Some time ago…

-----

It was just after graduation, and though they had been expecting it, it still came as a surprise. The wards had crumbled half-way through Hermione's speech, the words of hope to her fellow graduates dying on her lips as she crumpled, the green light of Voldemort's curse reflected on the white masks behind him.

Ron lost it.

The wizarding parents, students and teachers who had been present at the graduation leapt into action, their wands flying from pockets, robes and purses while the parent's of the muggle-born fled and fell.

The grass that had been yellowing and prickly rose from the ground to bind the legs and arms of Death Eaters at Neville's command, while the bleachers rose up like horses at McGonagall's.

Draco, despite Harry's reluctance to believe the fact that he had switched sides, stood over his Father's body for only a moment before moving on, his wand still warm from the unforgivable it had cast.

It was Peter Pettigrew who had the misfortune of stumbling across his grief stricken former master, the body of Hermione cooling in his desperate arms. Ron didn't even bother with his wand when he tore his former Pet's hand off. The useless slab of silver made a fine bludgeoning tool.

It was over almost as quickly as it had begun. No time for climax, or even a chance to catch one's breath. Voldemort lay dead. His body smoking black and skin peeling grey in the midday sun, but it wasn't Harry who stood over the dessicated corpse. In fact, Harry was no where to be seen, only his glasses were there, broken and twisted in pale hands as Draco looked over the gathering crowd. His wand had been neatly broken into three pieces, clutched in his opposite hand, as blood started to pool from his other where the broken glass cut into it.

With the wards broken, and their master dead, the remaining Death-Eaters quickly dissaparated. And before question's could be asked, so did Draco.

-----