Draco wandered the empty battlefield, searching for….something. anything. So far, nada. It seemed the explosion that had destroyed Voldemort had also destroyed his daughter, and her alter-ego. He stood still for a moment, the sun hot on his face. It was ridiculous, that in April, it was so fucking hot. Dry wind blew around him, making his robes billow around his legs.

All around were corpses. Centaurs, eyes wide and tails blowing slightly, moving even in death. Scraps of dementor robes lay around on the floor, and he could have sworn he saw a singular hand lying there. Huge bloated corpses of he didn't know what lay around, along with other demons he had seen pictures of in his father's dark arts books but didn't know the names of.

Every so often he'd pass a student, like Justin Finch-Fletchley. His throat had been torn out and the ground he lay on was red. Or Cho…he couldn't remember her last name. The pretty Ravenclaw that Harry had so blatantly fancied for years. Then there was Pansy. Turns out, she had been the first Slytherin to turn traitor on everything she knew. Draco had always thought it was just him, or that it had been him first. But she had turned traitor in fifth year. Two years ago, and no one had noticed. Not even him, who spent a large portion of his time simply watching people.

A soft cough and a groan interrupted the silence of the ex-battlefield. Then the soft croon of a pheonix followed. Draco looked up and around, searching frantically for the origin of the sound. Hogwarts had suffered amazing casualties, and any living was a cause for celebration.

Another cough, and Draco identified the direction it came from. He quickly walked over, checking around and beneath some of the bigger (and uglier) demon corpses. He moved another human corpse, a Hufflepuff first year, by the looks of it, and an emerald green pheonix flew up. Startled, he jumped back, tripping over the legs of the corpse and landing on the side of a dead centaur. He rolled backwards and off of it, and landed flat on his face, his cheek to the dusty ground. And straight ahead of him were bright green eyes in a bloody and dirty face. But these eyes shone, and they blinked.

"Hey, hold on. I'll get you outta there." Draco said. "Try not to move too much, okay?"

They were buried under what looked like a rather large, rather slimy green thing. It eluded him when he tried to move it.

"Grab just to the right of where you're aiming for." The voice was rough and croaky. "It's an optical illusion caused by the light on its scales. And for the record, it's not slimy at all. Just really smooth."

"Thanks for that." Draco commented, grabbing seemingly thin air and shoving away from the figure that lay prone on the ground. It was a dark haired girl, but that wasn't how he recognised her. There was just something about her, not anything he physically recognised, but…her aura, he supposed you could call it, strong and defiant…but unusually quiet.

The black clothes were filthy and torn and her throat was rubbed raw by the chain that still hung from it and her eyes were dark brown. She raised herself slowly off the ground, her waist length dark chestnut hair falling over her shoulders. She paused a moment, on her hands and knees, before tipping back so she knelt. Slowly, she pushed her hair off her face, and Draco stared.

"Amelie. Are you alright?" Amelie jumped slightly and looked around, hugging herself. "How do you feel? Are you hurt?"

"I feel…empty." Amelie whispered. Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked up at Draco as they overflowed and streaked down her dirty face. "Draco…she's gone."

"What?" Draco fell to her knees in front of her. "What do you mean?"

"Hermione. She's not…with me, anymore. She's not inside me."

"Maybe she's just in a mental box. Or something."

"No." Amelie paused. "She…she broke out of the box…when we were…destroying him. All there was was this…this heat. And this pain and this tearing apart, like I was being pulled in so many different directions, but I didn't fit. And then we caught fire and we burned and burned…and she was screaming, and then she was beside me, and in me too and I was just thinking…how? But, then, Voldemore suddenly realised what was happening, and it was so slow. He didn't understand until the last minute, and he was…sad. I didn't know he could be sad. But he was. And he said, 'I thought you loved me' and then…there was this big flash and me and Hermione and the pheonix pulled apart, and there was just us in a triangle with this heart between us, but then it exploded into lots of little orbs…but was gone again." Amelie looked up at him through tear-polished chocolate eyes, "I don't understand it." Draco pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her, as she cried softly into his chest.

"Draco!" Draco looked up and Amelie stiffened.

"It's okay. It's only Blaise. He's on our side." Draco stood, helping Amelie up with him, supporting her. "Come on." He helped her to walk, but she took half a step before both her legs gave out. "Hold on then." Draco bent and scooped her up, and carried her around the obstacle course of a battlefield.

"Blaise? But…he was a deatheater. And a complete asshole."

"He wasn't a deatheater. The asshole part…I don't know. Most of the deatheaters we thought were really loyal…weren't. Even Pansy - even she was a spy. The first of them, actually. And here I was thinking I was special. Well, you can't win them all, I suppose."

"All that time…I was right." Amelie murmured.

"What?"

"I told…I told Voldemort that Pansy and Blaise weren't loyal deatheaters. I thought they were real deatheaters…but I was right – they werent."

"You've found one! Is she…" Blaise jogged over, and looked down at her. "I don't…recognise her. Is she an auror?"

"No. This is Amelie." Draco said, walking past Blaise headed for the castle.

"Amelie? Amelie…Voldemort? What the hell are you helping her for?"

"Amelie Evans." Amelie murmured. "Not…Voldemort."

"It's Amelie Evans. And she's been here all term, helping us learn how to destroy Voldemort. She and Hermione together."

"But Draco…how could you not have heard? Hermione was killed…over break. Amelie's been sitting in for her using her megamorphmagus powers."

"No. They shared a body…someone put them together, and now they've been split. But Hermione's…gone."

"She could be around…alive…just under…something." Blaise looked around and shrugged.

"I don't think so." Amelie whispered, tears welling in her eyes again. Draco looked down at her as he climbed the steps.

"What do you mean?"

"I think the pheonix used her to explode us the way it did."

"All those little glowing orbs? One went in me…it was weird." Blaise put in. Amelie nodded.

"Those orbs may well have been Hermione."

"It might explain the weird feeling."

"Are you calling my girlfriend weird?" Draco demanded, kicking open the door and starting the long journey up the stairs.

"Your girlfriend? You mean you and her…man! No wonder you got so freaky. But how…if she and Amelie were sharing a body…wow. Two in one."

"Don't be crass." Amelie said sharply. "Such things as mental boxes, thankfully, exist."

"Careful Draco…there's a girl saying she doesn't want you."

"Oh please. I was his fiancee since birth." Amelie snapped.

"You mean you two are getting married? Wow."

"Were. Were getting married. We're not anymore."

"Why'd'ya break up?" Blaise queried as they neared the hospital wing.

"Who are you and where's the Blaise Zabini that was a complete asshole?" Amelie asked, tilting her head.

"A rather elaborate act. And anyway…I thought you were Amelie. So…why'd you break up?"

"We were never together. It was an arranged marriage since we were born. But now that Voldemort's gone…" Amelie shrugged.

"Is he really gone, this time?" Draco muttered, almost more to himself than anyone else.

"He is." Amelie said softly. "His spirit was torched by the pheonix fire. You saw all the deatheaters die."

"And Harry did do the hex." Blaise pointed out.

"That doesn't necessarily-"

"Amelie!" They'd opened the door to the infirmary and everyone had stopped at the sight of Draco carrying the presumed-dead Amelie. Blaise they'd seen before. McGonagall rushed forward, pausing before Draco and Amelie. She touched Amelie's cheek. "You're alive."

"Would be kicking too, except that I think my leg might be broken. It's a bit numb from the waist down." Amelie shrugged, and Draco moved past McGonagall to lay Amelie on a bed. Madame Pomfrey bustled over and administered the necessary potion without saying anything, but with a revealing twist to her lips that was almost a smile. With a small cracking noise, Amelie felt her leg reknit itself until it was healed.

"That's better, thanks. So how's everyone else?"

"Ron's dead." Draco said softly. Amelie's eyes widened.

"And the others?"

"Harry isnt doing too well. Ginny's still unconscious. She went all warrior-princess as soon as Ron died, even using a wicked-looking scythe to decapitate his killer before moving on to another unlucky yet misguided soul. She failed to notice the rather large hole in her stomach, and collapsed bleeding on the floor. Made for a rather dramatic exit, I must say." Blaise shrugged. "She's a fighter. She'll recover."

"I wanna see her." Amelie said, swinging her legs off the bed.

"No you don't." Pomfrey said sternly. "Another fifteen minutes before you move." Amelie sank back onto her bed with a sigh, crossing her legs at the ankles and pulling the leather gloves from her hands, along with the emerald ring. Under the gloves was the mark of the bronze ring, a brown smudge around her thumb, but the ring itself was missing.

"Must be on…" Blaise trailed off as Draco flopped onto the chair beside the bed, bracing his elbows on his knees and hanging his head in his hands. Amelie reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, but said nothing.

"Mr Potter. There is probably something you should…" Amelie's head jerked up at McGonagall's voice, and she and her brother locked eyes.

"Amelie." He breathed, coming forward to her bedside. "How…when…"

"Draco found me. I was under a Scorag demon. He broke my leg, the bastard. But I'll be good for moving in about seven minutes, so all's good." Harry sat on the edge of her bed, touching her hair. "I'm sorry." He looked down for a second then met her eyes again.

"So am I. But…I've not lost everyone. I still have you, and Ginny…hell, I even have Draco!" he grimaced a little.

"Thanks." Draco looked up with a wry smile, though his eyes were shiny and the colour of wet slate.

"Nah, I mean it. I've lost Ron. But I'm lucky it wasn't everyone." Amelie gave a small smile, taking his hand. But she didn't say anything.

"Mr Malfoy? Could you give Ms Weasley her medicine?" Draco nodded, rising to his feet.

"Ginny! Can I see her now?" Amelie turned pleading eyes on the nurse, who nodded.

Amelie moved unsteadily across the floor, waving Draco, Harry and Blaise back when they reached out to help her. She stood by Ginny's bed, looking down at the unconscious redhead. She reached out and touched Ginny's cheek with her fingertips. She smiled, a tear escaping down her cheek.

"Will she be okay?" She looked over her shoulder at Madame Pomfrey.

"I hope so. I refuse to only have on moment of ass-kicking glory. That's the most fun I've had in months." Amelie and the others spun at the sound of the soft croaky voice. Ginny Weasley looked up at them from bright blue eyes, shiny with fever.

"It's all about you, isnt is sweetie?" Amelie asked with a laugh.

"Says you. Do you even know what you look like? Some kind of dominatrix." Ginny coughed harshly, raising one hand to her mouth and then letting it fall back to the sheets. Amelie flicked her hair over her shoulder and flashed a beauty-queen smile.

"How do you feel?" Amelie asked.

"Kinda numb. I know something happened, or I wouldn't have collapsed. And Ron…I don't think that bit's clicked yet. So far I don't feel particularly wracked with agony."

"Sweetling." Amelie murmured, taking Ginny's hand and squeezing gently.

"You were stabbed. You didn't notice much since you were too busy being Buffy, but then you collapsed." Dean Thomas came over with a smile. Ginny and Amelie stared.

"Where's your arm?" Amelie exclaimed. It was true. His left sleeve was pinned up over a stump.

"Who's Buffy?" Blaise asked.

"A deatheater killed my arm. Would have killed the rest of me too, if you hadnt accidentally cut it off." Ginny stared.

"Oh my god. I cut off your arm? I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, cuz dying was such a fun alternative." Draco intoned. Dean rolled his eyes.

"What he said. Anyway, I wanted to say thanks. It was my left arm anyway…I'm right handed."

"Yeah, but now you cant play Quidditch." Blaise pointed out. "And who's Buffy?"

"Football's more my sport anyway. And I don't need my arm for that." Dean grinned. "We're all really proud of you, Gin." She smiled.

"Thanks."

"The girl needs rest!" Pomfrey proclaimed, coming over and shooing the others away, despite Ginny's protests.

"We'll come back later." Amelie promised as she was chivvied away, and pulled towards the doorway by the others. Out in the hallway, she stopped.

"I'm going to my…her room. I need a shower and a change of clothes. And sleep would be cool too." She watched as Draco's face set into hard lines. She sent Harry a look and he steered Blaise away with talk of Quidditch. "Draco-"

"No, I know. It's your room too…it always has been. But it's just…"

"She's not there anymore."

"No." Amelie pulled Draco into an impulsive hug, burying her face in the familiar smell of his shoulder. Mental box or no, she still recognised the smell of him.

"It wont all be okay. But…the thing with loss is, well, is that you have to mourn her. Don't let her get buried inside you. She doesn't deserve that, neither do you." She paused, and Draco pulled back slightly to look at her. "I knew her better than anyone and she wouldn't want you to lock up."

"I'm not locking up." Draco said, pulling away from her and heading to the dorm. She walked beside him, her heels clicking on the floor as she walked quickly to catch up with him. She caught his hand in hers and held on tight, even when he tried to pull away from her. They walked (well, he more stormed) in silence to the Head suite, and Amelie didn't let go even when he said the password and the portrait swung open.

"Will you let go of me?"

"When you let go of me." Amelie answered calmly, and immediately the iron-grip on her hand loosened and the rush of blood to her hand made her hand tingle. Draco looked at his own hand in surprise. He hadnt even realised he had been reciprocating the hand-holding, let alone cutting off her circulation. She released his hand and sank onto one of the sofas, pulling up her trousers so she could unzip the knee-high boots. Once she'd kicked them off, she pulled her trousers down and crossed her legs indian-style and leaned back.

He sank onto the sofa next to her and tipped his head back against the backrest of the sofa.

"I still can't believe she's gone." He whispered. "It was hard to remember she was in that battle, because you were in control and everything you did and said and even what you looked like was so you…you know? None of it was her. But it was her, because now she's dead."

"We don't know that." Amelie said softly.

"Be realistic, Amelie. It's been over forty eight hours since the battle. If she was alive, we would have found her."

"Not necessarily. You found me only two hours ago, and all I have to show for it is a recently broken leg, several broken nails, smudged makeup and several grazes on my cheek and chin. She'll be alright, though I don't suppose anyone's thought to do a locator spell?"

"Nothing. Neither you nor her came up on it. But at least you're still alive."

"If I am, then there's a chance she is too. You just gotta have faith."

"I'm running out of faith."

"It's a good thing I'm a running supply, then, isnt it?" Amelie said softly. Draco looked over at her, and frowned. She had the strangest look on her face.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not sure." She paused, then shrugged. "Oh well, never mind. But Draco, I mean it. She'll be okay. And even if we don't know that, have a little faith in her. She's strong…stronger than any of us know."

"But she's still only human." Draco stood up and went to his room, shutting the door firmly between himself and Amelie's useless words.

"That she is." Amelie whispered, before rising to go have a shower, a change of clothes, and a sleep.

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