A/N: Greetings! I am dreadfully sorry this chapter took so long to complete! It's the second to last chapter! OmG!
This chapter is dedicated to every one who reads Ibysl, the story wouldn't have gotten as far as it has with out all the wonderful support from the reviewers, thank you all so much!
Also thanks to Keri! What would I do with out you!
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At breakfast the next morning, between Hermione and Ron (The Gryffindor fans and turned grabby) Harry nearly snorted omelette out his nose at a series of jokes Ron was sharing with him. Though none of them mentioned Harry sneaking into Gryffindor early that morning, or the on stage kiss Harry had been dared to share with Malfoy. Life with the Gryffindors was starting to become normal again.
"Okay! Harry! Why do Penguins carry fish in their beaks?" Ron asked, smiling
"I've got no idea. Why do penguins carry fish in their beaks?"
"Because they haven't got any pockets."
Harry and Hermione's laughter was silenced by the morning post arrived.
Pandemonium erupted when people opened the Daily Prophet.
"Death Eaters on the move!"
"Duff Town! That's close to Hogsmeade!"
Harry sunk into his chair; Hermione gave him a whack around the head for brooding.
"You can't expect the war to be easy!" she said finishing her toast. "You need to keep spirits up, being the pop idol that you are!"
Harry groaned.
"And you're got Charms first, then Care of Magical Creatures, and you're spending your lunch with the Slytherins to keep up appearances, then after Divination in the afternoon, you're going straight to the empty class room on the fourth floor, where you are meeting Malfoy for practice of your new song. Then dinner, then after dinner homework and bed," Hermione said, collecting her bag.
"Should I be afraid that you have memorized my time table?" Harry asked blankly.
"I'm your P.A, Harry, it's my job!" said Hermione.
"What?" Harry asked, confused. "I have a P.A?"
"Yep, me," Hermione smiled. "Pansy says every singer needs a P.A."
"Pansy can shove it up her…" Harry started.
"Harry, is that really the way to talk about your friends?" Hermione warned.
Harry felt like his brain was about to implode. "You've changed your tune."
"That reminds me, Malfoy gave me some lyrics for you to look over," she opened her bag and handed Harry a folding piece of parchment.
Harry read the paper and blushed. "Did you read these?" he demanded.
"No, why?" asked Hermione suspiciously.
"No reason," Harry snapped, grabbing his bag and leaving quickly for Charms.
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Harry didn't have a chance to talk to Draco until Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid was giving a demonstration of the breeding habits of the common Irish pixie, which held the rest of the class's attention religiously.
"What did you think you were doing giving those lyrics to Hermione? Lucky for you she didn't read them!" Harry whispered, outraged.
Draco smirked and ran his fingers over the back of Harry's hand. "Don't lie-- I know you found it charming."
"Hermione Granger passing me a piece parchment that contains a song called 'Harry Potter likes naked boys' is not practically charming!"
"Ah, but it's the truth!" smirked Draco.
"No, it's not," Harry smiled coyly.
"Please don't tell me you're going to start preaching about being straight again," Draco sighed.
"I was going to say I only like seeing one boy naked," Harry laughed.
"Who?" asked Draco, shocked. "Its not Terry Boot is it? Because I heard he likes it rough!"
"I was talking about you!" Harry cried, purposely knocking shoulders with Draco.
Draco smiled, then his attention was suddenly drawn to Hagrid, who was demonstrating the pixie penetrating thrust.
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Harry was surprised to be called out of Divination, even more surprised the summons had came from a certain potion master.
"Potter," Snape said, his voice like a chuck of dripping pig's fat. "Voldemort's troops are on the move again".
"I know, sir," said Harry briskly.
"Dumbledore is at the Ministry with Fudge, he wanted me to warn you that the Death Eaters could be here by night fall."
"Night fall!" Harry declared, shocked. "Why isn't he here?"
"You can't always stand behind Dumbledore, Potter!" Snape said angrily.
Harry muttered angrily. "Is there anything else I need to know?"
"The Great Hall will be empty after tea if you want to practice your so called music in there after dinner."
Harry nodded.
"Oh, and remember you have a Potions assignment due tomorrow."
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Harry skipped the rest of Divination and waited in the empty class room he was suppose to be meeting Draco in. When Draco did walk in half and hour later, wearing jeans and a Sex Pistols t-shirt, Harry caught his breath. He really didn't have enough time.
"Hey," Draco greeted, taking a seat by Harry.
Harry didn't bother with greetings and just attached him self to Draco's lips.
After five minutes of molesting each other Harry jumped back quickly. "Draco, I'm really sorry, but I've got to go."
"Where are you going?" asked Draco with swollen lips.
"There are just a couple of things I need to do," Harry said somberly.
"Harry what's wrong?" asked Draco, concerned.
Harry looked distractedly at the door. "Draco I just… I need to go".
"Stop acting all mysterious and tell me what's going on!" Draco demanded.
Harry hugged Draco tightly, "Don't worry, Cheeky," he said jadedly.
Harry left, but Draco didn't fail to notice the envelope Harry had snuck into his pocket.
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Draco Malfoy burst into the Slytherin 6th year boy's dormitory. Goyle and Blaise looked up at him quizzically and it took all of Draco's self discipline not to break out in tears.
"What's got you all flustered? You and Harry got a bit to close for comfit?" Blaise asked.
"Voldemort's coming to Hogwarts!" Draco breathed heavily, having ran to the dormitory.
"Funny," Goyle said sarcasticly. "Just like the time you said that gravity was just a myth and Blaise decided to wander off the Astronomy Tower."
Draco thrust a piece of parchment into Goyle's hands. It had written, in Harry's messy script, on the front, 'Do not read till the 8th of December.'
"That's tomorrow," Goyle said logically. "You shouldn't of read it."
"For pities sake, just read it!" Draco cried while pacing the room.
Blaise came and read the document over Goyle shoulder. "This seems a bit personalm" he stated. Draco glared at him, in a way that said 'Fuck up and read.'
Dear Draco,
I've never written a love letter before. If you could call this a love letter, I've received a lot of them (don't roll your eyes at me sir) and they all started with the small sort of sappy title: Beloved, dearest, my beautiful. I thought dear was a nice classic, simple yet elegant; a bit like us, me so simple and you so elegant. Like you hair, and your smile, and your chin. And those elegant trousers you purposely wear, because you like to see me get frustrated when it comes to undoing them. And the way you walk and the elegant way you have of slipping your hand into mine, or on my thigh, or on the small of my back. And how your teeth ever so elegantly bite at your lip when you pout, or when you're sad or when you concentrate.
I love it when you concentrate. Especially on me, or your music, or on nothing at all, you just sit there and gaze into space, concentrating on breathing and living and kissing me.
I know you know, and you know I'm putting it off, if that's possible, it will be morning now I suppose, and the owls will be swooping over the grounds in the fresh winter air, where the sun has tainted the snow red with its rising face, or maybe I tainted in red. I don't think dead people can put things off can they, well I am. I know you're angry at me, or you might be indifferent. Now you're angrier because you think I don't care when I do, I am sorry. We had our entire future and I screwed it up. I could of imagine us, retired rock stars, living in some old villa, drinking red wine at eleven and you wearing your elegant pants.
I should have told you about Snape and Dumbledore's plan, but I didn't want you to be hurt. It was the only way; too many people would die if we put it off any longer.
I'm meeting him, a finale battle type of thing, its weird isn't it, if I lose I'm terribly sorry, shit happens. Yes I know that's the understatement of the century. You have to run away, go live with a tribe of Maoris and eat kumara for the rest of your life, or join the dark side. I wouldn't mind really, as long as you're not hurt. Anyway I'm meeting him, and I am going to try and kill him, or die trying, its sounds so dramatic, really its not. Its just death. Like turning off a light or driving off a cliff. I'll watch you when I'm dead. I'm watching you right now, if I'm dead, though I might live, wouldn't that be a hoot.
Can you please tell Hermione and Ron that I love them, and that I'm sorry I wasn't able to say goodbye, tell Blaise that he is the most delightful idiot I've ever meet, tell Pansy that she's the best vagina sex I've ever had and tell Goyle that's I regret not bedding him because he's an awesome chap. Inform Remus that's he been like a father to me, and tell Hagrid that he was a life saver.
Now you. Don't pine for me, don't mourn for me, but I do want you to play for me, live your life and play your music. Our music.
Harry.
"Shit," said Goyle, holding the letter limply.
Draco was pacing quickly looking quite hysteric. "We have to go after him, we have to find him!"
"How did you get this?" Blaise asked, worried.
"He slipped into my pocket 20 minutes ago. I ran straight here. We have to do something!"
"There isn't much we can do," Goyle said sadly. "Snape and Dumbledore obviously know about it, they wouldn't put Harry in that kind of danger if they weren't absolutely sure Harry could deal with it."
"How do we know Snape isn't secretly evil and he's tricked us all!"
"Dumbledore isn't that dumb," Goyle said rationally.
"I wouldn't be surprised, he is as mad as a one footed giant."
"Watch it," Blaise warned.
"Why don't we split up and search for him," said Goyle. "And I think you better go tell Granger and Weasley, they can help us search."
"Goyle and I will go get Pansy, and you dash up to Gryffindor and find Weasley. We will meet you in the Entrance Hall."
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"WEASLEY! GRANGER! OPEN UP!" Draco Malfoy shouted as he banged on the Fat Lady.
A scared looking fourth year opened the common room. She squealed. "Oh my God! It's Draco Malfoy from Ostentatious by Nature! Can I have your autograph?"
"Piss off," Draco growled as he pushed his way into the Common Room. He tore through the Common Room, and up the stairs he remembered the boy's dormitory to be in. he burst into the 6th year's room and covered his eyes immediately.
"For Merlin's sake!" he cried angrily at Hermione and Ron who were making out on Ronald's bed. "That's disgusting, isn't there a law against bestiality?"
"Shut up Malfoy!" Ron cried. "Harry's not here, so piss off!"
"That's why I'm here," Draco said hastily. "Harry's gone missing, he's gone after Voldemort."
Ron looked skeptical. "How do you know? He would have told us if he was going to fight Voldemort."
"He wrote me a letter. It's a plan of Dumbledore and Snape's," Draco said anxiously.
"Why should we believe you?" Ron scoffed.
"If it was a plan of Dumbledore's we know better than to be involved," Hermione said stiffly. "Its always best to keet out of Order business."
"You're Gryffindors," Draco said with gritted teeth. "Aren't you meant to love unplanned rescue missions?"
"Look!" said Hermione angrily. "I can show you where Harry is." She marched angrily over to Harry's trunk and rustled around, throwing unwashed clothes onto the floor. She pulled out a thick piece of parchment and stuffed it into Draco's hands.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," she said heatedly, pointing her wand at the page. Draco was stunned to see a map of Hogwarts.
"Look," she said, pointing to the Great Hall. "Harry's sitting in there, properly waiting for band practice."
Draco saw that Hermione was quite right. A little dot labeled Harry Potter was sitting in the Great Hall all by himself.
"He's meeting You Know Who in the Great Hall!" Draco cried. He grabbed the map and skittered out the door.
Hermione turned back to Ron "Where were we?" she purred.
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"He's in the Great-fucking-Hall!" Draco Malfoy puffed as he ran into Goyle and Blaise in the entrance hall.
"Where are Granger and Weasley?" Goyle wheezed as they ran off toward the hall.
"Off sucking face, where's Pansy?"
"We decided not to go get her," Blaise said flatly.
Draco just nodded.
They stopped out side the big wooden doors that lead into the Great Hall. Draco didn't even take a second to breathe, he angrily threw open the doors. And marched in.
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Harry sat in the Great Hall, the only light coming from the moon. Which, as Harry thought, was quite ridiculous. Though at this moment, Harry thought many things were ridiculous. Like how all he wanted to do in the world was sneak into Slytherin and give Draco Malfoy a cuddle. Or like how he was sitting in the dark waiting for Voldemort. That was quite ridiculous.
Harry's fingers skimmed over the metal strings of his guitar. Metallic sounds echoed around the empty room. Harry remembered how this place look a few weeks ago, the crowd of student screaming for his music; his voice, not a scar or a boy who lived. But a rock star. Harry's fingers skimmed over the metal strings of his guitar. He remembered how this place looked when he first arrived here when he was eleven. How the candles and the stars shone, and Dumbledore wore robes of vivid purple. Harry's fingers skimmed over the metal strings of guitar. It had been Sirius's, before he died.
The ceiling only portrayed the half crescent moon and a few bright star constellations. Sirius was bright, brighter then normal. Harry had gotten quite used to being able to spot the Dog Star.
Harry heard foot steps in the out side the Great Hall. His internal monologue nearly peed its pants. This is it. Hello Voldemort, hello death.
"Harry Potter, you little fucker!" roared an irate Draco Malfoy. "How dare you do that!"
"You guys need to get out of here," cried Harry desperately.
"Don't give me that shit Potter!" Draco cried, at the edge of breaking down. "You don't have to do this, someone else can fight him, you're mine and you're not going to sacrifice yourself for a stupid cause!"
"Draco, this is important!" cried Harry. "If I don't do this now thousands will die! If I can prevent that I will!"
Blaise and Goyle looked like their parents were arguing.
"You wouldn't of saved me," Draco whispered. "People would love you in your glorified death." Every syllable shook with desperate anger. "But what about me, what would I do then, continued to act like I hate you, like I wanted you dead, laugh at your funeral, for I outlived Harry Potter, the boy who's meant to fucking live."
"Draco, please, you know I have to do this."
Draco crossed his arms and left of a terrible shiver. "I know you do, like I know I'm being a stupid bastard, but Harry,"--his voice cracked--"I can't just let you go like this. Voldemort will fucking kill you, I've seen his power."
"Draco, please," Harry begged. "You all have to leave, I don't want you to be involved in this."
"Tough luck, Harry dear," Blaise chirped he took a seat on the teachers table and magicalised his bass guitar.
"Piss off, Blaise, I don't want you lot to be involved either. It's my fight, he killed my parents."
"Don't be daft, Harry." Goyle said, taking a seat next to Blaise. "Do you think You-Know-Who will turn up without his band?"
"He means Death Eaters," Blaise said, unnecessarily.
"Please leave; I don't want you guys hurt!" Harry said desperately.
"Fuck off, Harry," Goyle said good naturedly as he removed his drum sticks from his bag.
Harry watched Draco-- his back elegantly leaning slightly, his arms crossed. His grey eyes peered at Harry from his curtain of paler then gold fringe.
"Don't look at me like and injured kitten, Harry. All the romantic love letters in the world can't drag me away from you." He took a seat next to Harry on the table.
Harry smiled weakly. "Serves me right for getting romantically involved with a Slytherin."
Draco laughed and threw his arm lazily over Harry shoulder, "Us Slytherines are highly protective Harry, I'm sure you've noticed".
"Hey I've created a bridge for our new song!" Draco remembered, unshrinking his guitar he carried every where in his pocket.
"Do you really think now is the right time?" Asked Harry raising an eyebrow.
"Why do you want to make sweet love to me before we die?" Draco asked.
Harry smiled coyly.
"Don't you dare!" warned Goyle.
"Lets hear it then" Blaise laughed.
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Half a dozen tall men, cloaked in black, walked silently up a long gravel road. A castle loomed over head, few lights still flickered on, making the castle look like a jack o lantern in the cold night sky. All the men had on pale white masks that glowed ghostly in the night. Soft winds whipped at their cloaks, making them all look like shadowy ghosts.
The sneaked up into the castle's grand foyer, a few candles still flickered. The leader of the masked we walked in boldly.
"They keep their side of the deal," he hissed, red eyes peeking out of the mask. "I doubt Dumbledore is dumb enough to try and stop us anyway. The Order wouldn't interfere; they still hold their unrealistic fantasies about Potter defeating me."
"They might all be waiting for us in the Great Hall my Lord," whispered the masked figure next to him that was Lucius Malfoy.
"Can you hear that?" cried a short fat man who sounded like a rat. "There is music coming from the Great Hall!"
The group of Death Eaters leaned against the huge doors leading into the Great Hall. They listened carefully to the loud, throbbing bass; the frenzied drums and the two guitars that harmonized perfectly together.
"Wands out!" barked Voldemort.
"Shouldn't we wait for reinforcements?" asked Lucius nervously.
"Its only a couple of school children with instruments, Lucius. Not afraid, are we?"
"Its just, my Lord, we have underestimated Harry Potter before?"
"Open the doors!" barked Voldemort, ignoring Lucius.
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Harry sang, loud around the empty hall, his voice raw and on edge. His black eye liner he was now so accustomed to wear was smudged under his eyes. Draco Malfoy's fingers tabbed into some unknown source of magic that made his pale fingers dance like lightening over his guitar strings, his grey eyes staring at Harry. Blaise Zabini smirked over his bass, each strum of his fingers echoed like passion filled nights as he licked his bottom lip. Goyle beat the white drums like their faces were the same as the cold moon that was glaring at them.
"This is not good bye!" Harry yelled. "This is just a kiss before you die!"
The song finished and the band all let their instruments hang, their breathing heavy from playing with so much spirit.
A strong clap started from the back of the hall. The band's heads snapped to look at the small group of men dressed in black standing the other end of the hall. One figure was without a mask; his paler than white skin glowed; his red eyes burned.
"Well done, Harry!" he cried. "You truly were a talented young man."
"Were?" Harry asked, stepping out in front of the band. Slowly he walked up to face Voldemort, who did the same.
"Don't except to live much longer, Potter. You can't always escape my grasp."
Draco, who Harry didn't realize was right by his side, snorted.
"Oh, and by the looks of it, our Harry has some new friends." Voldemort glanced at Blaise and Goyle who were on Harry's right, and Draco who was on his left and had to take a second glance. "It seems we have some blood traitors in our midst."
Blaise pretended to look thoughtful. "Wait a minute, aren't you a half blood? Shouldn't we be the ones beating you up for being a mog?"
Voldemort looked at Blaise disdainfully. "Your father will hear of this."
Blaise laughed openly. "Ohh, poor lord Voldemort's going to tell on me 'cos I called him names! Boo hoo!"
Voldemort hissed at Blaise.
"Draco, I demand you step over here at once!" Lucius roared.
"Fuck off," Draco snapped.
"Don't tell me you weren't lying when you told me you believed yourself in love with Harry Potter! You are a foolish boy."
"Fuck off," Draco repeated. "Who the fuck do you think you fucking are?"
"And who do you think you are using that sort of language?"
"Fuck off," Draco growled again, quite angry.
"So you like boys, do you, Harry?" asked Voldemort, his wand in his hand.
Harry's wand was also in his hand.
"Avada Kedavra!" shouted Voldemort before Harry had registered what was going on.
Draco dragged Harry to the ground and sent a Furnunculus at the nearest Death Eater.
Goyle and Blaise both had started dueling numerous Death Eaters at once. Draco kissed Harry hard on the lips before jumping up to start dueling with Peter Pettigrew.
Harry faced Voldemort again, who was hissing angrily. Voldemort cast an Immobulus spell which Harry dodged, returning an Incarcerous charm.
Draco, who by what Harry could tell, had just killed Peter Pettigrew, was standing behind Voldemort. He had his guitar in his hands-- he held it above his head and brought it crashing down on Voldemort's head, who crunched over by the surprise of having a guitar smashed over his head. Harry, whose right opportunity had finally arrived, held his wand high.
"Avada Kedavra," Harry cried, his mother, father and Sirius flashed in his mind, and his life with Draco beckoned in the future.
Voldemort's dead body hit the floor.
Harry really wasn't sure what happened after that. He remembered the Death Eaters fleeing, and Draco's hands being covered in Peter's blood as he carried Harry's exhausted body to the hospital wing. Harry also remembered Draco had tears leaking from his beautiful grey eyes. And though he assured Harry he wasn't going to die, Harry felt so very tired.