A/N: Well hellooooo everyone! I really didn't intend to take so long posting this, so sorry about that.
Special thank you's to the lovely HelenaBelle2 and the Guest readers for reviewing.
Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Battle of Hogwarts
"Shit," Draco cursed as his stunning spell missed the oncoming member of the Order and reverberated off the wall behind instead. His mother's wand worked for him well enough but the accuracy could be a bit off. He'd been reluctant to take it off her but he couldn't very well capture Harry Potter without one and she had his Father to protect her. He could take comfort in the knowledge that Lucius would never let anyone so much as look at Narcissa in the wrong way.
"Locomotor Mortis!" Crabbe yelled from his right, causing the woman from the Order to topple over with a scream, her legs locked together.
"Nice!" Draco found himself complimenting his old friend, who must have been paying more attention in class since Draco had left Hogwarts.
He, Crabbe, and Goyle stepped over the woman, who was wriggling forward, trying to grasp the wand she'd dropped in the fall. They'd seen Potter, Weasley, and Granger go into the Room of Requirement, planned to ambush them, to take Potter back to the Dark Lord. It was Bellatrix's plan but his Father had urged him, his eyes pleading with him so desperately that Draco had no choice but to follow through.
They entered the Room, moving as quietly as possible towards the source of the voices from somewhere deep within the labyrinth of ancient secrets and clutter. They rounded a corner just in time to see Potter reaching out to some old warlock wearing a wig and a tiara. Interesting priorities, Draco mused.
"Hold it Potter."
Harry span around, his eyes wide with surprise when he saw Crabbe and Goyle's wands pointing right at him. His face darkened when he saw Draco behind them.
"That's my wand you're holding, Potter," said Draco.
"Not anymore," panted Harry, tightening his grip on the hawthorn wand. "Winners, keepers, Malfoy. Who's lent you theirs?"
"My mother," the blonde snarled, reddening when Harry laughed at him.
"So how come you three aren't with Voldemort?"
"We're gonna be rewarded," said Crabbe, an excited tremble in his voice. "We 'ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to 'im."
"Good plan," Potter mocked.
"So how did you get in here?" he asked. It was a real effort for Draco not to roll his eyes at this obvious attempt to play for time. Probably wondering where his little friends have gone.
"I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden Things all last year," said Draco, his voice brittle. "I know how to get in."
"We was hiding in the corridor outside," grunted Goyle. "We can do Disslusion Charms now! And then," his face split into a gormless grin, "you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum! What's a die-dum?"
"Harry?" Weasley's voice echoed suddenly from the other side of the wall to Potter's right. "Are you talking to someone?"
With a whiplike movement Draco thought impossible of his ogre-like friend, Crabbe pointed his wand at the fifty foot mountain of old furniture, of broken trunks, of old books and robes and unidentifiable junk, and shouted, "Descendo!" The wall began to totter, then the top third crumbled into the aisle next door where Wealsey stood.
"Ron!" Potter bellowed, as somewhere out of sight a girl screamed, presumably Granger, and rumbling crashing sounds signified the wall of junk falling apart. Potter pointed his wand at the rampart, cried, "Finite!" and it steadied.
"No!" shouted Draco, staying Crabbe's arm as the latter made to repeat his spell. "If you wreck the room you might bury this diadem thing!"
"What's that matter?" said Crabbe, tugging himself free. "It's Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?"
"Potter came in here to get it," Draco said slowly and clearly, as if that might help his dim-witted colleagues pick up on the point, "so that must mean-"
"'Must mean'?" Crabbe turned on him with undisguised ferocity. "Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your dad are finished."
"Harry?" shouted Weasley again, from the other side of the junk wad. "What's going on?"
"Harry?" mimicked Crabbe. "What's going on - no, Potter! Crucio!"
Potter had lunged for the tiara; Crabbe's curse missed him but hit the stone bust, which flew into the air; the diadem soared upward and then dropped out of sight in the mass of objects on which the bust had rested.
"STOP!" Draco yelled at Crabbe, his voice echoing through the enormous room. He had to make them see sense before they got his whole family murdered. "The Dark Lord wants him alive-"
"So? I'm not killing him, am I?" yelled Crabbe, throwing off Malfoy's restraining arm. "But if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants him dead anyway, what's the diff-?"
A jet of scarlet light shot towards them; Draco grabbed Crabbe's arm and pulled him out of the way just in time.
"It's that Mudblood! Avada Kedavra!"
Potter, incensed that Crabbe had shot a killing curse at his friend, shot a stunning spell at Crabbe, who lurched out of the way, knocking Narcissa's wand out of Draco's hand. It rolled out of sight beneath a mountain of broken furniture and bones.
"Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!" Draco roared at Crabbe and Goyle, who were both aiming at Potter. Their split second's hesitation was all he needed.
"Expelliarmus!"
A great clash of furiously fired spells ensued. Draco; wandless, and frankly, rather helpless; dove behind a large three-legged wardrobe for cover. Goyle was next to lose his wand; he leapt around foolishly on the spot, trying to retrieve it from somewhere within the rubbish heap.
"It's somewhere here!" Potter shouted to Granger over the furore, pointing at the pile of junk into which the old tiara had fallen. "Look for it while I go and help R-"
"HARRY!" she screamed.
A roaring, billowing noise behind Harry and Draco gave them a moment's warning. Draco turned and saw both Weasley and Crabbe running as hard as they could up the aisle toward them.
"Like it hot, scum?" roared Crabbe as he ran.
But he seemed to have no control over what he had done. Flames of abnormal size were pursuing them, licking up the sides of the junk bulwarks, which were crumbling to soot at their touch.
"Aguamenti!" Potter bawled, but the jet of water that soared from the tip of his wand evaporated in the air.
"RUN!"
Draco grabbed the stunned Goyle and dragged him along, thankfully his muscles had become used to bearing such heavy loads from his time with the werewolves; Crabbe outstripped all of them, now looking terrified; Potter, Weasley, and Granger pelted along in his wake, and the fire pursued them. It was not normal fire; it was fiendfyre: the flames chased them as though they were alive, sentient, intent upon killing them. Now the fire was mutating, forming a gigantic pack of fiery beasts: flaming serpents, chimaeras, and dragons rose and fell and rose again, and the detritus of centuries on which they were feeding was thrown up into the air into their fanged mouths, tossed high on clawed feet, before being consumed by the inferno.
Draco and Crabbe rounded the corner, an unconscious Goyle being hauled along in their wake. They were surrounded on all sides, great walls of flames pressing in on them, suffocating them. "This way!" Draco shouted over the blaze, indicating with his head to a thin gap in the flames. Crabbe bounded towards it with no thought of his friends, out of sight within seconds.
"Fuck!" Draco half shouted, half cried. The gap had closed, the only way out was up. He hauled Goyle up and over his shoulder, then began to climb up a pile of books, onto a spindly table and finally on top of a bunch of charred desks. The flames were licking up the sides of the precarious mound Draco had positioned them on, Goyle was a dead weight on his shoulder as he desperately shouted, "Accio wand!", but the inferno drowned out his voice. He never thought it would end like this, hoisting Goyle higher up his shoulder he realised how stupid he'd been to push Arianwen away, as if he could protect her any better from a distance than he could from by her side. I can't protect shit.
"Malfoy!" A shout interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to see Potter swooping down towards them on a broom, his hand outstretched. But Goyle was too heavy and Draco's hand slid away.
"IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'LL KILL YOU, HARRY!" Weasley roared, soaring down with Granger behind him on the broom, and dragged Goyle up to safety. Draco leapt onto Potter's hovering broom. "Get to the door!"
They flew towards a small rectangle of light in the distance and seconds later had plunged into the corridor wall on the other side. Draco was lurched off the broom and fell, facedown, gasping, coughing, and retching. Potter rolled over and sat up. The door to the Room of Requirement had vanished, and Weasley and Granger sat panting on the floor beside Goyle, who was still unconscious.
"C-Crabbe," choked Draco as soon as he could speak. "C-Crabbe..."
"He's dead," Weasley said harshly.
There was silence, apart from panting and coughing. Then a number of huge bangs shook the castle, and a great cavalcade of transparent figures galloped past on horses, their heads screaming with bloodlust under their arms. Potter staggered to his feet when the Headless Hunt had passed and looked around. The battle was still going on all around them. "Come on, let's go!" and the three cronies ran off, the sooty diadem lying in pieces on the floor.
Draco coughed violently, disgusting black mucus coming up with it. He got up shakily and dragged Goyle to a tapestry of what should have been a pompous knight on his equally pompous stallion, however both had deserted the cloth. He pulled the tapestry aside to reveal a small alcove; with some difficulty, he managed to shove Goyle inside.
He ran as quickly as he could to the crowded entrance hall, planning to go out to the grounds and find his parents. Just as he entered the hall a swish of a long jade-green cloak caught Draco's eye and he turned his head to the left to see a familiar man, his hair perfectly neat and unruffled as it always was, graceful even when in battle. And to his complete horror, Draco realised that the man wasn't alone. Swarms of Welsh witches and wizards descended forth upon the entrance hall, throwing jinxes and curses and hexes everywhere, hitting the darkly clad Death Eaters left, right, and centre.
Within seconds Draco stood alone, surrounded by his fallen allies, if you could call them that. And suddenly someone was upon him, physically upon him, dragging him backwards by his throat. He spluttered wildly, scrabbling at his captors arm to release him, give him air.
"Bedwyr! Let him go!" Aneirin barked, his jade-green robes sweeping behind him as he strode towards the pair.
The grip on Draco's throat was released. He span around and glared at the man who had attacked him, rubbing distractedly at his bruised neck. "I've been waiting to get my hands on you, Malfoy." Gwyn growled.
"Well there's a pity," Draco drawled. "I'm afraid you're not my type, Bedwyr."
"Fuck you!" Gwyn yelled, pouncing at Draco and knocking him to the floor. He beat repeatedly at Draco's face, then scrambled back and kicked him hard in the stomach.
"I told you to stop, Bedwyr." Aneirin's voice boomed above Draco, taught and jagged as he seized the younger man and forced him off his victim.
"Let go of me, Elisedd! Let. Fucking. Go." Gwyn heaved all his weight against Aneirin, forgetting, it seemed, that he was wizard.
"No." Aneirin responded calmly as Draco dragged himself back to his feet.
"BASTARD!" Gwyn roared. "You got my fucking girlfriend pregnant!"
Through the thumping in his skull, the weight of Gwyn's words fell on him. "Where is she?" He snapped, the question directed more at Aneirin than at the enraged man he was restraining.
"She's-"
But Gwyn yelled over Aneirin. "She's fucking here you UNBELIEVABLE STUPID FUCKING-"
"She came looking for you." Aneirin interrupted, frowning. "We were all together when we found out what was happening here, she refused to stay-"
"AND YOU LET HER?" Draco was beside himself. "SHE'S PREGNANT FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!" He didn't wait around for either man to respond, instead catapulting out into the grounds.
Despite being wandless, he threw himself into the thick of it. "Arianwen?" He bellowed, shoving people out of the way as he sought out Arianwen's distinctive blonde locks.
"Brianne!" he shouted just as she blasted the Death Eater she was fighting out of the way.
"Malfoy." she growled, turning her wand on him instead.
"No-no, don't! I just want to find Arianwen!" he beseeched.
"She's here you know," Brianne yelled distractedly, shooting a jinx at another attacker.
"Oh for fuck's sake!" Draco took a hold of Brianne's arm and yanked her down so that they were squatting behind a small rocky hill. "I know she's here, that's why I'm trying to find her." He snapped.
"She's gone," Brianne spat, glowering murderously at him. "She got attacked, had to go to the hospital to get checked out."
"She's hurt?" Draco's head was spinning. "But she can heal herself can't she?"
"Not anymore." Brianne said sadly. "Her uncle poisoned her with some ancient potion no one had ever heard of before. Betsy was able to get her an antidote but it's had some lasting effects on her."
His heart was pounding. "So is she okay or not?!"
"What does it matter to you?" Brianne sniffed.
Draco practically growled in her face. "Fuck this!" He ran off without looking back. He could find out what happened himself.
Draco ran down corridor after corridor, people blurring past him as he tried desperately to find Arianwen. "Damnit!" He yelled, sinking his fist into a wall as his quest hit another dead end.
"Excuse me sir!" A frightened nurse squeaked to his left. "Can I help you?"
Draco turned, his eyes wide, he staggered over and grasped the nurse by the shoulders. "I need to find Arianwen Gwydion," he pleaded, "I need to see her! Tell me where she is!"
"Arianwen Gwydion," the nurse repeated thoughtfully, trying not to tremble under the manic stare of the man covered in blood and soot before her. "Blonde?" she asked. "Welsh accent?" Draco agreed urgently. "Sure! She's right through here, follow me."
She guided him down the corridor and to the right, stopping in front of a handleless white door, a chalk sign at the centre that read 'Duchess Arianwen Gwydion – Maternity'. "She's in there sir," the nurse said in a tone Draco couldn't quite understand. He pushed the door open nervously and suddenly all his urgency seemed to slip away.
"Arianwen?" he asked softly. She didn't move, her head remaining bowed over the tiny bundle in her arms. He moved forward tentatively, his feet squeaking across the freshly mopped tile. He reached out to touch her arm but just before his skin met hers, she spoke.
"She's dead." Her tone was calm, matter of fact, even. But when she drew her head up so that their eyes could meet, he saw the anguish there, the pain blotched all over her face.
"Wh-what?" he stammered. "No! No that can't be right, that can't be right! Let me see her!"
Arianwen closed her eyes, tears streaming through her eyelashes; it was all too much. She let her head fall back on the pillows so that Draco could get a closer look at his daughter. He made a tight, anguished cry, so pained that it caused tears to burst through her eyelashes. "What happened?" he eventually choked out.
"It was Greyback," Arianwen said tonelessly, her eyes still clamped shut, salty tears spilling into her mouth as she spoke, "I was running from Knot and he saw me, followed me down the corridor, grabbed me from behind-"
Draco's jaw was clamped so tightly that his teeth had begun to grind painfully together, blind rage coursing violently through him. "-and he pushed me against the wall, he tried-" her voice wavered, her lips trembling, eyes bright with fear.
"Go on," Draco urged in what he hoped would be a comforting tone.
She sucked in a deep breath. "He tried to-to touch me and my magic, it wasn't working, I couldn't make him stop!" Her voice was becoming steadily more desperate as she continued on. "And then there was this shout from the other end of the corridor and he got distracted so I managed to kick him in the shin and run. I made it to the stairs, was almost at the top when he caught up with me, swiped at my ankles and made me trip."
"You fell?" Draco asked numbly.
"All the way to the bottom." Arianwen confirmed. "I was bleeding everywhere," she whispered.
"How did you get out?" Draco asked stiffly.
"Ginny Weasley helped me, took me to the nearest Floo."
He nodded wordlessly, stunned into a horrified silence. A mix of guilt and sorrow and relief that at least Arianwen was alive was swirling inside him, so overpowering that he couldn't comprehend which emotion he was feeling.
"They made me give birth," Arianwen cried, her agonised voice barely above a whisper, "they made me give birth but they knew she was already dead. How-how could they do that to me?" It was an impossible question and one which tore at Draco's heart even more awfully each time she repeated it. He leant forward, enveloped her in a tight hug, their child lying motionless within their embrace.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered in between planting soft kisses on her head, "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault, I should have stopped Greyback from coming, I'm so sor-"
"What?" Arianwen asked quickly, pulling away from their embrace so she could face him again. "What are you saying?"
Draco's lips parted but no sound escaped. Not that it needed to, his eyes gave away everything that his mouth could not. "You knew he was going to be at Hogwarts, didn't you?" Arianwen accused hotly. "You knew he was going to be there around all those children?"
"Yes," Draco said quickly, "but-"
"No buts!" Arianwen shouted over him. "You didn't stop him! This is all your fault! It may as well have been you that killed her!"
Draco stepped forward, his hands outstretched, desperate to do anything to stop her suffering. But right at that moment, the door was flung open and five armed Aurors darted inside.
"Draco Malfoy?" one of the Aurors, clearly the leader, asked.
Draco paid no notice to them, his attention still fixated on his devastated love. "Arianwen please-"
"Draco Malfoy you are under arrest. Surrender your wand, we are here to escort you to Azkaban."
He looked over at them, wands raised and pointing directly at his chest. "Take it," he lobbed his wand inelegantly in their direction, then looked back at the bed. "Arianwen please love, please let me explain?" But she was staring at him with the most incomprehenshible hatred that all Draco could do was continue to plead with her.
"Come with us," one of the larger Aurors grabbed his arm, another one appearing on his other side just seconds later.
"No!" Draco yelled. "Not until I explain! Arianwen please, I love you-"
"DON'T!" Ariawwen screamed. "Don't you dare you-you-MURDERER!" She clutched her tiny baby to her chest as if trying to protect her from the distraught man in the doorway. "Take him away!" she sobbed. "Let him rot!"
"NO!" Draco cried, his eyes completely bloodshot as more tears rolled on and on. "Arianwen, no!" But his protests fell on deaf ears and the men dragged him away, kicking and screaming to the very depths of all hell, leaving Arianwen all alone with her baby.
For a long time Arianwen watched the spot where Draco had just been, past the point of tears or anger or…anything.
She looked back down at her perfect little girl, their faces just centimetres apart. "Anneliese," she whispered, "that's what I wanted to call you; after my mother."
And then slowly, wistfully, she bent her head just that little bit lower so that their noses brushed. "I love you my darling." And pressed a most tender kiss to her baby's cold forehead.
A/N: One more chapter to go peeps, get excited! I've also been setting this up for a potential sequel but would only really get round to writing it if there's sufficient interest - what do you think guys, sequel or no sequel?
I can't believe it's nearly over, so bittersweet!