As always, thank you so much to all of the new followers and those of you who have favorited this story; it makes my day to get those notifications!
And for the once who have left reviews: You are all amazing! I get so excited to read what you've thought of the latest chapters!
Hopefully you all enjoy this one.
Song Inspiration: Words - Skylar Grey
Chapter 32
Draco stood beside Hermione, holding tightly to her hand as she moved through the crowd of wounded. The two of them did what they could to assist Madam Pomphrey in healing those who were injured, knowing that their reprieve was swiftly coming to a close.
At Draco's request, the two of them moved to the dark corner of the room where the turncoat Slytherins sat, attempting to blend into the wall behind them and avoid any unnecessary attention. Draco had been relieved to see that Pansy was okay apart from the nasty bruise that spanned one whole side of her face, and Theo, Daphne, and Blaise were relatively unscathed. As the five Slytherins and Hermione stood talking, an all-too-familiar voice hissed through the room once more.
"Harry Potter is dead. I killed him as he fled the field of battle, leaving you all behind to die in his stead, as was his way. To continue to resist me is pointless. Your Chosen One lives no longer, and should you all continue to fight against me, your lifeless bodies will join his. Come outside, see with your own eyes, and then choose your side."
Draco heard the breath rush from Hermione's lungs in a panicked gasp, and he had to grab onto her with both arms and ease her to the stone floor as her legs gave out and she collapsed in a boneless heap. When the Dark Lord's voice had fully faded from the eerily silent room, she looked up at him in shock and disbelief, tears swimming in her brown eyes.
"It's not true. It can't be…can it?" she asked, the question tinged with desperation.
Draco, with a bit of assistance from Theo, hoisted her back onto her feet and laced the fingers of his right hand tightly with her left as they joined the eerily silent crowd that slowly moved as one toward the doors of the Great Hall.
He watched as Hermione's right hand reached out to grab Weasley's in a death grip when they passed the wizard who had been waiting for her at the doors. Hearing the four Slytherins moving right behind him, Draco drew strength from them as well as Hermione. He knew that they would feel the same way that he did.
It was time for them to pick a side once and for all. Although it would likely mean their imminent death, they would continue to fight against the Dark Lord, and their own families if need be. They could not – would not – straddle the fence any longer.
They watched silently, hardly believing their eyes, as a weeping Hagrid appeared, cradling someone in his arms. The tension in the air was palpable as they waited with bated breath for the half-giant to draw close enough for the body to be identified.
McGonagall confirmed it first, the broken wail that was torn from her throat leaving more than one person shaken. A woman that was not known for showing emotion wept as a sorrowful Professor Slughorn patted her gently on the back, attempting to console the woman who faced the body of a child she had been partly responsible for more than six years.
Hermione squeezed Draco's hand even tighter as she buried her weeping face in Weasley's shoulder. The redheaded wizard had dropped his own grasp on her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders while silent tears tracked down his own dirt-streaked cheeks.
"Your hero is dead!" the Dark Lord crowed out happily, to the raucous shouts of the Death Eaters and Snatchers that followed behind him. The man – or monster, rather – stood at the head of his own army, Hagrid standing just behind and to the right of him cradling Potter's motionless body in his arms while silent sobs wracked his body.
"I offer you all a choice," the man continued smugly. "Join me, here and now. I am a merciful lord and will offer you the chance to atone for your…misguided loyalty to the so-called 'Chosen One'."
"Liar!" came a feminine shout from their side, and Draco looked to his left to see Ginny Weasley glaring at the man, hands clenched into shaking fists at her sides and eyes red-rimmed from all of the tears she had shed in the last hour, first for her oldest brother and now for her boyfried. He watched as Luna pulled her back into her side, stroking her hair gently as she tried to calm angry, heartbroken witch.
But Ginny's words had opened the flood gates, and Draco listened as others around him began to hurl insults and abuses at the man that faced them from across the courtyard. He watched as the Dark Lord's eyes narrowed in anger. With a swipe of his wand – the Elder Wand – through the air, the entirety of the forces of light were silenced. Draco watched their mouths continue moving for a moment more before their voicelessness registered in their minds.
"Last chance," he said in a dangerously silky voice while caressing the wand in his hand.
His red eyes scanned the crowd, stopping suddenly on Draco. He could feel the man probing at his mind and slammed his Occlumency shields in place, protecting himself from the wizard's influence.
"Ah, Draco. How I've missed you. Come," he motioned at Draco, not asking but ordering, "join me, my young servant."
He felt Hermione's hand twitch in his own as she reflexively gripped it tighter, then forced herself to loosen her hold on him. He had never loved her more. No matter what it would do to her if he left her side now, she would never force him to stay, to choose her over his parents. What she didn't know, however, what Draco had not even known with one hundred percent certainty himself until that very moment, was that he had absolutely no desire to leave her side. If he was going to die, he would do so on his own terms, and his terms were that he would not abandon the witch beside him.
Draco did not speak, merely drew himself up to his full height as he gripped Hermione's hand tighter. He held it proudly for everyone to see and watched as the Dark Lord's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, Lucius. My dear Narcissa. How proud you must be to have a blood traitor for a son."
He stared defiantly at his parents, letting them know without words exactly where his loyalties now lay. In his father's eyes, he saw only the same vacant expression that had been there for the past year. He felt a sting of rejection at the confirmation that his father had chosen a man who had tortured and abused him over his own son, but the pain was less than he had anticipated it to be. He realized that he had made his peace with his father's choices long ago.
His mother, however...
He looked into her light blue eyes and the expression he saw there was harder to identify. It looked suspiciously similar to…relief? Pride? He hoped he was not merely seeing what he wanted to see but feared that was exactly what he was doing. Rejection from his mother would be much harder to handle than the rejection he had received from his father.
"And you, my children?" the man continued, his gaze now turning to the four that stood directly behind Draco: Blaise, Theo, Daphne, and Pansy. He scanned the crowd of people that stood behind the Dark Lord, easily spotting Pansy's and Theo's fathers. Blaise's mother and Daphne's parents, while certainly sympathetic to the Dark Lord's aims of Pureblood dominance and Muggle subjection, were not outright followers and were not present.
He looked behind him in time to see the four of them stare back defiantly at the Dark Lord. They had chosen their side as well. They hid their fear behind the emotionless Pureblood masks that they had learned to wield effortlessly from the cradle.
"Pity," the Dark Lord spat. "Such a waste of magical blood. You all could have ruled this new world. Instead, you will be no more than a footnote in the history of my reign."
He watched as Percival Parkinson sneered at his only child before pointedly turning away from her to face the Dark Lord, clearly telling her without words what he thought of her desertion. He heard Pansy sniff once, but she still made no move to join her father. Theo's father, Theodore Nott Senior, looked at his son with anger clear in his eyes and, never once breaking eye contact with his only child, spat on the ground between them.
Draco glanced behind him to see the two Slytherins, now essentially pruned from their family trees, grasp ahold of one another's hand tightly but otherwise they remained impassive and unmoving.
"What you've never seemed to understand, my lord," Draco said, finally speaking up, breaking the silencing spell on himself and talking loudly enough that everyone on both sides could clearly hear him, "is that there are greater motivators out there than fear. I know that I can speak, if not for everyone gathered here,at least for myself when I tell you that there are things more important than power and prestige."
He looked down at Hermione, who stood tall and proud and unflinching at his side as she clasped his hand firmly. He reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear that had escaped from the confines of her braid.
"Love is greater than anything you can threaten us with, and that is what we fight for today. Love of family, love of friends. Turns out," he added, looking back at the monster that stared at him with hatred shining brightly in his red eyes, "you were wrong about pretty much everything. In time I hope some of the ones who follow you will see that, as well: if not, we will take care of it."
"You see," Hermione now said, drawing all eyes away from Draco and onto her, "we will not give up just because Harry is…dead," her voice cracked on the word, but she plowed on. "We will continue to fight to the last man, the last breath, against you and every single thing you stand for."
At her words, Voldemort's spell was broken fully, and everyone gathered on their side of the courtyard began to speak at once, hurling insults once more at Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
Draco watched as Longbottom, who had been gripping the ratty old Sorting Hat that he had found on the ground when they had come outside, pulled a long silver blade from the sword. Rubies adorned the hilt and flashed in the light of the coming dawn as the Gryffindor twirled the weapon that had belonged to the founder of his house in a wide arc in the air.
He watched, astounded, as the once-timid wizard charged alone toward the line of Death Eaters. He watched as the Death Eaters stood, dumfounded, at the boy that raced their way with weapon drawn. And he watched, as if Stupefied, as that same boy swung the Goblin-made weapon in a graceful stroke downward, severing the head of Voldemort's giant snake from its coiling body.
He did it! Draco thought, looking at Weasley and Hermione, astonished, and saw the instant realization in their own faces. He destroyed the final horcrux!
The stunned silence that echoed through the courtyard lasted only a moment before it was shattered again, although this time by something even more wholly unexpected than what had just come before.
Hagrid gave a grunt and they all watched as Potter fell from his arms. For a moment Draco thought that the half-giant had dropped the dead body of the Chosen One. He watched, bewildered, as the Boy Who Lived rose to his feet, determination written on every line of his face. And he heard the wrathful scream of Voldemort as he realized that he had been wrong…
Harry Potter still lived.
Hope you all enjoyed!
sbz