report and assuming that he did it, which she did not doubt, Ian was everyone's worst nightmare.

It was hard for her to think that Ian was her nightmare. In fact, Ian somehow calmed her nightmares.

Cho tried to remember Ian as the kind person who she fell in love with as she cried herself to sleep.

Wishing that she could see him smile again.

… … …

Draco Malfoy sighed as he drank a tankard of butterbeer. It had been quite a drought for him and he never expected to taste such luxuries again. He lazily lay on a feathered bed in the Shrieking Shack thinking about his options.

Betray those who left him or be tortured by the dark cloaked man he saw as Death. It was an easy answer, but what after?

What would his life be after they had completed their mission and survived. His features turned into a frown as he considered his options, which he realized he had none.

"You're thinking too much," Death said as he quietly entered the room.

"Am I that obvious?" Draco said sullenly.

"You can't hide your emotions and thoughts from me," he said. "Though I am muddled by your answer. Will you help me or betray me?"

"Oh, I will help you," Draco said in vehemence but his tone lightened as he spoke to him. "But, I'm not saying this because I believe I'll get out of this alive but what after? People will despise me. People will call me a traitor and Dumbledore might accept me back but what of the others?" Death smiled as he sat down on a chair near his bed.

"I had made a deal with the ministry," he said. "If we fail, they would disavow any knowledge of our actions."

"How big of them," Draco smirked and took a swig of butterbeer. Death smiled as his remark and continued.

"However, when we pulled this off, you will have your properties returned to you. All previous charges will be cleared and if you so choose, you will given a proper job."

"People will know me," Draco frowned. "Even if my crime are cleared, my name is still sullied by a wrong decision."

"Muggles do not know you," Death said. "It would take time for you to adjust but the world is a big place for you to get lost."

Draco pondered on this. It sounded too good to be true and when it is, there must be a catch.

"What are you not telling me?" he asked.

"When you decided to live and work with the muggles, you will severe every contact you had from the wizarding world. No one will know you ever existed… ever."

"Not even Harry Potter and his crew?" he asked.

"Not even," Death said. "You will be dismissed as déjà vu."

"That easy huh?" Draco sighed. "Is there another way?"

"If you survived and I did not, go to Sirius Black," he said. "I've talked to him and only he knows of you involvement. You two will discuss the subject further."

"You sounded like you don't expect to live after this," Draco said as he placed the tankard on the floor.

"To tell you the truth, I never expected to live," he said almost sullenly. "When you have nothing to live for, you try to find the reason to go on. Even if it's as simple as looking at the sunrise each day."

"You sound as if you've found that sunrise and lost it again," Draco said perceptively.

"Quite," Death sighed and stood. "Sleep well, young Malfoy. I will await your decision until tomorrow."

"I've already have decided," Draco said when he lay on the bed. Strangely, Death was tucking him in, something no one had done for him before. It was a wonderful feeling but he tried not to let it show. "The thing is, I don't know if I can get through it."

"You will," Death assured him. "You're a fighter. You fought despair inside Azkaban, you fought your hate towards Harry Potter…"

"I still hate him, you know," Draco smirked.

"I know. But this time, you only hate him because he didn't kill you. Am I right?" Draco sighed and looked at him sullenly.

"When I was a boy, I thought that Death was cruel. I thought my father was Death and I thought that his master is the Devil. Now, I never imagined that Death would be so kind."

"We judge our actions in accordance of how they lived their lives. Trust me when I say this, Death will not be kind to those undeserving. Go to sleep and rest well." The room's light faded as Draco closed his eyes.

And in the first time in years, he had a restful sleep.