Chapter Eighteen: Taking Back My Life

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I suppose it's odd, in a way, that things turned out like they did.

I never wanted to be the villain, the part of the hero always seemed a better role to me.

The villain was always killed in the end.

It was never quite the same in the stories if the villain did get away in the end. It left a unsatisfying feeling in the pit of your stomach.

But I was nobody's hero.

I was born a villain.

It took almost killing my son to make me see that.

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It acted as a catalyst. The letter. The disappearance of Draco. The Slytherin's presence in the house. It just...collided.

Draco had been asleep for barely more than a few hours, curled up beside Severus who had vaguely acknowledge his return by hoisting an arm across the male's chest. It was not a gesture out of love, or gratitude he'd returned, but a warning not to leave again. Almost completely pinned to the bed, Draco had time to think.

"I promise I'll save you." How odd. A hero's statement, coming from the most unlikely (for Draco anyway) hero's mouth.

Ah, but the golden question still stood the same. Could Harry Potter save Draco Malfoy? He doubted it, but he had no choice. If he didn't believe in potter, he didn't know who he could believe in. Not the Dark Lord. No. Whenever one was begging for the Dark Lord's gaze, all Draco wanted to do was hide.

He was a Slytherin. He didn't want to beg, to plead, to grovel to be noticed by some disgusting villain painting himself a hero.

"You are thinking loudly."

The dry voice cut the silence in the room sharper than any knife could and Draco glanced across the bed at the other man. He was pale, but a healthy colour was returning to his cheeks and his eyes, once dull, now showed life that hadn't been there before.

Draco frowned and began thinking hard on one phrase, and Severus snorted. "Foolish boy. I cannot read your thoughts, merely the images of your mind." He raised a somewhat wobbly hand and rapped his knuckles on the blond's forehead sharply. Draco winced and jerked away, scowling at the elder Slytherin.

"Just checking. I wouldn't put it past you to gain super-human powers without informing me," Draco sneered, but rolled over so he was closer to the body heat.

"I'll be sure to inform you if that happens."

Draco smirked to himself, as he rested his hand on the bed, scant inches from Severus' side. He could have stretched his fingers out, brushed against the other man's side, but he didn't. This wasn't about touching, it was about...company.

Severus hadn't asked where Draco had been, some how knowing that he would balk if asked without being ready. Draco had left the letter with Potter, pretending that he hadn't cared but desperately wishing he had kept it. It would be so much easier to simply show Severus the letter instead of having to formulate an explanation.

"Father contacted me."

The simple phrase seemed to freeze the room, and Severus tensed so fast that Draco feared he would snap.

"Oh?" It was like silken steel, sharp and biting as Severus forced it out.

"He wrote..." Draco paused, as if he were trying to remember the words. He wasn't. He knew each word off by heart, without a doubt, and even backwards if must. HE was simply trying to find the strength to stop his voice from wobbling as he feared it might.

"'Do not tickle a sleepy Dragon.

Red eyes watch for you.

Silver eyes protect you.

Green eyes will save you,

and death follows swiftly those with eyes of blue.' "

Silence followed, and for a moment, Draco wondered if Severus had fallen asleep, but didn't raise his eyes from the poor thread count of the Weasley's sheets.

"The family motto," Snape finally acknowledge, and Draco nodded, having recognized the first line as well. Of course, the saying was in latin and was actually 'do not tickle a sleeping dragon' not a sleepy one, but when Draco had been younger, he had always said 'sleepy'. Perhaps it was his father, trying to reconnect with the boy he had been all those years ago?

Severus skipped over the 'red eyes' because they both knew who that was, and neither needed reminding. "Silver eyes..." he trailed off, and Draco smiled, almost bitterly, as he knew the tone of disbelief.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Draco said, and felt Severus rest a hand at the nap of his neck, not exerting pressure, just...resting there. A comfort. They both knew Lucius cared little for his son, now less than ever.

The rest of the note's words was left in silence, because they both knew what they'd mean.

"Potter says he'll save me," Draco blurted out, after moments had passed in crisp quietness.

"Do you believe him?"

"No." Draco slumped into the bed. "But you have to admit, it's a nice thought."

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Draco had only just drifted back to sleep when the whole house seemed to quiver. It started at the bottom floor, and each floor further up it seemed to grow in intensity. Their bedroom was on the top floor, and it seemed to rumble like a lion. Fitting for a house full of Griffendor's, Draco had the time to think dryly before he launched himself out of bed.

The sky outside was lit with red and Draco knew what was happening. Without a single scan, or touch to the wards, he knew.

He took the stairs two at a time as he raced down towards the first floor, pushing passed the immediate order members who had stumbled from their rooms, wands bared. He hadn't heard Severus call for him to wait, before he had even left the room.

He heard Potter call for him too, when he had reached the bottom of the final stairs, and thrown himself at the front door. It was terrifying, the thought as he yanked the front door open, afraid of what he'd see.

Outside, just outside the wards, a sea of black swarmed around them. Their robes flapped in the wind that roared around them, the sky painted a bloodied red that seemed to seep into everything, tainting it.

Draco's breath caught in his throat, even as Potter grasped his shoulder and yanked him back, slamming the door and forcing Draco back into the safety of the Burrow, away from the black and red.

"What do you think you're doing? Get back upstairs! You don't even have a wand!" Potter pointed out, his voice harsh as he pushed the blond back towards the stairs. Several order members spared him passing glances, but they were busy, scurrying around the house like rats. There was something awkward and restless about their movements, and utterly useless.

"You'll never beat them," Draco said, his voice dull.

Potter's eyes widened, and he seemed to shrink, but seemed to push aside whatever thoughts had caused that bout of insecurity. "Get upstairs! Stay hidden. They won't get close to the house, but if they do, take Snape and just GO."

He gave him one final shove towards the stairs and then seemed to blend in with the chaos that formed the house.

Draco didn't go upstairs.

The Order would never beat the Death Eaters. They had to outsmart them.

Draco knew just the thing that would do it.

He slipped into the chaos, blending in just as easily as Potter. No one even noticed him slipping out the back door and into the darkness.

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"Harry!" Hermione cried, launching herself into his arms as they finally came together as a group in the swarming order. "They're everywhere!"

"You'll never beat them." Harry heard in his head, a moment of dread even as he clung to his best friend. Ron stood nearby, and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder, looking faintly ill.

"We have to fight them. We can't run, there's too many of us," Harry said, finally releasing the muggleborn. "Does the Order have a plan yet?"

"Nah mate," Ron admitted. "We were kinda waiting on, well, you for that."

Right.

Hero of the wizarding world. Time to form a plan, but Harry could see no way of winning.

"You'll never beat them."

He shook his head, and clenched his hands. "Let's find your Ma, okay?" He said to Ron and they moved quickly, spotting the heavy-set form of Mrs. Weasley easily through the crowd. She spotted them first, really and raced towards them, swinging her arms around them in a group hug.

"You stay here!" She told them firmly when she pulled away. "You are not to fight. You're children still, you hear me?"

"There are too many of them," Hermione started.

"You'll need all the help you can get," Ron pointed out.

Harry resisted the urge to snort. "Children?"

Molly stared at them, and her shoulders sagged. "Be careful," she told them. "We're going out fighting. We're just passing the word around now, and soon we'll...head outside."

It seemed too sudden. Too rushed. There was no reason, it was just...an attack for the sake of attacking. They weren't prepared, damn it! They hadn't gotten rid of the horcruxes yet! Volvemort wasn't even out there, in the battle field. Harry would have known if he was, but he wasn't, the coward!

"Harry!" Hermione broke into his thoughts. "We have to get ready. We're...going out soon!" She seemed to hesitate, her voice wavering. Violence was not in her nature, and Harry could see her resolve shaking.

"You don't have to-"

"We're fighting with you, mate," Ron cut in. "We've come this far with you, we're not backing out now."

"Of course we're fighting with you, Harry," Hermione assured, giving him a brave smile. "Let's go."

She grabbed Ron's hand, linking their fingers, and looping her arm through Harry's, so she still kept hold of her wand. They were armed. They were together and damn it, they were going to take down some Death Eaters, or go down trying.

Not that the last option was actually going to happen. Harry just wouldn't, couldn't, let it happen.

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The roar of battle was deafening. There was thirty Order members to well over a hundred Death Eaters but the Order had the house wards on their side, which was being fueled by their magic to keep them strong, or as strong as they could be under the circumstances.

It was a fury of curses, hexes and the occasional Unforgivable, from the Death Eaters of course. Harry counted five Order members seriously injured, and it seemed like it was only going to get worse.

Breathing heavily, and utterly alone, having lost sight of Ron and Hermione in the heat of the battle, Harry stared at the wall of black that seemed endless outside of the wards.

"You'll never beat them."

It was impossible. There was too many of them. They should have run.

Harry was almost hysterical, and squeezed his eyes shut, even as hexes were flung his way. Was this how it was going to end?

Silence fell in the battle field. The flashes of curses stopped.

Everything was still.

Harry opened his eyes, expecting to see the snake-face of Voldemort, but instead saw an unmoving mass of black. Staring at something over Harry's shoulder. Turning,as many of the Order was doing the same, Harry gasped.

Dumbledore, eyes twinkling and hands folded neatly in front of him, no wand in sight, stood by the burrow.

"What silliness is this," Dumbledore remarked, gliding forward elegantly. Harry could have been pushed over with a feather, as could most others in the battle field. "Go," Dumbledore waved at the Death Eaters. "Tell the Dark Lord that this battle is useless. He won't win."

Something was wrong.

The Dark Lord? Dumbledore would call him Tom. Tom, to remind him of his human past. Why had he said the Dark Lord?

A shattering sound of cracks came from outside the wards,and Harry swung back around, as the Death Eaters seemed to follow the order. They disaparated, voices merging in horror as they fled from the Boy-Who-Lived and the Man-Who-Came-Back-From-The-Dead. It was almost as big a shock for them as it was for the order.

What a pair they make, Harry thought, with a bubbling hysterical laugh building in his throat. Only a few black robes remained, and they raised their wands, aiming at Dumbledore now. The Order quickly retaliated, and raised their own wands, ready to defend themselves and their returning leader.

"Sectemsempra!"

The familiar curse burst from one of the robed figures, in a familiar voice that sent shivers down Harry's spine. It missed the order members, and Harry, and even Dumbledore. Harry, for a moment, thought it had been a misfire, but heard a gargled noise behind him, and spun back towards the burrow.

Draco Malfoy was falling, blood spurting from his chest, the Weasley shirt he wore now torn in places to reveal heavy cuts. It was the second time the curse had hit him. He had been hidden partially behind a bush.

Harry barely recognized the cracks of the last Death Eaters apparating away. All he saw was Draco hitting the ground and the image of Dumbledore wobbling. The image shimmered, and began to fade. Even the fake Dumbledore looked saddened by this, as the image crumbled away, disappearing into thin air.

In the silence that followed, Harry opened his mouth and could do only one thing.

"SNAPE!" He roared, like the Griffendor he was, his voice shattering the silence.

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Harry had fallen to his knees beside the prone body of the blond Slytherin, as other crowded closer, staring in disbelief as a puddle of blood formed around the figure.

"Harry," Molly whispered, sounding horrified, but was cut off from saying more by the front door slamming open. Before people could react, they were being shoved aside as the sweatpants-Weasley-shirt clad former professor pushed through. He was wobbling on his feet and his dramatic movements were lost due to his lack of robes.

"Severus," Remus hissed, eyes wide with disbelief as he watched his old school mate fall to his knees beside the body of his student.

Snape had no interest in the crowd which gaped and stared at him. "Potter!" He held out his hand and Harry hesitated, before passing over his wand, which protested horribly at being used by any other person than it's master, Harry.

The soft, melodious spell slipped from Snape's mouth as he dragged Potter's wand across the heavy cuts formed in the chest of the blond, acting quickly. They began to merge and the bleeding was stopping, but the wand was protesting more and more as the spell went, and Harry didn't know how long it would hold out for.

Snape healed the deepest cuts first, returning to the shallower ones after the deepest had been dealt with, for fear that he would not get the chance to heal them all with Potter's wand. The prediction came true, as Potter's wand began to spark and Snape quickly finished the spell, tossing the wand back at Potter before bending over Draco.

He checked the boy's breathing the muggle way, and checked his pulse, to make sure his heart still pumped as it should.

Content that his student would live, Snape raised his gaze to the crowd which stared at him in disbelief and a great deal of horror. The sky, formerly red, was now bathed a soft glowing pink as the sun rose on the horizon.

Arther, who had taken on far too much of Dumbledore's personality since his death, cast Severus a smile and announced, "goodmorning!" Stunning the rest of the crowd with ease.

Harry choked out a laugh, and was unaware of the hand he had pressed against Draco's chest, so that he could feel his school-hood enemies heart beneath his palm.

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"It is done, my lord. Dumbledore's image was merely a illusion. The creator of such a idiotic trick has been disposed of."

A low chuckle was heard, insanity tinging it's pitch. "Let me see." Lord Voldemort raised his wand, pointing at the skull of his loyal follower, and he thought that with great distaste. "Legimens."

Blood spilling from the chest of the teenage boy, his body crumpling to the ground and the image of Dumbledore wavering, crumbling, falling apart.

Voldmort tossed his head back and laughed, long and loud. "Well done, Lucius. You have proven yourself a worthy follower. Killing your own son, I must say, not even Bella would be that...cold." Voldemort's face was twisted into a disgusting smirk.

Lucius bowed his head, staring at the edge of his master's robes. "Thank you, my lord. I only wish to serve you. Family...means nothing. It is only blood."

"Fetch a muggle, Rabastan. Tonight, we celebrate."

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Author's Note:

I am horrified at myself for the unplanned hiatus that this story took, but I am determined to finish this story. This year has been tough and I've had some issues which stopped me from writing, but I'm slowly weaning myself back into fanfiction.

Please be patient with me while I attempt to sort myself out.

Thank you so much for the reviews for the last chapter, they mean a lot to me. I hope my loyal readers are still interested in this story.

Reviews and feedback are very much loved,

-Liaa