Title: It Ends Here Tonight

Author: Rachel Hunt

Disclaimer: If I really thought I owned this, would I be putting it on a fanfiction site under 'harry potter'? 'Nuff said. And I definitely have nothing on the music featured. Previous chapter, as stated, was Storm by Saliva. This chapter is Everybody's Fool by Evanescence.

Summary: SONGFIC EPIC. Taking place around the time of their Seventh Year, the war with Voldemort has become so intense that regular school/classes have been put on hold (indefinitely) because all efforts must be put into merely surviving. Hogwarts has become one of the last safe houses and is partial Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix; only the most trusted members, generals if you will, are taken into Grimmauld Place. The dementors have gone over to Voldie, the prisoners of Azkaban are loose, and it's impossible to tell who is friend and who is foe, as the whole wizarding world is set on edge. Severus gets caught, Lucius is killed, Draco defects, and all sorts of angst and messing with of the natural order ensues. Death, love, suicide, duty, hope and loss are the main themes you'll find here. Also featuring: a grim Dumbledore, a murderous Ron, an isolated Harry, and a resolute Ginny. All will come to a head in the final battle between The Boy Who Lived and the Dark Lord. Ultra dramatic. I repeat, SONGFIC EPIC

Projected Length: 26 chapters, may become slightly longer or shorter due to requests from reviewers, my own laziness, etc (suggestions and theories welcome, I just don't promise to take them)

Musical Artists to be Featured: Saliva, Evanescence, Puddle of Mudd, Nickelback (also considering Disturbed, Element Eighty, and Tantric; open to suggestions)

Rating: PG-13, probably R later. Definitely adult themes, though… when I say PG-13, I don't mean just for occasional swearing.

Pairings: Draco/Hermione, and maybe a little something for a few special guest stars… If you're going to try to guess, keep in mind that I have no qualms about almost anything, from slash to extreme age differences. Everything is a possibility. Except Ron/Voldemort. That would be icky. shudder

Author's Note: I think that Evanescence might be the most songficced band in the history of songfics. Has anyone else noticed this? On another note, I just got Phantom of the Opera on Tuesday, and I'm majorly obsessed… like I haven't done any homework or anything all week because I'm too busy watching it over and over again. I have a big fat crush on Gerard Butler. I think he and Jason Isaacs are the two hottest men alive (look at Jasono Isaacs in The Patriot, not Harry Potter, and you'll see what I mean). So it took a lot of willpower to turn around, face away from the TV, and write this… though POTO is still playing behind me and I'm listening to it. So, be forewarned, it may influence my writing. I dunno. Enjoy. (later addition) I ended up writing this in two parts, because half way through my stepdad's father died, which 1) meant my whole family has been busy handling that and 2) made writing this chapter, which is from Draco's point of view after his parents deaths, a little… not awkward, but something like that. So now it's the night before my high school graduation that I'm finishing this. That's why there has been such a long delay. Okay, I'm done now. Really. I hope you enjoy, and have no way of knowing if you don't review. puppy dog eyes

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR READING:

--…-- will be used to distinguish lyrics from thoughts

LAST TIME: Snape was captured, Lucius killed, and Narcissa was given over to Bellatrix for 24 hours of punishment, with only one order: that she not die within that time. Draco was conspicuous by his absence… and now we continue.

EDITED & REPOSTED

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It Ends Here Tonight Chapter Two: Malfoys Never Cry

"Everybody's Fool" by Evanescence

They followed him everywhere. He couldn't move without their eyes upon him.

Draco Malfoy, for the first time in his life, wanted nothing more than to be alone. But it was the one thing he couldn't seem to have.

Other than his parents back.

Something suspiciously similar to a sob tried to claw its way up from his chest, but it stuck in his throat and all that came out his mouth was a choked gasp for air. He hurried down a back hallway of the Keep, heading for a little used, dusty staircase. Anywhere he might find solitude.

Finding the stairs behind a heavy door, he stumbled down two flights to a place where they didn't bother to keep torches and all was black. But the tears still wouldn't come.

He was, after all, his father's son.

--Perfect by nature—

He slid down the wall, coming to rest with his head hanging between his knees, his long, lanky body trailing across several steps. The muscles in his neck were cording tight, as if he would strangle himself through sheer frustration, while his legs felt so slack and limp he wasn't sure he'd ever walk again. He hadn't been present for his father's murder or his mother's sentence, running an errand for them in Diagon Alley, where commerce went on despite the war raging in the wizarding world. But Pansy had wasted no time in bringing the news of his godfather's betrayal…. and the results.

Severus Snape. His fingers dug into his palms. It was his fault. This man the Malfoy's had trusted as they trusted few, and he had betrayed everything in their world. Draco had grown up with Severus as a second father, had loved him as one of his mentors and role models.

But it was all a lie.

And now, something was breaking inside Draco.

From the shadows just down the stairs there was suddenly movement and the distinctive sound of a door being opened. Draco stilled, cursing everything around him down to the cobwebs. The last thing he wanted right then was for another one of the damn Death Eaters to see him having a mental breakdown.

He stood, trying to regain some of the cool Malfoy shell his father had tried so hard to instill in him as a figure emerged from the doorway. It paused at seeing him, and then he heard a low-toned, melodious chuckle. His stomach clenched at the sound. He had come to know that voice very well in the last several years.

--Icons of self indulgence--

The smiling face of his Aunt Bellatrix slowly emerged from the darkness below. The black of her robes blended in with the shadows so that her head and hands floated up towards him. She looked much better than she had right after her return from Azkaban, but something about her now frightened him that hadn't before. It was accompanied by an icy rage that churned his gut, made him want to spit hateful words at her… his mother had raised him on stories of her bold, beautiful sister, her intelligence and fearlessness, and above all, her cunning. But none of it mattered now… he knew how she'd spent the last day.

Pansy had taken great delight in delivering every detail of what he'd missed.

"Darling nephew Draco…" Bella cooed to him in her self-satisfied way. She looked like a pampered cat as she mounted the steps, coming up to him with slow, deadly grace. Oddly, she looked saner than she had since her return from Azkaban, less manic. Something inside him turned over as he realized she was in the midst of an after-glow.

--Just what we all need—

Stretching her arms in long, pale lines above her head, she said, "What, no hello kiss for your Aunty Bella?" Her grin was a baring of gleaming white teeth.

Draco couldn't respond. It was all he could do to keep his face relatively passive. Her eyes, which had been so sadistically pleased a moment ago, returned to their cold deadness as she watched him. "You look so much like your parents, Draco…" She reached her pale hand toward his face, but he flinched, jumping back when he saw the blood embedded under her fingernails. What has she done…?

Quick as thought, she was backing him into the wall, wand in hand and thin body too close for comfort. His back hit the stones sharply as he instinctively tried to stay out of reach, the whites of his eyes showing as she leaned into him.

"I would be careful if I were you, oh Nephew of Mine. I'm the only family you have, now." And she grinned at him, her face coming closer to his own until she was but an inch away. "Your father didn't have time to scream properly before he died, but your mother has made up for it…" Oh, God, he could smell blood on her breath… why was there blood on her breath? "There's no need for you to pay for the sins of your father, as long as you remember where your loyalty, and best interest, lies. The Dark Lord is your master, Draco." She kissed his forehead then, lightly, not an affectionate but rather a condemning gesture. Bile rose in the back of his throat. "Remember that, Draco."

More lies about a world that--

And just like that, she left him there, the scent of blood and pain clinging about her and gore staining the lines of her hands. Draco started shaking, and when he heard a heavy door slam far above him, the pain in his soul tore through the meat of his body. He screamed his rage, fear, and grief, pounding his fists into the cold stones behind him until his hands were numb. He didn't care who saw him or heard him, who knew that his world had crumbled around him and left him standing alone in a cold wind.And still there were no tears.

--Never was and never will be--

He found himself bent double, arms wrapped tight around his stomach as if he could push it all back in.

What he needed was to rest, to sleep and be alone for a time, even if he knew he'd be watched in his normal rooms. At least there he wouldn't have to interact with the people watching him. Standing, he headed up the stairs, stretching out his hands as feeling began to return and an ache set in.

He managed to remain relatively out of sight until he reached the dormitory area for the children of Death Eaters, those who had yet to receive the Mark or had only recently been inducted, not yet proven. There, he would have to pass through the common area, and the eyes of teens and children alike would follow him. He was painfully aware of the fact that he did not look like his normal Malfoy self; dirt and dust stained the hems of his black robes, and he knew his usually immaculate hair fell, disheveled, around his angular face. He saw that his fingernails were torn and bleeding as he pushed the door to the common room open, and didn't know when it had happened; the pain seemed to be a distant sensation, not quite real.

The fine carpets and wall hangings that filled the room seemed to reach for him as he entered, trying to grab and hold him. When the heels of his expensive boots hit bare stone, the sound seemed to echo through the room and his mind, to call the attention of those few who may not have noticed him yet.

They were less discreet in their observations than their parents were. Here, they didn't even bother to pretend they weren't watching, weren't whispering about him. He saw Blaise Zabini grin at something his younger sister said, obviously smothering a laugh.

--Have you no shame, don't you see me--

Draco looked straight ahead, unwilling to acknowledge the smug looks they all gave him. Still, he knew that color burned in his pale face in rage that they would treat him so, he, who had just two days before been one of the most admired new Death Eaters, the most promising of the recently Marked. He hated them all, hated them for how easily they could turn on him. He didn't realize that if he had looked at them, looked into their cruel eyes, that behind the smug exterior would have burned terror that it would be one of them, their families, next.

--You know you've got everybody fooled--

That's what he would have seen in most of them, anyway. There were a few who were so confident in themselves that they didn't care. Pansy had spotted him when he entered and was now making her way over. He saw her coming, a sway in her hips and hair unmoving as it had been styled into straight blond submission.

--Look here she comes now--

The pink frills of her robes flounced as she moved, almost but not quite enough to overwhelm her ample bosom where it flowed over a low cut, tight neckline. A smile he had once thought seductive curled her bubble-gum pink lips as she saw him look at her, just as all the others still looked at her.

--Bow down and stare in wonder--

"Draco, my darling," she purred as she fitted her arm snugly around his waist. She ignored how his body stiffened and pulled away at her touch, staying with him as he continued to his room. Pale brown eyes, the color of poisoned honey, gleamed at him from beneath magic-enhanced lashes.

--Oh, how we love you--

"You gave me a bit of a fright, disappearing all day like that," she continued. "Some thought you might have run to that traitor," and she laughed, like the situation was just too funny for words. Her long, pink nails dug into his side, just a little.

--No flaws when you're pretending--

Draco looked at her, knowing his face was frozen in harsh lines as he asked, "And who would be stupid enough to voice an opinion like that, Pansy?" They had reached the hall that led to the older boys' rooms.

Something flicked behind those sickly sweet eyes, a certain fall of eyelashes. "Oh, Draco, you know I don't like to point fingers." And she smiled up at him, completely aware that he knew she loved to point fingers. "It doesn't matter, we both know that your loyalty is to the Dark Lord." She cuddled in closer to his side as they neared his room.

"I don't know how anyone could be dumb enough to betray Him like that. Really, you should have been there, darling, it was an amazing thing to see." She watched him as she rambled on about the demise of those he cared most for, watching for any cracks in his Malfoy veneer. And she knew him well enough to see them, to enjoy the tightness at the corners of his mouth, his eyes. His control was good enough that he didn't fall to his knees and start screaming, or hit her and force her to stop… but not by much. It was through focussing on the thought that he was almost to his room, almost away, that he held on.

But, now, I know she
never was and never will be--

He stopped outside his room, one hand on the door handle as he turned to tell Pansy good night, that he was turning in early. Before he could say it, though, she had curled her body in against his, pushing him back against the door. She draped her arms over his shoulders, one hand playing in his hair where it grew at the base of his neck. It gave him a marvelous view of her chest if he cared to look down to where it was pressed against his own. He could feel that her nipples were already tight against him, but instead of the usual excitement and fire that accompanied that realization, all he felt was a cold rage in the pit of his stomach.

-- You don't know how you've betrayed me--

Pansy either ignored the look on his face or somehow didn't see it. "Aren't you going to invite me in, Draco?" She laid a tiny kiss on his neck, pink tongue flicking out to taste the skin there.

He shivered, but not for the reason she thought. "I'm tired, Pansy. Not tonight." He fought to keep his voice cool and quiet.

She smiled again, the one that said she'd ride you hard and put you up wet, then eat you afterwards without ever changing expressions. "That's what you said a few days ago, Draco, but I convinced you otherwise."

"Things are a little different today than they were a few days ago, Pansy." He was very proud of himself for not spitting the words into that smiling face.

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, Draco, I know it's awful, that you ended up… involved with all those traitors, but really, we all know that you had nothing to do with any of it. We understand it's not your fault. No one is holding you responsible." She smiled, seemingly sure that she'd reassured him. She began to lightly trace a pattern over his shoulders with her nails. "Come on, Draco, you know it'll make you feel better… I'll even let you top, even though it's my turn… I'll do whatever you want, be your perfect little bottom for the night. I'll enjoy that almost as much as I would getting to put you in chains for the night. We both know how good you are. You'll see, the… exercise will make you feel better. Please, Draco." She pouted prettily up at him, making her normally thin lips look full, sure of herself as always.

She thinks I'm… what, embarrassed! She does, she thinks I'm embarrassed to have been connected to people who've gotten in trouble with the Dark Lord!

Draco smiled back down at Pansy, but she must not have been paying attention, or she'd have expected from that smile what came next. He grabbed both her wrists, his hands easily encircling each. She just smiled, excitement flickering through her eyes…

"Pansy…" he whispered, leaning his face in towards her.

She pushed herself against him, not trying to pull her wrists away. She was practically purring. She didn't realize, yet, that this pain wasn't the beginning of foreplay, not this time.

--And somehow you've got everybody fooled--

"Pansy…"

"Yes, Draco?" she whispered back, her eyes drifting closed as his face brushed the side of hers, his breath against her ear.

He gripped her wrists tighter then, crushing, until she looked at him with anger and hurt in her eyes, finally realizing this wasn't the beginning of the night's games.

"You can go find someone else to be your bottom, or top, or whatever else you have in mind, because IAMTIRED." With that he shoved her away from himself, hard enough that her head smacked into the wall across from them. He pulled his wand from his robe pocket, just in case Pansy had any ideas. She could be a vindictive bitch.

If she had been practically purring before, now she was practically growling. Her face was contorted in lines of rage as she snarled, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm not interested, tonight, Pansy. Go ply your wares somewhere else," he snarled right back. Color was riding high in his cheeks again, but this time it was the comforting heat of rage. This, this anger, was familiar. It was good, an old and steadfast friend. So much easier to handle than grief.

"Goddamn you, Draco Malfoy!" she shrieked. "You have no right to treat me like some mudblood whore!"

He smiled, and knew his eyes were the color of dark clouds ready to rain. "Then maybe you shouldn't act like one, Pansy, dearest."

Her breath whistled in between her teeth. She drew her wand, then, long and thin between her immaculately kept fingers. He didn't know what she would have said, though, what spell she would have cast. He rushed her as soon as he saw the move.

Draco held her hand pinned against the wall, leaning all his weight against it, slowly crushing the bones and tendons. She made a surprised sound, then brought her other hand up to his face, trying to claw out his eyes. She got in a good scratch and he grunted before burying his face in between their shoulders, where her long nails couldn't reach him. Instead, she started to grasp for the back of his neck, under his robes, as if she'd tear the flesh away from his spine.

He ground into her hand harder, then, and heard something snap, something thick and wet. She jerked against him, then her body went limp. He leaned back, still holding her hand, though not crushing now, and saw she hadn't passed out. She was fighting a small pained sound in her throat, and glaring at him fiercely. Her pink lips and pale brown eyes were set in lines of rage, now, instead of lines of seduction. Something in him found that more appealing.

--Without the mask where will you hide—

"Are you done?"

Her lip curled, but she answered calmly enough, "I'm done."

He backed away from her, coming to stand in front of his door. He tried for neutral, arms crossed over his chest, though an image of crushing her throat like he had her hand was playing in his head.

Pansy cradled her hand in the other, pulled up against her chest. She had already slipped her wand back in a pocket, having retrieved it from the floor where it had fallen. Her voice smoldered as she said, "You've never hurt me this bad outside of the bedroom games before, Draco. I wouldn't have thought you had it in you, to hurt someone when they weren't begging for it."

She was finally admitting she doubted him as a Death Eater. He ignored the fact that he'd been doubting much the same thing, earlier. It was all nicely ignored under the rage. The rage comforted him, masked everything he'd had to take over the years, and just today, from his Aunt Bellatrix to Pansy. "I'm done with games, Pansy. It's your own fault if you were too stupid to think I didn't have it in me to actually hurt you." He smirked at her. "And, as I recall, you were begging for it just a second ago."

She spit at him then. It landed near his dragon hide boots, never actually reaching him.
"I hate you, Draco. See if you ever have me in your bed again!" She turned, spine rigid as she walked away.

"And just a second ago you were telling me how good I am! Don't worry, Pansy, I'm sure you can find others to fill your voracious appetites! There's always someone willing!" he yelled at her departing back.

She stiffened, and said over her shoulder, almost quietly after all the shouts, "And how many will be willing to touch the son of Lucius Malfoy, now that he's been executed as a failure? The son of Narcissa Malfoy, who spent the last twenty-four hours being tortured by her own sister for her crimes, and is even now dead or mad? The godson of Severus Snape, who is going to spend a long time at the Dark Lord's tender mercies for his traitorous actions? Poor, poor Draco Malfoy… you're no good to anyone, now. You're just another orphan, whose soul belongs to the Dark Lord. No one will ever want you again."

With that, she walked away.

--Can't find yourself--

He watched her go. For once, he had nothing to say, and instead just stood, and shook.

--Lost in your lie--

He didn't remember entering his room, but found himself inside his chambers, curled once again on the floor with his back against the door. It was as if he could block out Pansy's voice, block out what she'd said, block out the sting of truth in her words.

He was Draco Malfoy, he was rich and pureblood, and the most promising of the young Death Eaters.

And he was no good to anyone, not now. Maybe he never had been.

--I know the truth now--

Somehow, that thought hurt worst of all. He hated himself for it, that in the midst of it all, it was the thought of who he was now, what he was now, that hurt him most. He hid his face in his hands, then jerked them away in surprise. They came away wet. He touched his cheeks, found cold, salty tears falling in twin rivers down his face.

This was what finally made Draco Malfoy cry.

--I know who you are--

And he had thought he could hurt no more. But with the realization that yes, indeed, he was crying, it all seemed to break loose, and he cried for what he was, and what he'd been, and everyone he had lost. He didn't scream and rage, this time, just cried quietly into his robes, wishing for all the pain to end, to feel nothing, or at least for the anger which he'd gripped so tightly just moments ago. Anything but this shattering inside him.

He stood in a sudden push of pain, found himself on his feet in front of the mirror on his wall. Staring at himself, all he saw was a pale child who had overestimated himself for a long time now. He leaned into it, huge gray eyes staring into the polished surfaced, as if somewhere in the reflection of his tear-stained face the answers lay. The mirror gave him nothing. His hand came up to touch it, feel it's cold reality against his skin, and then he was smashing it, breaking it, punching his own face into thousands of fragile pieces. He wasn't even sure why, but he derived a sense of satisfaction from the silver shards that now lay around him, from the blood that was steadily pouring out of his hand to spatter red drops around him too. Now, blood and sharp edges surrounded him, and it seemed oddly appropriate that it all threw back tiny images of himself.

--And I don't love you anymore--

He even liked the pain in his hand, the evidence that his body could bleed just as well as his heart. Though it was a cleaner pain, and not as long lasting. Something about soul-deep pain seemed to have a more tenacious grip. The ragged depression was reaching back up through the manic haze that had taken him, that had sheltered him for a bursting moment.

It forced him to look at what he'd done through dispassionate eyes rather than satisfied ones. He groaned as he realized that he'd just shattered his own mirror, that he'd enjoyed cutting up his own hand, and that he was still crying. Even that act had not been able to stop the tears once they had started.

It seemed that once one became a sniveling mess, one remained there. Even if that one was Draco Malfoy.

No. No, Draco Malfoy was many things, he even knew he had many faults (though he did not find the same ones others would have found), but he was not someone who would hide in his rooms and cry. He was, and always would be, the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy… he refused to be a crying boy hiding in his room. It was not allowed. He was Draco Malfoy.

With that, he found the anger again. The anger that someone could do this to him, could take away everything he was, that in one single day his whole world could be changed so drastically.

--It never was and never will be--

And who was it that could do this to him? Of course Voldemort had done it, had been the one to strike the blows… but who had caused the blows to be struck?

It was not his enemy. It was not Harry Potter, whom he'd long despised… it was not even a competitor. It was one he had revered.

It was Severus Snape. He had not brought this on himself. Draco Malfoy had been brought low by someone he considered one of his closest allies, someone who had been a protector and friend for years.

Someone who had lived a lie for all those same years.

--You're not real and you can't save me--

Draco Malfoy set about the destruction of his room. The fine velvet chairs were smashed into the walls, the expensive tapestries thrown into the fire. Blood was getting all over the carpet as he overturned the wardrobe, sending all those expensive clothes to the floor. He snatched them from where they lay and tossed them into the fire as well. Tears were still falling thick and fast down his face, and he hated them. He picked up a shard of the mirror and began slashing into the meat of the down comforter his mother had given him, sending a riot of feathers into the air as he dug for the mattress.

He decided, in the midst of it, that he would see Severus Snape. He wanted him to see what he'd done to Draco, to feel any guilt that might be left in him. To see where he had brought him, from where he'd been.

The one thing that was circling in his head, the thought he kept coming back to, was an echo of his fathers voice. His father telling him to be strong, to be a Malfoy.

Malfoys never cried.

--Somehow now you're everybody's fool--

And yet, the tears continued to pour down Draco Malfoy's face as he tore up the worldly evidence of his life. Something inside him was well and truly broken.

But Malfoys never, ever cried.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Huh, well… that went to some darker places than I did originally intended. I didn't realize until I was writing it that Pansy and Draco were into some extreme BDSM. But it makes sense, if you ask me. I also expected to have covered much more plot ground in this chapter… but Draco wanted the airtime for his angst, and then suddenly Bellatrix and Pansy appeared, so what are you going to do? What Slytherins want, Slytherins get. And if you don't know what the hell they were talking about there, Pansy and Draco, then either you're a) too young to be reading this fanfic or b) are going to need to ask a few questions to understand things as they go on… remember, this is going to be Draco/Hermione, and if Draco is into BDSM… catch my drift? This will reoccur, but in the setting of yippeee!sex rather than gerrrr!nosex. So tell me if I need to work in more explanation as I go along. Okay, I just didn't want anyone to say I didn't warn them. I promise, nothing ultra-squicky (like someone enjoying having their hands crushed… I can't see Hermione being okay with that extreme. I think she'd be majorly squicked by what has happened in the last two chapters, and since many of the upcoming chapters will be in her point of view, we can't have any of those shenanigans!)

Okay, people, I graduate high school tomorrow… reviews are an accepted gift form! Brownie points to whoever guesses upcoming songs, as last time…. Hint of the day: another evanescence song, and again from the point of view of one Draco Malfoy. No worries, the chapter after that should see the introduction of our canon main characters, starting with Hermione! Yippee, we're progressing!