THE SEVEN SINS


CHAPTER 15: DEATH: LETUM II

It is love, not reason, that is stronger than death. –Thomas Mann

Red eyes stared at him, a sneer stretched across the pallid face.

He realised that he'd been staring at the transformation so hard that he actually hadn't taken anything in. Slowly, steadily, he looked around him.

There were the seven; the seven who they had thought been possessed the last few weeks. Hermione, Dean, Pansy, Binns. Pomfrey, Ginny and Mrs. Norris. All here.

Each one was standing, face cocked awkwardly up to the ceiling, arms hanging straight by their side. Red glowing circles surrounded each of them, while their eyes glowed their assigned colour. Red, yellow, orange. Green, blue, indigo and violet. They were all there.

For a moment, Harry stood there in sickly awe. Until he noticed what was in the centre of those he'd been looking upon.

Blond hair glinted in the centre of the circle.

"Draco!"

He headed towards his boyfriend hurriedly. And was stopped by the lifting of two silver eyes.

Two blank silver eyes.

Two blank silver eyes that glowed red.

He stepped back. "Draco," he whispered, and he hated how his voice sounded so forlorn. Like a puppy that had been left in the rain by its owner. Realising just how much he had come to rely on Draco and his smiles, the secret ones made just for him.

Even the comforting strokes on his hair when he needed that nap, and the warmth of his lap as he drifted off to sleep.

And now this very person was standing opposite him, draped in a black cloak and holding a scythe in his hand, the very image of Death personified.

A chuckle resounded in the room, and Harry flipped his head in its direction. Voldemort stood, looking down upon him. "So, Harry, do you like how I've dressed your boyfriend?" He laughed darkly. "It's a rather…unique costume I admit, but I believe it suits his role perfectly."

"What have you done to him?" Harry said fiercely. "How have you made him like this?"

Voldemort waved his fingers about, and immediately Draco advanced towards him, like a puppet on strings. "Why, I have done nothing. I have only twisted his desires." He grinned, a twisted grin.

For a moment, Harry froze, breathing restricted by the clamp hold on his heart and his lungs. Then he breathed again, silently placing his trust into Draco, placing his love into Draco.

"No, that's not Draco," he said softly, and both Voldemort and Draco froze. Seeing this, Harry frantically started begging.

"Draco? Is that you? Draco, break out of it for me, break out of the monster for me…"

Voldemort laughed, and Harry turned around, wand raised in his hand. "It is useless –he will only listen to me. Even your pathetic feelings for him cannot persuade him."

Voldemort sat back down; on a throne he'd waved out of thin dark smoke, smiling perversely, as if enjoying a particularly funny show. "Isn't it hilarious?" he said, drawling out the words as Draco did, except it was filled with oozing ominous poison, and Harry hated it, hated how it crept down his veins and filled them with dread. "You see," he said in an explanatory tone, "either you get killed by your own lover, or you kill him to save yourself. And even if I lose against you, I will have won…because you will not be able to survive." Harry stared at him, the dread in his blood turning into fear.

Then the smirk turned into a contented smile and Voldemort rolled his fingers into a gentle, lax fist.

"Kill him."

Draco took a step forward. Harry, terrified, stepped backwards, and turned back, trying to run towards the door, trying to run out of the circle. And when he found that he couldn't escape, he tried to break out, tried to escape, but the circle would only shine red, filled with runes and old spells that linked to form a wall against him.

Step.

Desperately he banged against the red wall with his fists, ignoring the humiliating sound of Voldemort's snickers against his ears.

Step.

His eyes were growing wild now, growing dilated with arresting fear that clawed against him.

Step.

And the footsteps were edging towards him so he turned, already knowing what to do. Closing his eyes, he waited until Draco came.

Ignoring the Prophesy for now. Ignoring everything. Focussing only on Draco.

Voldemort had stopped laughing, he knew, and red eyes were focused on him, darkening his back with their gaze.

The scythe lifted, ready to strike, and he closed his eyes, giving himself a moment of collection, of silent goodbyes. And the fear was trying to take over his heart but he wouldn't let it, because he wanted Draco to remember that he had been brave, and that to the last minute he had never regretted what he had done.

Hearing the scythe start to come down upon him, he opened his eyes and looked straight into silver. Moss green shining a little in tears. Not tears of fear, but tears of sadness. Sadness of never seeing Draco again, and love, love for the young man standing in front of him.

"I love you."

The scythe stopped.

Blank eyes flickered, and Harry watched as red surrounded his beloved. Ignoring what common sense he still had, he reached out his hands to grasp Draco's.

"Draco," Harry whispered. "Draco, I love you. Come back to me."

The scythe dropped, as grey Malfoy eyes blinked at him in confusion and fatigue. "Harry?" he asked, still faintly. Harry smiled, a little tearfully, as he traced Draco's cheeks, and let the blond rest his head on Harry's shoulders, body curled around his.

And it was then that a scaly hand, furious at being thwarted again, snatched the scythe from Harry's hands, and lifted it high for power. Then it came down.

Straight at Draco.

"No!" he screamed, and he leapt in front of Draco, his Draco, letting the poisonous, pernicious blade slip through his skin as if it were silk, ripping through his flesh and teasing out blood in ruby streams.

"Harry," Draco murmured, then let his head fall to the side.

"No! Draco! Draco, get up!" In horror, Harry watched as Draco's breathing seemed to pause every now and then, and he turned to Voldemort, his body filled with fury, bright light starting to surround first him, then Draco, and then the room, creeping across the floor towards his enemy.

Green light emitted from Harry's eyes, the colour of Avada Kedevra, filled with fire, and suddenly the room was filled with fire, pure and white and beautiful. Erupting over the whole room with its intensity, and majestic as the sun. And Harry remembered that he'd seen them before seen them in his dreams.

The brilliant white surrounded the seven around them, and as he watched as Voldemort's scream echoed throughout the room as white enveloped his robes, then his hands, then the entirety of his body. Purification of fire at its highest form. Hugging Draco's body close to him, he watched. Watched as the red rings around the seven disappeared, swallowed whole by the white flames, consuming them each with a ball of stainless white, and seemingly apparating them out.

With sudden horror, Harry realised that the fire, as soon as its magic was used up, turned red. Turned into real fire. With no control over whose its victims were. And that it now had no other victims to feast upon.

Except Harry.

Except Harry and Draco.

Using his arms, he rolled Draco towards the only patch of white fire left, looking on as it engulfed Draco's pale, angel-like form and floated him upwards. And stopped. As little cracks in the crackling globe beamed a little red, Harry understood.

Smiling ironically, he closed his eyes, picturing the last remnants of his magic, the last few drops of magic he had that were keeping him off the edge of death, and pictured giving them to Draco.

Sadly he watched as the little ball of energy floated for a little while, as if his own magic was delaying the transfer so he could watch his beloved for the very last time. He was already using the last remnants of energy he had to stand, but he would see Draco that one last time…

"I love you Draco."

Then the ball disappeared, taking Draco with it, and Harry laid down, flickers of light from the fire surrounding him dancing on his hair, on his skin. Letting the now completely red, completely dangerous fire surround him. Letting his blood drip, unheeded, from the sides of his body, spilt wine on the black, black floor. Letting his fatigue take him and sweep him away…


Replies to Reviewers: JadeLilyMalfoy: I blink in shock. And again. Okay? Review not understanding. But I'm guessing you were happy about the chapter right?

JJ CJ: Good. I wanted it that way.

Dark Angel's Blue Fire: Good grief, I hope so! I was ironing out so many flaws with that explanation!

Radish Earrings: Well, here it is, and thanks!

Enelaya: I'm glad you reviewed! And I'm Chinese, so yeah, lol. You have great English!

California Smells Funny: Really? That means so much to me, you don't know!

BlackNeonTears: Well I nope you're not crying now!

Clayscarface: Now did I kill anyone you liked? No! So there! And no, the Dumbledore thing has not been explained yet. Tadah! Next one, sorry!

Hiril Moon: Well…we'll see….

Julia: Nope not red hair…red eyes.

Itchangescolorwhenitdries: What change colour when it dries? Oh, and what does skronk mean?