A cumbersome breath snagged in Draco's throat. Something had gone wrong; he didn't need verbal confirmation to realise that Hermione's magic had faltered. Dread had lurched through him when he felt Hermione's grip on the affiliation loosen.
Like a coil of rope tied to an anvil and thrown over a cliff.
She had barely managed to hold what remained before Draco was able to step in with steadying support.
But the absolute terror that had taken him…
Draco pressed his eyes shut, blowing out a long breath. He reached deep into himself for strength, for courage. The courage he knew he had learned from Hermione.
They'd rescued Glenneth; one of the biggest steps was complete, and soon he would be able to see her again, search the warmth in her eyes. And together―together they would end this.
On either side of him stood Hugo and Dagomir, the two upon whom he had come to rely the most outside of his wife. At his back was the bulk of the Nocturnus Guard, majestic in their battle gear.
Small patrols had been dispersed to strategic points along the boundaries of the wards.
But Glenneth was on their side again, and any moment now…
Draco released a coil of magic into the bond with Hermione, teasing against her magic; he felt her own nudge his in return, and relief swept through him once again that she was alright.
Her thoughts came through the link a few seconds later. Glenneth is working on the wards.
Soon.
He had felt the might of the command as it swept across the castle grounds, had seen the way the magic of it straightened the spines of his comrades. And instinctively, Draco knew the command had reached into the hearts and minds of Nocturnus, shattering Cosette's hold.
But the magical cost had been astronomical; they hadn't anticipated the mental and magical drain that had recoiled into Hermione's core. A flicker of shame chased through him; if he had hurt her―
There wasn't time for such considerations on a battlefield.
And despite the calm that lingered on the grounds, the sun cresting the horizon and warming the dewy world before him, Draco knew it wouldn't remain so for much longer.
Nocturnus had arrived today with one purpose: to reclaim what was theirs. To put an end to the chaos.
Draco could feel it in the crackle of magic all around him.
The rest of the Nocturnus Order―their friends, family, and others who had taken up the cause along the way―waited on the signal. Their numbers weren't nearly enough to mount an attack on Avance but for the advantages they sought to gain.
But the way everyone had rallied despite the many challenges they'd faced left Draco feeling humbled and more determined than ever.
The wards ahead of them faltered, magic prickling along his skin as it swept away.
Hermione reached into the link once more. The wards are down. Proceed with phase two.
Blowing out a breath, Draco nodded. "Phase two," he murmured, barreling into his magic to access the command again. Dagomir lifted his wand with a series of intricate twists: a signal to the host of guards behind them.
Draco's usage of the affiliation for such an intense purpose had damaged Hermione's, and despite that he'd broken through Cosette's hold the first time, he wasn't willing to take any chances. Carefully, Draco unspooled several strands of his own magic into the bond, seeking to reinforce Hermione's affiliation against what was to come.
Her magic caressed his in return, the feel of it heady.
Draco sucked in a breath, tunnelling deeper into the lunar magic within. He felt it rise to the surface and break free of his palms, hovering in the air around him.
He met Dagomir's stare; the man offered a single, clipped nod.
Draco's eyes fluttered shut as he accessed the command.
Nocturnus Order. The wards are down, and it's time. We ask you to join us, and we will reclaim what is ours. Today, we will stand together again. Draco blew out a breath, his thoughts failing him. I call you to rise to this task, and humbly I seek your help. Please, join us now. Today marks the end for Avance―and a new beginning for Nocturnus.
Hugo's fingers curled around Draco's shoulder in an offering of strength. Disengaging from the link, Draco blinked his eyes open.
The grounds remained quiet, a beautiful sunrise spreading across the rolling Tuscan hills.
He delved back into the bond with Hermione. Where are you?
En route, came her response, a little breathy. We hit a slight snag.
Draco frowned, about to send another response through when he felt the link disengage. She hadn't sounded particularly distraught, and he let the thought steady the sudden spike in his heart rate. "They're on their way."
"Good," said Dagomir, his shoulders back and gaze alert.
Despite everything they had done to prepare, the raw truth of the matter was that they still faced war. And not one but two people in possession of the lunar affiliation. Two ruthless, hateful people.
Draco's gaze flickered first to Hugo then to Dagomir, and he forced a swallow. Each had become like a brother to him―and the guards around them, family.
It went so much deeper than ancient orders and formal oaths.
This was about protecting the people who had helped him get to this point. And Draco knew they couldn't stand to fail; too much was at stake, too many lives in the balance.
He felt Hermione's magic before he saw her, and relief swelled in his heart as she approached with Boris and Glenneth. But before he could speak, his mouth fell open.
Four individuals―two men and two women―in Avance robes followed, and with a burst of fury, Draco's magic built in his hand, preparing to unleash. But Ben and Cynthia walked with them, and his magic quieted with his confusion.
Draco paced a step forward, across the border that had once delineated Avance's wards. "What is this?" he asked, and he watched the eyes of the four Avance widen in surprise.
Hermione released a frustrated huff, and the banality of it almost caused Draco's lips to twitch.
But Ben was the one to answer. "They've yielded, Lunae. Said they'll fight alongside Nocturnus if we let them leave afterwards." His gaze flickered towards Hugo. "Sounds like Bergen's made Cosette some enemies from within her own ranks."
Even in the warm morning light, Hugo visibly paled, his expression stoic. Draco tore his attention back to the strangers. "Why?"
"Elias has threatened us," one of the women said, "and has attacked others."
Releasing an aggravated sigh, Draco scrubbed a hand along his jaw. "Fine. If you want to fight against Avance, you're free to do so. But if you even think about turning your wands on Nocturnus, any one of these fine guards behind me will drop you faster than you can blink."
Four sets of wide eyes darted to the intimidating host just beyond. But the man nearest Draco only ducked his head into a bow. "Thank you, Lunae Ortus."
As their unexpected allies quickly altered the colour of their clothing―Draco couldn't blame them if they wanted to survive against any Nocturnus―he turned towards Glenneth, warmth accumulating in his throat and behind his eyes.
The mage, despite his age, stood several inches taller than Draco; Glenneth's blue eyes shone as they locked onto Draco's, and the man dropped into a deep bow.
"You must know," Glenneth said softly when he rose to his full height once more, "I deeply regret my role in all of this."
Draco could still remember the anguish in Glenneth's stare when Avance had forced him to wrench the affiliation free of Draco's own natural core. He only nodded with a thin press of his lips.
"I know," Draco said, clapping the man on the arm. "It wasn't your fault. All that matters now is what happens today."
"Yes, Lunae Ortus," Glenneth murmured. His lips curled with the faintest of smiles. "Thank you for rescuing me. I cannot say I looked forward to being sequestered in the Nocturnus dungeons."
"We weren't going to let that happen," Draco quipped.
As the mage drifted towards the guards and council, Draco turned to Hermione. There were so many things he deeply desired to say but there wasn't time.
Her fingers grazed the mark on his wrist, and his eyes fluttered at the feel of it, his magic entwining with hers. He planted a soft kiss to her temple, allowing a quick breath to simply exist.
Because he knew any moment now…
And indeed, they didn't have long to wait. In the distance he spotted a few people walking, followed by more, and then dozens. His heart leapt with an anxious rhythm in his chest when over a distant hill, hundreds of people strode forward clad in midnight blue battle leathers.
Magic danced at his fingertips, blurring the periphery of his vision as he watched the mass grow steadily nearer. A soft smile lingered on Hermione's lips, as if she'd never had a doubt.
"It worked," Hugo huffed at his side.
Draco elbowed him in the ribs. "You thought it wouldn't?" He hesitated for a moment, chuckling as he added, "And yet you still gave me that journal?"
Hugo's cheeks flushed a dull pink.
As the people still streamed over the hills towards them, as if following the magic of the command that had sought their attention, Hermione's fingers slipped between his own. Draco sucked in a breath, drawing courage from her hold.
The first wave of people approached, eyes sparkling and hope in their faces. A murmur of excitement broke out as they bent in recognition, some dropping to their knees entirely.
"Please stand," Draco said, suppressing the emotion that threatened. "You're free once more, my friends."
And as the lines of Nocturnus only grew and grew, extending back towards the castle, Draco felt a smile tug at his lips.
Just as the first wave of spellfire broke out in the distance.
They had never expected to rescue some fifteen hundred Nocturnus fighters without drawing Avance's attention. Draco cast a glance towards Dagomir, who checked his watch and nodded.
In fact, they sought Avance's eye. As soon as Elias and Cosette realised what had happened―that they'd freed not only the Nocturnus fighters trapped in the castle and on the grounds, but Glenneth as well―Draco fully expected them to make an appearance.
They'd bet on it.
At Dagomir's command, guards dispersed into the crowd, formulating groups of fighters to coordinate at strategic locations arranged ahead of time. Although they had the advantage in numbers, they had gathered on the grounds, drawing the fight down this time.
Most of the remaining Avance forces had moved into the fields surrounding the high stone walls, but some sharpshooting spellcasters fired from within the battlements. If everything went according to plan, they would retake the castle before the day was through with sheer force.
Draco turned towards Dagomir and gave a nod. The man tapped a message into his magical galleon, and within moments the newest members of Nocturnus―their friends and family―materialised on the grounds behind them.
A flash of black blurred Draco's vision as Potter dashed forward to briefly embrace Hermione, wand at the ready. Draco clapped him on the back, lost for words in the moment when Potter's green eyes found his.
"Thanks for coming, Potter," Draco said quietly. The man offered a nod before venturing into the mass, a group of their friends chasing along after him. Draco caught Theo's eye with a shared grimace, but there wasn't time to speak.
As fighting broke out in earnest all around them, Draco swallowed. Magic accumulated in his palms.
They'd caught Avance off guard this time, but he didn't doubt they would have some more dirty tricks up their sleeves; he frowned, recalling the way they had decimated the Nocturnus fortress with their explosives.
Hermione's fingers coiled around his, spurring his magic to flare alive within him; he caught her stare for a moment, the warmth in her eyes bolstering his waning courage.
Dagomir and Hugo lingered nearby, and as Draco offered a stuttering nod, they moved into the fray.
Fatigue tugged at the edges of Draco's magical core, but still the affiliation poured forth from his palms.
Hermione had fought bravely nearby, eclipsing the enemies that made it through the mob towards them, fire in her eyes. Any Avance who had seen her usage of the affiliation hadn't made it far.
So many Nocturnus were on their side again, but Avance fighters poured from the castle in droves even now. He couldn't rationalise the idea of hundreds of people; thousands of people, fighting for their lives.
The battle felt nothing alike the one before but all too similar.
The cries and screams of the fallen; the zing of constant spellfire blazing through the air with a myriad of colours that might have been beautiful.
Draco wondered if he would ever feel clean again.
To his left, Dagomir tore through their enemies with relentless accuracy; the fury burning in Hugo's stare had rendered the man almost unrecognisable from his usual jovial self. Draco felt a sting of despair at the thought of it.
And still war raged on.
Still, fighters dropped, never to stand again. Nocturnus healers raced through the throngs, shooting up white sparks and saving those few they could.
It was warfare like Draco had never experienced, raw on the ground; sweat and grime coated his face and hands even as the wild power of the affiliation still pushed forth from his hands.
As they fought, he knew teams of guards led fighters towards the castle, seeking to break through the walls and surge inwards.
Draco wasn't surprised that they hadn't seen Elias or Cosette, but he was unnerved. He hadn't been shocked Cosette hadn't been willing to get her hands dirty with her people before, and he wasn't now either.
If they were lucky, the castle would still stand after the inevitable altercation to come.
Fear gripped his heart as he watched his friends fight on. The council; the guards; their friends. And all the other members of the Order he had sworn to protect with his Ascension. Those who had been imprisoned by their enemies and now fought for their own freedom.
His heart thrummed in his chest, racing an anxious rhythm as he gazed on. As the magic flew from his palms, almost of its own accord.
He watched as Hermione was drawn into a fight, instinctively stuttering a step forward, but the man was down with a flash of white light. The pain on her face was carefully hidden in the set of her mouth, but he felt it within his soul, with each life they were forced to take.
It felt as if the world around him swirled in a mass of chaos, refusing to make sense.
Six months ago, he never could have dreamed this up.
"LUNAE ORTUS!"
Draco jolted to attention, whirling on the spot; his eyes widened in surprise, his hand lifting on instinct.
But three Avance fighters were nearly upon him, their wands extended and curses on their lips. With a grimace, Draco felt the magic build in his palm, initiated a rapid twist of his wrist―
One of the fighters dropped, an arrow protruding squarely from his chest; shortly after, the others followed, blood pooling in the grass at his feet. Spellfire whizzed past from every direction as his eyes drifted up.
Draco choked a thick swallow, his hand still frozen mid-twist. His jaw dropped.
Standing before him were Fletcher, Willow, and Juniper. War paint adorned their cheeks, hair tied back in windblown plaits, longbows in their hands.
A harsh breath chased from his lips.
Behind them was the rest of their pack, dozens of centaurs geared for war and ready to fight. Draco caught Firenze's bright stare with a swallow. He approached Fletcher, dipping his head into a bow as he formed a fist across his heart.
"Thank you for coming," he said quietly.
Fletcher responded in turn, hand over his heart, and the rest of the centaurs followed suit. The centaur's blue stare shone as he said, "Thank you. Your efforts in France did not go unnoticed or unappreciated."
Draco only shook his head, his heart clenching in his chest. "But how did you―"
Then he saw Claude Arcand, a soft smile on his face, and comprehension dawned in the back of Draco's mind. Wonder chased through him, and he felt a grin tug at his lips despite the situation. But when Arcand's head dropped into a tilt behind him, Draco scanned the crowd beyond the herd of centaurs.
Battle raged on ahead of them towards the castle, but here at the periphery, his heart skipped a beat. Gooseflesh broke out across his skin.
The werewolves from Marseilles; the coven of vampires they had met with in Bordeaux. He even recognised a few of the magical creature activists they had met with. All stood on the grounds of the Nocturnus Castle, ready to fight.
Draco felt a traitorous stinging of warmth creeping up his throat and moisture at the backs of his eyes. Hermione came up alongside him, her hand warm with the magic of the affiliation as her fingers grazed his arm. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she gazed upon the creature populations that had come all the way from France to join in a fight that had nothing to do with them.
Eyeing them all, she said, "Thank you for your support today."
"Thank you, Lunae Ortus and Lunae Amor." Firenze spoke, his chin high; a quiet echo followed from the creatures assembled. "With your aid, France is once again prosperous for magical creatures of all types. Today we have come to demonstrate our gratitude."
Hermione's fingers tightened against his arm, and Draco planted a hand to her back as he said, "We are forever grateful for your assistance."
A roguish grin spread across Fletcher's face as he swiped an arrow from the quiver strapped across his back, slinging it into his bow with expert precision. "And now we fight."
With a great battle cry, the centaurs launched themselves into the fray, the vampires and werewolves following suit. Draco caught Arcand as he walked by and clapped a hand to the man's shoulder.
Arcand offered a sheepish smile, brandishing his own wand. "It felt like the least I could do."
Eyeing him for a moment, Draco nodded. Then he smirked. "I can't believe you invited the vampires."
With a sparkle to his stare, Arcand said, "It's not as if they can be killed, Lunae." Then he brushed Draco's shoulder with his own as he followed the mob of magical creatures into battle.
Draco blew out a breath, meeting Hermione's eye. "Any sign of them?"
"Not yet." Her lips fell into a scowl. "We're pressing on with the siege of the castle; Nocturnus has nearly breached the walls. If Elias and Cosette won't come out―"
"They'll come out," Draco said, dark fury building within him. "Cosette thought I was dead and you were in hiding, remember?" Across a stretch of the field, several bodies strewn across it, Draco caught Hugo's stare.
The man approached, filthy and a little out of breath. Although he still wore his great-grandfather's sword, he clenched his wand in white knuckles. "Was that a herd of centaurs I just saw?"
Huffing a laugh, Draco nodded. "Apparently Arcand dug around a bit in France for help."
Hugo clicked his tongue and gave a bit of a snicker. "Interesting. The man's got bollocks to ask centaurs to fight in a war between humans." The amusement fell from his face almost immediately though, replaced with a grim twist of his lips. "We're heading in."
Draco gazed towards the castle, squinting a little in the bright flare of sunlight sitting just above the horizon. "Yeah," he murmured, glancing towards his adviser. "Are you alright?"
"I have to be." The words didn't reach his eyes or the slump to his shoulders, but Hugo drew in a deep breath. "I've known what has to happen for months now. It just doesn't make the moment now any easier."
The mass of people surged still onwards, the sheer numbers of Nocturnus fighters overpowering their Avance counterparts from what Draco could see.
But still, his heart was heavy with despair. So many had already fallen across the grounds ahead.
There was more to come, he knew. Avance wouldn't go down this easily without mounting a significant fight in return.
And he could sense in his companions an awareness of the same.
They moved steadily onwards, and Draco spotted Dagomir's grim face moments before the Head of the Guard was upon them. "We may have a problem," he said by way of greeting.
Hugo snickered. "Why am I not surprised?"
Dagomir hissed, bringing the small group of them to a halt. He glanced around, his wand at the ready; Draco could see a handful of guards waiting around them for any Avance stragglers who might seek to attack.
"Avance weren't defeated—not all of them." When Draco frowned, opening his mouth, the man added, "They surrendered."
Draco blinked in surprise, the skin between his brows knitting. But before he could make sense of why it was a bad thing, Hermione spoke.
"Because of Elias?" The question hung between them, and Hugo shifted in Draco's periphery. "It seems his methods have made waves with Avance."
As comprehension settled, Draco frowned. "This could work in our favour though. If Cosette and Elias are at odds." Not only had Elias driven Avance into internal strife, to the point where they were willing to jump from a sinking ship and barter their freedom with Nocturnus, but likely he'd driven a wedge between himself and Cosette. Even as he spoke the words, Dagomir's warning rang true.
"It could," Dagomir allowed, "but they will be reckless. We have yet to see either of them while their forces have fought for them." His chin dropped, expression stern. "You must be careful. We do not know what yet lies in store."
Dagomir's warning released bells pealing in the back of his mind, his blood running cold. The war chief wasn't the type to monger fear, and his concern struck genuine.
Of course, Draco had feared the worst was still ahead of them. Avance was outnumbered by Nocturnus—they always had been—but Avance had sought to play dirty in exchange.
He didn't suspect anything to be different today.
Far ahead, guards led surges into the castle walls, laying siege to the fortress they meant to claim as their own once more and sweeping for Avance fighters hiding within. Damages could be repaired; Merlin knew the Nocturnus Castle had seen its share of battles before. The ancient foundation was likely sentient enough to defend and mend itself.
Sucking in a deep breath, Draco gathered magical strength to his fingertips, drawing comfort from the bond with Hermione as he crossed the threshold of the walls into the courtyard beyond.
What he had expected to see, he wasn't certain.
The earliest waves of Nocturnus must have pressed onwards into the fortification itself. If Dagomir was right and the majority of Avance's forces had either been defeated or surrendered, they still had the advantage in numbers.
Aside from whatever remained of Avance's council and guard.
They would need to defeat both Cosette and Elias, and Draco's mind held little uncertainty as to the manner of that defeat. But a flicker of hope flared within the recesses of his heart; they had come so far.
Several things happened at once.
Only steps ahead of Draco's feet, the ground erupted with a blinding flash of light, sending Nocturnus' forces flying in all directions. Swaths of fighters fell to the sides, screams erupting in the air along with mournful cries.
Reams of Avance poured forward, spells firing into the Nocturnus forces and engaging another chaotic fight.
Draco ought to have known that Cosette would withhold more forces to protect her directly. They had seen it before, when she had allowed her fighters to die for her at the fortress. He released a snarl low in his throat.
Dagomir leapt in front of Draco and Hermione, throwing up a massive shield within moments. A small contingent of guards assembled, and Glenneth rushed up alongside them; Draco hadn't seen him since the fighting had started.
He could scarcely see over the rapid casting of spells between the Avance and Nocturnus guards. Slowly, Nocturnus began to gain ground once more, advancing further into the courtyard.
His eyes darted rapidly, seeking. At last he saw them atop the battlements, fury coursing with the pulse of blood through his heart. Affiliation flared from each of his palms as he strode towards the edge of Dagomir's shield, feeling as much as seeing Hermione at his side.
For Draco saw only red.
Cosette and Elias descended from the battlements, leaping into the air and landing in the courtyard in front of the castle proper, blocking their passage in.
A mocking smirk curled Cosette's lips, her stare reviling as she took in first him and then Hermione. She held up her hands, as if to announce her presence. "Impressive, Draco Malfoy."
His lip curled.
But Cosette went on, her tone irreverent and casual. Draco wanted to blow her into bits.
"Imagine our surprise, having believed you to be dead. But yet, here you are—and with the affiliation once more." Her stare darkened. "We won't make that same mistake again."
Draco's eyes flickered towards Dagomir, whose gaze carried a heaviness Draco couldn't quite read.
Although he could feel Hermione's magic nudging his core, entwining and fortifying his own, she hadn't revealed her own possession of the affiliation yet. Draco fought the smirk that threatened; they would be in for another surprise soon.
Flickering his brows in mild distaste, Draco drawled, "I suppose you ought to have made sure you killed me then. Because now we're here to take back our castle. And you happen to be in the way."
He let a haze of magic drift free, hovering in the air around his friends and council, seeking to protect them. The slight falter in Cosette's expression bolstered his courage.
For the first time, Draco allowed his attention to drift towards Elias, his eyes dead and face stony.
The man only stood with his fists clenched, no magic to be seen. Elias' curious silence unnerved him, and Draco forced a disinterested affectation into the words as he said, "Why?"
Elias clenched his jaw, eyes flashing. "You never deserved Nocturnus or the affiliation. Even now."
"So you thought you'd just—" Draco waved an idle hand, letting magic flare from his fingertips "—betray your Order and take it for yourself."
"The Lunae Ortus is twice the leader you will ever be." Hugo stepped forward, barely-contained fury in his face.
Elias didn't flinch.
"Tell me, Elias," Draco ground out, releasing some of his irreverence. "Because I'm so curious—what did she offer you? What could possibly have been worth betraying your lifelong oaths?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione asked, her magic coiling still further around his own; it occurred to Draco she was funnelling her half of the affiliation into his in case he needed to use it. As the only one displaying the lunar magic, he would be their target.
His brilliant witch.
"She promised him the magic he so desired for himself," Hermione went on, a knit between her brows. "But due to the Nocturnus lines, he would never harness the affiliation. The House of Bergen was second in line to the throne, but a Bergen could never Ascend while a Malfoy lived. You needed to bring the affiliation back in order for him to have a shot at claiming it."
A deep scowl sunk into Bergen's face. Without warning, he released a growl, firing a bolt of pure affiliation magic straight towards Hermione's heart.
Dagomir's shield fell away as if composed of dust, but Draco's own magic flared, just quick enough to stifle Elias'.
The two bursts collided with a flare of light before vanishing.
Hermione released a tight huff of breath, the only indication she gave to the fact that she might have been obliterated.
Little by little, Draco sunk deeper into his own core, drawing more of his magic forward. He tangled the threads of his own magic into Hermione's, seeking to strengthen hers in the same way she did for him. The fibres entwined, and as he carried on with the meticulous work, unable to tell where his magic ended and hers began, she spoke again.
"But what Elias didn't realise," she said, the words ringing in the air between them, "is that the affiliation values loyalty. Respect and trust. Love."
Elias sneered, drawing another ball of power to his palm. "You know nothing of what the affiliation claims."
A faint smile tugged at Hermione's lips; Draco's heart rattled in his chest, his awareness of her complete and overwhelming. She whispered, "And you know nothing of its strength."
Cosette scoffed loudly, irritation flashing across her face. "I've had enough of this." She drew power into her own palm, the base power of the affiliation. "You might think you can seize back your Order, reclaim your mage—but you can't defeat us."
"No?" Draco asked, levelling her with a hard stare. "It seems to me you're alone. Elias has driven out many of your most faithful with his tyrannical ways, and you—" He shook his head. "You're playing with magic that was never meant to be yours in the first place."
Still, his magic swept through Hermione's core and back, building his own power and hers. His great-grandfather's ring warmed on his finger as it struggled to contain the great swell of magic rising within him.
He turned back towards Cosette with a wry smirk. "You haven't told us why you're doing all of this."
Mocking his derision, she said, "Isn't my hatred for Nocturnus obvious?"
Draco dropped his head into a tilt. "Sure, I suppose it is. But you've sacrificed hundreds of lives, and for what? To sit around in our castle and play magic with your new friend Elias?"
Anger flashed in Cosette's eyes, and at last her facetious facade fell.
Through clenched teeth she snapped, "Nocturnus ruined my family. Through a centuries old bloodline curse, I would lose my magic, like my mother and grandmother before me. But instead—" She lifted a hand, shooting a flare of magic into the sky. "I'll have magic greater than ever. And by claiming the affiliation for myself and by killing the last living heir to Nocturnus, I'll stifle your pathetic Order forever."
His eyes drifted to meet Hermione's at the revelation. His nerves vibrated with the strength of the magic growing within him, and he clenched his hands into fists.
Cosette released the affiliation directly towards them; prepared for such a thing, Draco swept a hand through the air, sending her magic ricocheting into the wall. Stone exploded and collapsed with a cloud of dust breaking into the air.
Still, Nocturnus guards withheld the spells of the Avance guards along the edges of his vision.
"Do not believe," Cosette hissed, "that I will allow Elias to drive my Order away. I do not tolerate insolence, and I will not have my leadership questioned."
With a snap of her wrist, several Avance guards stormed free of the castle, dragging a girl between them.
Draco felt each dull thud of his heart in his chest even as Hugo's pained roar echoed in the back of his mind.
Arms and legs bound, an invisible gag stifling her cries, the guards threw Cynthia Bergen at Cosette's feet. The woman's eyes were cold as she spat, "And I do not tolerate traitors."
Adrenaline leapt to life in Draco's veins. In his periphery, he saw Ben step forward with a cry, wand aloft, before a flare of Cosette's magic threw him into the wall; the man crumpled to the ground. Draco's eyes could only linger for a second.
Elias merely stared at his daughter, but Draco could see the falter in his expression. He merely said, "You betrayed us?"
Cynthia scowled up at each of them, her hard stare lingering on the father that had forsaken her and her brother for power. "I did not betray you—you were the one to betray Nocturnus after raising us for its cause."
Draco fired a burst of magic at one of the guards who held her; the man fell lifeless to the stone. Fury coursed through him, magic unrelenting and growing unstable.
He could feel Hugo's shuddering breaths at his other side. The man said quietly, "Please, Lunae."
Draco's eyes flitted again to Ben, unmoving on the ground.
Then he sought Glenneth's stare, the mage's clear blue eyes ice cold. Draco's magic clenched Hermione's against his own.
"Don't do it," Elias said at last, drawing his own magic as he turned on Cosette. But the woman only scowled in return, and with a flick of her wrist, pure magic flew from her hand, barrelling straight towards Cynthia, helpless on the ground between them.
Tension hung in the air but for Hugo's sharp intake of breath.
Draco leapt forward out of rank, his carefully aimed spear of magic skewering Cosette's; it burst in the air before falling away with a shower of white sparks into Cynthia's hair while tears poured down her cheeks.
Exposed to the Avance guards who still lingered, Draco waved a shimmering hand to deflect the sudden barrage of spellfire flying at him from all directions. Coloured beams of light streamed at him while the guards behind engaged once more.
But Elias only growled, drawing an incredible flare of magic forward and firing it at Cosette. She deflected with her own, a great crash of magic.
Fury blazed in Elias' eyes, and he drew into his power again, releasing it from his palms.
Draco watched as the magic grew and grew, curling into a spiral in the air above him, dulling and darkening into a pale grey. He watched on, a breath caught in his throat, uncertain where to turn or who to attack.
With so much volatile magic in play, any missteps could result in lives being lost as collateral damage. And they weren't willing to sacrifice any more lives.
But Glenneth chanted, his words quiet as his magic swelled into a powerful enchantment.
Still Elias' magic strengthened even as it darkened further into a stormy grey; his eyes flashed as magic poured from within himself, charcoal now and nearing pitch.
Glenneth's enchantment flew forward, and Draco watched as terror crested Elias' face.
In Draco's ear, Dagomir said, "The broken oaths have corrupted his magic." When Draco cast him a glance, Dagomir gave a grimace and added, "And Glenneth is drawing it from him like poison, turning his own magic against him."
Hermione swallowed thickly, her face sickly and pale.
Draco scrounged up only an ounce of pity, having felt the agony of magic being ripped from one's core. While all attention was on Elias, Draco carefully measured the situation. Their group was council and a small contingent of guards. Fallen Nocturnus lay against the walls from Cosette's initial blast of magic and the waves of fighting that had followed.
His heart mourned, but it wasn't yet the time.
Most of the remaining Avance fighters had fallen at last.
He allowed his magic to creep into the stone beneath his feet, seeping along the cobbles and protecting each of his friends who still stood.
An agonised cry escaped from Elias, magic still breaking from within him with a great rending tear, black as night. Hugo curled a hand around Draco's shoulder—whether in seeking support or in holding himself back, Draco didn't know. But he clapped a hand atop Hugo's, infusing strength and reassurance into the magic that emanated from his palm.
Under his breath, he said, "We're going to get Cynthia back. And we're going to bury Cosette."
The great swirl of corrupted magic twisted within the courtyard, gusting through the air, and Draco felt a flicker of fear as he strengthened his own magical shields.
Until the magic eclipsed Elias; strength depleted, he collapsed to the ground. The man's eyes fluttered, alike to Hugo's in colour and shape but so calculating and cold in a way Hugo could never be.
Elias huffed a breath, and, so quietly Draco wasn't certain if he'd heard him correctly, Elias choked his son's name.
Silent tears broke from Hugo's eyes as he stared, unblinking, watching his father's magic and strength slip away. He only stared, red-eyed, mouth hanging open in shock. His white-knuckled fingers curled around Draco's shoulder had become a vise.
Cynthia released a great sob at the sight of her father's immobile form, frail against the cobbles, and the sound of it drew Draco back to the present.
Cosette's magic flared, as if bolstered by Elias' demise—as if she had reclaimed his portion of the magic—and light burst free of her palms, breaking into the sky above them. Her face showed no remorse for the loss of her partner; Draco wondered whether she had ever cared about him or if he was just a means to an end.
The smallest twinge of pity crept through him. If not for Elias, then for Hugo and Cynthia, who had looked up to their father for so long.
Cosette had always been their truest enemy, and in her deadened eyes, he knew she had grown stronger than ever.
Before she could turn her magic on Cynthia, still bound and prone on the ground before her, Draco sent a burst of the affiliation towards the girl, drawing her in a cocoon of magic out of harm's way and melting her bonds.
But Draco could feel more than see the moment when Cosette swivelled away from Cynthia towards him. Awareness raced through him, pure and raw, at the bolt of magic careening straight at him across the courtyard.
His magic preoccupied with recovering Cynthia, a flash of fear swept through him. And Draco froze as he swung one hand out, a grimace tugging at his mouth. He would be too late.
Hermione lunged forward, her magic tugging at his own, and he wrenched his eyes to her just in time to see a flare of magic unlike anything he'd ever seen fly forth from her palms.
The affiliation that burst free was so bright, so powerful, it was enough to momentarily blind him. Pure, unhindered fury sat on her face when the flash of it subsided, throwing Cosette's magic off course. She drew from the deep well they'd spooled together—that Draco had so meticulously entwined with his own—and the magic that swept the courtyard was vastly more than he had ever seen concentrated at once.
Hermione's hatred for Cosette in that moment was so visceral he could taste it in the air, and caught in her surprise, Cosette only turned towards Hermione, her eyes wide.
The two of them parried bolts of magic, Cosette's possession of the affiliation dull and fledgling in comparison. Draco tore his attention back to the battle at hand as the remaining Avance guards that were still loyal broke into the fray.
Chaos flew all around him.
Draco could scarcely see beyond Hermione's flashes of magic, unwilling to hit her as she and Cosette danced around one another, magic flying faster than he could keep up with.
Dagomir watched on, as helpless as Draco, even as Hermione's battered Cosette with relentless lashes of unchained magic, swatting the woman's feeble efforts aside like flies as she advanced still further.
Hermione's eyes shone with an unearthly power and rage; pride swelled within Draco as he caught a breath at the sight of her, magic flaring across her midnight battle armour and reflecting off the metal of her crown. A true warrior queen.
Cosette faltered a step back. A blur chased through Draco's periphery. He watched, stunned, as Hugo leapt into the fray with a great, pained cry.
"Hugo!" Draco roared, fear rippling through him as the man wove through the flares of deadly magic. Draco jumped back into the fight all around him, throwing the affiliation at any Avance guards who remained on their feet, stilling their hearts and stealing their breaths with an eclipse of magic.
Until everything halted.
All Draco knew was the steady, hollow beat of his heart as Hermione's hands dropped. Magic fell from her fingertips as she released a heavy breath.
And Hugo, devastation and anguish wrought in his face.
His great-grandfather's sword buried in Cosette's rib cage.
Cosette's eyes bulged in shock, her mouth hanging open as her blood poured out across Hugo's hands. He twisted the sword within her before wrenching it free with a slash that echoed across the ruined walls of the courtyard.
Hugo stared her down as the life faded from her eyes, blood pooling on the stones, before she sank to the ground in a graceless heap. Her head dropped with a thunk.
Shoulders heaving, Hugo held the sword within quaking hands, blood splattered across the dark fabric of his armour. Draco gaped at him, brow furrowed, before the man turned to meet his stare.
Chest tight, Draco choked out a quiet, "Shit, Hugo."
A sudden stillness descended over the courtyard.
The Avance guards who had leapt into the fight lay fallen around them, and Draco's eyes blurred at the sight of so many prone forms in Nocturnus gear as well. Some were only injured, and with the healing powers of the affiliation, he and Hermione worked in silence to fix up their wounded.
The quiet work of it helped to steady his heart, adrenaline sinking away at last and leaving him exhausted in the wake of it.
Hugo still stood over Cosette's motionless form several minutes later, the sword clenched tight, but his eyes were fixed instead on his father. His sword clattered to the ground in front of him.
Dagomir conferred quietly with Glenneth and the guards as scores of Nocturnus swept back out from fighting within the castle some time later, into the fields to assess the fallen and check for more wounded.
Draco felt only disbelief.
His eyes darted between the forms of Cosette and Elias, defeated on the cobblestone.
Turning from the battleground before him, he ventured back through the walls and onto the grounds with Hermione, healing magic warming his palms as he sought the Nocturnus fighters who had been injured in battle.
Disbelief—and relief. It swept up through him into his heart, into the depth of his magic.
The occurrences of the day settled within him. They had sustained losses—more than he was willing to address at the moment.
But they had won. A vibrant sun shone high above.
At last, Draco let out a breath.
Author's Note: I don't think I've ever been so nervous to post a chapter. I hope you liked it. Only two more and the epilogue remain. Thanks for reading everyone; it means more to me than I can even put into words.
Alpha and beta love to Kyonomiko and ravenslight, respectively.