He gulped but didn't falter. His wand was pointed directly at his father, stance ready to defend himself. When he didn't reply, Lucius lowered his wand.
"You won't hurt me." He claimed with a grin. At this point he began pacing back and forth, a few steps in each direction.
"So, my question for you is... when? When did you betray your entire family?"
"It's been a while." Draco kept himself cool and collected, refusing to back down for anything.
"Hm." Lucius nodded. "Not even going to try to deny it anymore? Not even going to compose some half-decent lie to try to cover your own arse like you did at the fireplace?"
Draco's face didn't reflect the uncertainty within. "How did you know about that?"
Another voice approached from the darkness. It was a familiar drawl that Draco found to be quite soothing.
"Because although your father is an awful Legilimens, the Dark Lord happens to be quite astute."
Out of the shadows stepped none other than Professor Snape, wand drawn and pointed ahead. Draco relaxed slightly.
"Severus? Why have you taken it upon yourself to help protect the traitor? Surely you were unaware of his behavior?"
"Unaware is a loose term, Lucius. While I do not agree with some of his choices, I will protect his life as my own."
A silence settled between the trio, wands drawn two against one. Draco could feel his own breathing, shallow and heady. A cold sweat had broken on his posterior neck. He shuddered slightly.
"I do apologize, Severus, but the Dark Lord doesn't see it so. He wants the boy dead." He cocked his head at Draco and his Godfather, who had become in fact more of a father to him than he'd ever expected.
"So, what, Dad, you're gonna kill me?" His voice was laced with disgust in an almost haughty fashion. He tried to hide his shaking knees.
Lucius laughed softly. "You know, Draco, when I met with you in the fire that night, I had a visitor. The Dark Lord himself was listening in on our conversation. He wanted to make sure that your intentions were pure.
What he saw in your mind's eye was enough to floor the rest of us. My own son, in a blasphemous relationship with the boy Potter? And the fact that you believe you...love him?" He raised his eyebrows condescendingly and allowed a chuckle to escape his lips.
"And your poor excuse of a lie. Even I could see through your faked plans, and like Severus has so boldly made clear... I am a terrible Legilimens. We knew all along, Draco. Everyone knows about your sexual deviancy. Everyone knows you've turned your back on what's right. And, when we win, your death will be in vain."
"You think I bloody well care what you think!?" Draco shouted, abruptly losing his poise in favor of the intense passion rooted throughout his body. This was it. This was the confrontation he'd been waiting years for. His heart was pounding, adrenaline pumping coarsely throughout his circulatory system.
"You can go ahead and fucking kill me, Dad! Do it! After everything you've done to me, all of the shit you've put me through for 16 years, death would be a goddamn reprieve!"
"Settle yourself, Draco." Lucius kept his wand lowered with an amused expression. "I have no desire to waste my time murdering you." He turned his focus to the nothingness behind them.
"You can come out now."
Out of the shadows stepped a third individual, quite unlike the others.
Her raven black hair was pulled in front of her face, contrasted boldly against the ghostly hue of her skin.
She stepped slowly, cautiously toward the trio. Her wand was pulled, revealing the shaky hand that she struggled intently to steady. To be honest, she was deathly afraid of what was to come.
"Your friend here knows what's right." Lucius snarled, presenting a proud extended hand toward Pansy. "She made this little get together possible. She let us in."
Draco shifted his gaze to the girl he'd known since childhood. She didn't look like a cold blooded killer. Her face was matted with dust from battle, streaked by tears; her hair was disheveled more than he'd ever seen it...
If he didn't know better, he'd say she appeared...regretful.
Pansy's head fell as she crossed the room, reluctant to make eye contact with her former friend. She pointed her wand at her father and paused, apparently making some sort of decision. The moment passed briefly as she cast a loosening spell on Draco's restraints. After helping him stand, she turned apprehensively to face the rest of them.
"Our Dark Lord has decided that," Lucius stepped forward with an air of playful and dramatic amusement. "...because Draco couldn't follow through with the task he'd been given..." he placed a hand on Pansy's shoulder, gesturing toward her proudly in a way that had never been reserved for Draco. "...and Ms. Parkinson has succeeded at said task..." he lifted his hand and waved it about in grandeur fashion. "...then who better to end Draco Malfoy's life, but the successor herself!" He was all but laughing, an almost ravenous expression plastered across grinning lips and wild eyes.
Draco subconsciously stepped backward, though his wand remained high. He had suddenly found himself unable to breathe. His father held the erratic and untamed behavior before him proudly, a symbol of just how far gone he'd become. His stance mirrored that of Aunt Bellatrix whose obsession and devotion to the Dark Lord caused her sanity to nearly rot.
Across from Draco stood a petrified Pansy, whose mouth had all but fallen from her face. When their eyes met, Draco noticed fresh tears staining her cheeks.
The moment seemed to freeze. Draco could only imagine the expression his face held; a mixture of fear and disbelief had swept him from the ground up. Neither made a move, though Pansy's wand trembled slightly in front of her. The silence was an eerie but tranquil middle ground, stretching timelessly between them.
Until it didn't.
With a loud crack, Blaise Zabini had appeared and was seemingly armed with 3 House elves. His arms were crossed, a smirk playing lightly on his lips. As it turned out, his presence was wholly unexpected. He stood smugly, pleased with himself.
No one moved a muscle. Lucius spoke.
"Ah, a Zabini has graced us with his presence." He turned to one of the Death Eaters that remained motionless from Snape's spell.
"Why don't you heal your father and join the soirée?"
Pansy started at the loud crack that revealed a confident Blaise. She felt her insides lurch at the sight of him, intestines twisting due to confusion but also of utter relief. Blaise... he was okay. He was the same as always. She hadn't done any permanent damage. Relief turned to... excitement. Maybe she was, in fact, redeemable. She felt her trembling hand steady.
What in the fuck was Blaise doing here? And with... Dobby? Things were turning absolutely mental, and Draco wasn't sure what to make of it. Had Blaise come to do him in himself? Or would Pansy beat him to it? He held his ground, but barely. As his once statuesque grip on his wand loosened into a nervous quiver, he noticed Pansy staring in his direction.
Her lips separated from a thin line to begin forming words. Her eyes were full of anticipation, and Draco's heart quickened at the possibility of what was to come.
He focused steadily on her lips, yearning to know what last words he would grasp. He feared that his end was near, and he attempted to make peace with the fact that his death would be cause-worthy.
The thoughts became stuck somewhere between acceptance and tears that were lodged in the back of his throat. A single face flashed through his mind- Harry's, and all at once his ideas morphed into memories of the two of them.
Sitting beneath an old oak tree with promises of forever. Warm water dripping in beads down the small of his back. That crooked smile, accompanied by glasses that tended to remain the same. And those eyes... they were emerald, and trusting, and so easily consuming of everything Draco had to offer...
There was nothing else he wanted; needed. He had to fight. For what was right. For Harry.
He felt himself physically strengthen as he prepared to cast a hell of a shield charm.
What Pansy mouthed next were the words "I'm sorry."
Blaise didn't have a chance to respond to Lucius Malfoy's invitation.
On the right were Dumbledore and Snape, awaiting wordlessly for the right moment to attack.
On his left was Draco, trapped in a lockdown with Pansy. And in front of him was Lucius Malfoy, surrounded by several incapacitated Death Eaters and what appeared to be Mr. Parkinson.
"It's okay, Pansy. Serve him justice." The voice of her father resonated with twisted authority masked by a faux tranquility. It was yet another attempt to manipulate her.
Pansy's face was unlike Blaise had ever seen it before. She was scared, and deep to her core. He studied her features as time seemed to slow around them. Surely, he was hallucinating. Her expression morphed from frightened to resolute. What was she formulating?
And then, he realized it. She had made up her mind. She was going to murder her best friend.
"PANSY, NO!" The scream escaped Blaise's lips before he could stifle it. And, with a flick of her wand, Pansy cast a spell.
"Were almost there, guys! We've got to keep going!" Ron and the others were sprinting toward the astronomy tower. It had been a long haul from the 7th floor, and Neville was nearly out of breath, but they charged forward nonetheless.
They were beyond any straggler Death Eaters and had taken out four more forcefully along the way.
The group's teamwork had proven more than effective; they'd stunned, knocked out, and bound every one of them. Luna was keen on shielding while Seamus and Dean provided distraction.
Even Cho had played her part in taking down the opposition. Ginny and Macmillan now ran side by side, 2 of the fastest sprinters in the group. Luna skipped along cheerily, confidence bubbling from behind them.
Ron and Hermione were next in line, keeping a similar pace. And in the back was Neville and the Hufflepuffs, who had slowed for his sake.
"The stairs! I can see them!" Ginny upped her game, legs cramping but refusing to give out. Together, they began the trek toward the sky.
"Incendio."
Her tone was solemn and secure. The spell left her lips like fresh redemption, cleansing her fate. No longer shaking, Pansy stood without movement, dignified.
Draco's gaze immediately went downward, as he expected any part of his body to be engulfed by flames. He awaited the burning sensation, the charred etches of raw flesh. The pain.
He snapped upward when it didn't come. An irate but pained cry escaped the throat of the man across from him. The man he knew to be his father.
Before Draco was a humbled Lucius Malfoy, whose robes were consumed by flames. He began to shriek and flail about violently, attempting instinctively to put out the fire.
Meanwhile, several things happened at once.
Pansy and Draco's eyes met in a formative truce that would change everything about their relationship.
Her lips pulled into a sly, almost facetious smile that let Draco know she was still the same Pansy, but cleansed anew.
Draco returned the gesture with a bob of his head and his famous Malfoy smirk. Pansy shook her head, grinning.
Dumbledore and Snape began firing spells across the room at Cassius Parkinson and the others, whom he'd revived in the split second following Pansy's spell.
The House elves apparated and disapparated, using their magic to ambush the enemy.
Blaise placed an arm on Draco's shoulder after ducking an incidental curse. He patted it twice, and Draco glanced at him questioningly.
"You didn't join your father," Draco observed, and Pansy stepped forward.
"For the same reason I haven't." She declared, eyeing Blaise gratefully. "Because no one deserves this."
Blaise flashed her a grin before turning back to Draco. "I'm with you on this one, brother. And I won't back down."
"What in the bloody hell is happening up here?" The words belonged to Ron Weasley as he entered hastily with the rest of Dumbledore's Army. Curses flew in every direction, illuminating the space beyond the silver of the moonlight.
He blocked a dark jinx that was headed his way, and Hermione placed a shield in front of Cho and Susan.
"Just exactly how many students refuse to follow instruction?" Snape asked in the annoyed, frustrated tone he often reserved for them. He continued to dual one of Voldemort's men with an exasperated expression on his face.
Ron smirked, happy to have frustrated the old git.
Hermione threw a jinx in the direction of Blaise's father, who fell face first after he consequently lost his sense of equilibrium.
Luna and Hannah flitted about, conjuring shields for their counterparts and earning bone chilling grimaces from beneath skull masks.
Neville and Macmillan double teamed an unknown death eater who put up a rather good fight but was eventually thrown to the floor by Neville's famous "Petrificus totalus."
"Yes!" Neville shrieked while gesturing his excitement with a downward pull of his fist.
"Good job, mate!" Macmillan patted him on the shoulder, and they rushed to join Seamus and Dean in another dual.
If looks could kill, Lucius Malfoy would have taken out the entire room. Mr. Parkinson cast an aguamenti spell to diminish the fire, and all that remained were the tatters of his robes and an irate expression that was fixed upon his face.
He immediately turned his attention to Draco, who had joined Blaise and Pansy on a tirade to take out as many Death Eaters as rapidly as possible.
"Malfoy! Where's Harry!?" The voice of Ron Weasley echoed amongst the commotion.
"I thought he was with you!" He blocked a curse that was thrown his way.
"Fuck! We lost him!" Ron continued to battle with Hermione by his side.
Zabini's attention was captured by a jinx that was cast from the right.
"How could you, Blaise!? Choose Dumbledore's filthy arse over your own family? You are no son of mine." His vision snapped up to see a masked man, his father, coming toward him.
Blaise shifted his focus to block a different spell that had come from his left. His father continued throwing curses in quick succession, and it was a bit much to fight at once. He determinedly pressed forward, shielding and cursing and jinxing until he was panting. He thought he'd had it under control, switching back and forth with a sweat spreading profusely across his brow.
But the spells continued at a quicker and quicker pace, and, skilled as he was, he began to falter. Suddenly, he felt a stabbing pain in his left arm, which he grasped while directing his attention to the caster: his father.
His arm began to bleed, a large would present on his right bicep. He clutched it tightly, ducking a bright blue spell from overhead as he tried to squelch the bleeding.
The man approached him, taking a moment to reveal himself and tossing the mask aside.
Blaise paused, unable to react appropriately due to injury. He stood still, kind of stupidly if he had to be honest. It was just the shock of it all. And the blood loss. He was losing a lot of blood.
His father was face to face with him now, a wand digging harshly into his chest. Blaise met eyes with his patriarch and started. They were as pitch as the darkness surrounding them. A perfect match. Blaise said not a word and braced himself for what was to come. This, quite possibly, was the end.
His eyes scrunched tight, lids pressed firmly together as he feared the pain of death. There was a burning sensation, but not exactly what he expected.
The fire spread down his chest in a fine line, almost as if the wand was scraping his flesh. And, as quick as it had come, the pain receded.
The pressure lifted from his chest. His arm was still fixed to his side, clutched by white knuckles. He expected to feel light headed maybe? Or peaceful. But that's not what he felt at all. He could still hear the whirring of chaos dancing about the room.
When he opened his eyes, he was stunned to find his father on the ground, eyes glued into a wide stare. Motionless.
"Blaise, honey, are you ok?"
Narcissa Malfoy stood to his right, examining his arm. Her wand was gripped tightly.
Blaise nodded, and she smiled softly. "He'll wake up when this is all over. Don't worry." She placed a gentle hand on his uninjured shoulder.
"Mrs. Malfoy, what kind of magic is that? That's one hell of a spell. You saved my life!"
"It just so happens I learned a trick or two from being married to the head of command. Come along, darling."
The two continued to fight alongside each other, upholding their position on the light's side. Perhaps the world had turned upside down.
