10. Betrayed, Avenged Sevenfold (6:47, played seven times through.)
It was the final battle, and there wasn't anything left but Voldemort and Harry Potter. The rest of the Death Eaters were dead, rendered unconscious, or busy with the Order, the same with the Order. And it was just Harry and Voldemort. Two opposite equals, magic making them equals. There wasn't anything left, Nagini laying in the middle of their small dueling circle, the last piece of a terrible puzzle, a puzzle which took far too long to complete.
"It's you're last move," Voldemort hisses, glaring at Harry with full hatred. But Harry always saw the respect and passion in his eyes, and the way he lived this fight, reveled in it. Harry knew this because he felt the same way. It was the true end.
Suddenly, there was a green flash, unexpected in every shape and form, and Voldemort collapsed. Harry knew he was dead. And he hadn't performed a single spell. The field went quiet, not anyone dared to make a sound nor motion. Draco Malfoy walked into the dueling circle.
"I did it for you, you know," he says, as easily as though he opened a door or held out a chair to Harry.
"It was my destiny," Harry says back. "It was my turn."
"He was my entire life," Draco says. "I needed to end this. I needed this." He lowered his wand. "Fuck destiny and prophecies and premonitions. All there is is our actions. I'm not going to not do anything simply because we have to follow some complete asinine bullshit called a prophecy."
With his harsh words, the spell is broken, and the people around Harry and Draco turn to their opponents, the Death Eaters lowering wands as the Order raises them. The Death eaters flock to Draco, disbelief clear on their faces.
"Master, Master," they chant. "Lord Voldemort!" They bow to him. Harry looks incredulous. "Death is not always evil," Draco calls to the crowd of bewildered Order members and praising Death Eaters. "We'll build a new order, an order that will take down the Ministry and raise a new empire. The only question is..." He turns to Harry. "Will you join or oppose?"
"What's going on?" Harry calls over the chants. Draco raises a hand, and all of the former Death Eaters instantly still and quiet.
"Come with me," Draco says. "I'll explain everything."
[PAGE BREAK!]
"Tom Riddle is not the first Tom Riddle. He merely decided to take the name. But Lord Voldemort is the only title I've inherited. I rather like my name, actually. But that's different.
"Horcruxes don't exist. There have been many faces to Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort. Seven. They have all killed the old Master or taken over after one has died, as successor. If one of our own kill the Lord while he is alive, the victor automatically gets the title. If they die in duty, or naturally -that's happened once- their successor takes over. But being successor doesn't guarantee the Lord title. Understand?" Harry dumbly nods.
"The successor to this Lord Voldemort was my father," Draco murmurs.
"It's never been the actual person that's been important, but the title itself instills fear upon the masses. It's what kept the Death Eaters powerful. Haven't you noticed the subtitles between them? The original Tom Riddle was good at Charms, the second, Transfiguration. Charms, Potions, Hexes, Jinxes, and Transfiguration. We've all memorized them as children of Death Eaters.
"These people who taken on the duty to be Voldemort, they've never had to keep this madness going. They've just been brainwashed to follow it blindly, to keep the goal of ruling darkly alive. I'm going to change that.
"It's the Ministry that I want destroyed. I want it gone, eradicated, done away with it. I want that entire building to burn. That's the new direction of Lord Voldemort the Eighth. Their laws and so-called regulations are all a sick farce, and I won't stand for it any longer. They're just tearing apart magical society, and it makes me sick." Draco pauses, looking over the place where they've Apparated to, a dark, dank cave with sparse furnishings littering the stone cavern.
"I suppose you're wondering why the Death Eaters themselves haven't fallen apart because everyone wants the title. It's simple, really. They don't want it. They're smart enough to know that it's easy to kill Voldemort, but impossible to actually become the title. That's the difference. The rules have always been in place, since the first Tom Riddle. There have been three Riddles since then, but that's besides the point as well.
"After the first died when you came into being, his successor put in place the contest rule, and was shortly killed. But he was only around for two months before the third, and the third lasted for only a week before we overthrew him, and put in place another. The Death Eaters knew then that we couldn't just keep killing out leaders, and most swear never to kill the Voldemort who takes over. That's why I'm only the second non-successor.
"So, now that you know, what do you think? I value your opinion. I know a bit about your position on the Ministry. But..." Draco looks over to Harry, sitting next to him on a hard bench that he supposed was a couch. "I know it's a lot to take in."
"Why did you tell me?" Harry asks. "I'm the last person who should know this. You hate me, don't you?"
"I've never hated you, really," Draco says, evenly. "I hated why you rejected me. It's always been in my nature to reject things and be accepted by everyone, but you...you were completely different. It was astounding. That made you fascinating. I think we would have been best friends, but..."
"I should have been in Slytherin," Harry blurts. "I...I..."
"I know," Draco says. "I could see it in your eyes. But you would have been broken by the system of hierarchy in the House. You were better off. Just keep in mind, I've never been your enemy." Draco pauses, glancing over at Harry.
"Let me explain what I lived. I was raised in a Voldemort family, so I never knew any different. It was very natural to be in the mindset, and fundamentally, Voldemort in the very nature was never truly against muggles or destruction of the world. It was like being raised Protestant in a world full of Catholics. They're the same, but structurally different. It was...just a different flavor, but never truly evil.
"All Lord Voldemorts were like a Savior, to protect us, and we listened and we were prosperous. It wasn't a bad life. He was salvation, and it wasn't horrible. I had protective, loving parents, a good house, everything I wanted...I never saw any of it as evil. Do you understand?"
"Have you always planned on taking over as Lord Voldemort?" Harry asks. Draco shakes his head.
"Never. I had faith that you would defeat this one. He was...a true monster. He's been in place four years, since the Triwizard fiasco. I'll explain that, later, too. Lots of what muggles call smoke and mirrors.
"But, I had to kill him. He was everything, despite who he was...I didn't want to be dependent on him anymore. I couldn't do it. I needed to be the release." Draco looks away.
"I...it's strange, you know that?" Harry says, bewildered. "I don't know what to say. I go from thinking I have to kill the most evil creature to ever have walked, to...sitting by a fire with my former annoyance, talking over tea about the inner workings of the very things I was sent, trained to defeat? And why do you tell me these things?"
At this Draco looks away, into the cold fireplace. "Because I'm in love with you," he finally whispers, turning his eyes back into Harry's gaze. Harry can feel the passion burning in his eyes, and he starts to burn inside, almost like a new sun was rising right before his very eyes.
"I-I don't know when it started, this feeling...I had this feeling of aggression towards you, but then I wanted to be aggressive in a different way...that's when I knew I was in a bloody mess.
"The Malfoy family isn't about pureblood status or the procreation of the master race. It's all been a lie. I'm no pureblood. Our family's been supposedly "tainted" since...since I don't know when. Malfoy's have had Muggle blood in them since the Northern Renaissance. My father is a half-blood. My mother is a pureblood by chance. They don't care who they marry, they don't care who we love. The only reason I don't have a twenty other siblings is because Mother had ovarian cancer.
"That being said, we always know who we love before most people even think about sex or serious relationships and the like." Draco looks away again, blushing. "I fell in love with you in Fourth Year. I know when it happened, too, when you were in that lake and you had to find the one who was "the most precious to you." I remember being moody and then I realized it was because it wasn't me down in that lake. And when you didn't come up...Merlin, I was going crazy. It was making me physically ill to think of you drowned, or killed by the Merpeople or the Giant Squid.
"I knew I had to kill him to release myself from the thought of having to be under him my entire life. But I also knew I had to kill him because I needed insurance that you would keep living," Draco looks Harry in the eye and he smiles, a soft, beautiful smile that Harry had never seen on Draco before, ever.
"Why would you lie to everyone about your status?" Harry asks, ignoring his startling confession to mull it over some more.
"Because the Ministry listened to families with blood purer that diamonds, and with diamonds to back them up," Draco answers immediately. "You really know nothing about the Ministry, and it shows. That's why we needed to keep up the facade of this...farce of a governmental system. To give everyone a right. To let the people choose, really choose. Fudge, and Scrimgour? They have blood so blue I'm surprised they weren't mentally stunted from all of this so-called pureblood inbreeding. Now that I think about it, they probably were mentally stunted.
"But when I take over the Ministry, when I burn it to the ground, really, that will all change. But I need you by my side, I need you more than air, more than power, more than anything in life," Draco says.
Harry smiles, sudden and unnervingly. "I know," he says. "I know now."
"Know what?" Draco asks, uneasy with this jarring new turn.
"That I love you," Harry says. "I guess I've always known it. Since...since probably Third Year. Buckbeak? There was just a little second, before this thirteen-year-old mindset that you damn well deserved it, that...that you were hurt. It scared the hell out of me, when you were on the ground, and there was blood. I wanted to hold you close and take away all the hurt and protect you from...everything. But I've ignored it, but I've jumped at the chance to get in a row with you. It was subconscious, but it was there, clearer than anything." Harry moves closer to Draco.
"It was just a matter of time before I realized it," Harry says to Draco, putting a hand on his. "Just a matter of something triggering all of...all of this reevaluating." He kisses Draco then, gently, soothingly, and Draco smiles into the kiss.
"Now, where do we begin?" Harry asks, breaking away.
"Begin what?" Draco asks rather stupidly.
"Joining the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix," Harry says, and grins.
"How do we begin taking down the Ministry?"