Disclaimer:I own nothing.

Warnings: Nothing.

Author's note: I know I have been AWOL. Life has been overwhelming, and I was too tired to be creative, but last night, some kind of inspiration infested my brain. So here we go.

Adrian Pucey - Phobos

Liam Baddock - Deimos

Theodor Nott – Oberon

Draco Malfoy – Chaos

Vincent Crabbe - Moros

Gregory Goyle - Pallas

Blaise Zabini – Pan

Pansy Parkinson - Nyx

Daphne Greengrass - Hebe

Morag Macdougal – Nike

Millicent Bulstrode - Cerberus

Elijah Harper - Cratos

Anthony Vaisey - Tyche

Malcolm Baddock – Hecate

Astoria Greengrass - Eris

Flora Carrow - Nemisis

Hestia Carrow – Hypnos

Ginny Weasley – Tartarus

Seamus Finnegan – Hyperion

Neville Longbottom - Chiron

Dean Thomas – Prometheus

Demelza something or other - Selene

Anthony Goldstien - Styx

Terry Boot - Perses

Zacharias Smith - Chronos

Kevin Entwhistle - Pontus

Jack Sloper – Morpheus

Ritchie Coote - Erebos

Colin Creevey - Metis

Dennis Creevey - Eos

Mandy Brocklehurst – Leto

Michael Corner – Charon

Stephen Cornfoot - Atlas

Orla Quirke - Lamia

Ernie Macmillan –Minos

Sally-Anne Perks – Aether

He should have known it was too good to last.

They were sitting in the kitchen, good naturedly jibbing, idly listening to the battered old wireless, the fake news to cover up the governments slow crumble. It was warmer out, the stones were no longer unforgivingly frozen to the touch.

There was a shudder in the wards, and immediately the chatter stopped. Draco rose quickly to his feet, Pan on his heels as they ducked out onto the lawn, to greet the three boys they'd sent to try to figure out where the dark lord was lurking these days. They'd lost track of him in the past few days and send Oberon, Minos, and Chronos off to find the little bastard.

Only one figure, hunched on the ground waited for them on the lawn.

Draco broke into a run, sprinting forwards, his heart stopping dead in his chest.

Chronos was covered in blood, a huge gash tearing down his face, alone his neck and disappearing into his shirt, the ugly dark red streak stark on his pale hair and face.

Pan fell to his knees next to the pale boy, hunched, crumpled on the grass, red staining his lips.

Draco crouched next to them, turning, sensing Cole's ever present silent figure following in step. He locked eyes with the other wolf, who ducked his head, and turned, running back in to find Leto.

Pan's handsome face was pale, eyes bleak, as Chronos coughed and gave Draco a despairing look. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, scared.

"They know where we are. They're coming."

Leto came, and Pan carried Chronos in after her as she rushed to the infirmary collecting Lamia and Granger along the way to help. Draco was frozen, his brain moving too fast to process. He had to tell them. They had to do something.

Lord Voldemort wasn't stupid. He wouldn't come charging in. He relished fear, he would wait a little while, a few hours, and he would also have to try to figure out how many of them there were, and how to get past the wards.

Draco swallowed. He couldn't let them vote, fight over what to do. This wasn't a democratic bloody election, they needed a boss, to resent, to listen too, or to ignore. But one thing that they couldn't do was freeze.

He made his decision in seconds, moving towards the back of the castle. This would be a true test of their interspecies cooperation. If they failed now, then they would all probably die, so he hoped that for once everyone could put everything aside and just survive.

"Willow. I need to talk to you."

Something about his tone, or his face, or Chronos' blood on his shirt must have conveyed how serious he was. She rose elegantly, walking past him, standing in the doorway, and into the hallway. Her pale gaze bore through him, silently awaiting the news that made him so grim.

"I need you to take the refugees, the children, deep into the crypts. They found us, somehow, and we think they're coming. And I need you to take the ones that can't fight down into hiding."

She measured him with those slanted, nonhuman eyes, that seemed to be able to see his every intention in their depths. "Why me?"

"You can keep them safe, you can hunt, keep them alive. You can make sure they survive without wizarding magic, and you can keep them quiet down there until it's safe to come out. You have your bows, you lot are much better at surviving than we are."

"How many?"

"I don't know. Everyone that can't, or shouldn't, or doesn't want to fight."

"Won't they know we're here, hiding."

"Please Willow. I need you to trust me. We'll lure them away. They don't know you're here, they won't be looking for you, they won't know how."

His heart was thudding, he was sure she could hear him, her unflinching gaze still not lifting from him. She nodded simply.

"Thank you. In about an hour, in the crypts, we'll use the magic to throw them off of you."

The next conversation would be harder. He slipped into the infirmary, and caught Pan's gaze. Pan rose from where he had been kneeling and gave Chronos a sort of awkward pat, and moved to Draco's side.

"I need you to do something for me, Pan. Without fighting me on it." Pan's black eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I need you to stay out with our kids, and fight a bit, get the attention of the death eaters, and then I need you to run. Take all the kids with you. Keep them together and fighting."

"Where will you be?"

"Pan. Will you do it?"

"Where will you fucking be?"

"Blaise. Please."

Pan's lips pursed at the use of his given name. "I won't leave you."

"Yes you will."

"The fuck I will."

"You will, because they need you."

"No, no one bloody needs me, they need you."

"Please, Pan. I'm asking you to do this for me, as a favor."

"What stupid bloody plan do you have and don't you not respond to me this time."

"I'm going to stay, with the wolves. If they catch us, they'll turn us over to Greyback, he won't kill us, he wants a big pack. We'll hold them off, keep them off your scent, kill as many as possible, then go in the opposite direction as you, try to lure them off."

"He won't just welcome you into the fold, I'm not stupid."

"No, but he won't kill us either, and we've all been through pack hazing."

Pan didn't respond, he was busy glaring at Draco. They stood in silence for a bit until finally Pan nodded stiffly, clearly unhappy with the plan. Draco closed his eyes in gratitude, leaning his shoulder into Pans, not protesting as the larger boy caught Draco's hand in his own. They gripped fiercly, painfully, angrily almost, until Pan dropped Draco's hand like a hot coal, and moved back towards Chronos and Leto.

Now to find the most obnoxious conversation to have.

"Oi, Potter, can I have a moment?"

Potter, Granger and Weasley were in the library, and Potter nodded, moving towards Draco easily enough. Granger craned her neck, her interest piqued, but when Weasley elbowed her she turned back to whatever book they were pouring over.

"I need you to not argue with me, and do something."

"Draco, if this is where you ask for a line of slave girls to do your every whim, I've told you time and again, that this whole Boy Who Lived deal doesn't come with those perks." Potters easy smile faltered when Draco didn't smile in return. "What?"

"Look, I need you to take whoever you need to do whatever Voldemort annihilating mission you're on, and I need you to leave. Now."

"W-what?" Harry's brows furrowed, and his chin set stubbornly.

"I need you to take whoever you need, and leave. And preferably soon."

"Why?" The tinge of hurt in the other boys tone was odd and made Draco feel even odder.

"If I tell you, you won't leave."

"Draco."

"Potter."

"Tell me."

"I'm madly in love with you, and its getting distracting having you strutting about the place."

"What? Really?"

"Oh get a grip. No. Not really."

"Draco, tell me. Right now." The other boys tone was stern, and he took a step towards Draco, his bright green eyes narrowing stubbornly.

Draco took a step back, licking his lips nervously. "Fine, I will, but first you have to promise you'll do it."

"Err, ok. I guess."

"They found us. They killed Oberon and Minos. Almost killed Chronos. And they're coming. And Granger tells me you're going to save the world, which can't happen if you're dead. So I'm going to need you to leave, and get your boy hero on elsewhere. Preferably soon."

"Get my boy hero on?" Harry snorted, rolling his eyes. "Wait. Where will you be?"

"I will be here, making sure none of the refugees die. But don't worry, I'm far too pretty to die, I would make a devastating corpse."

Harry frowned, mulishly, clearly thinking it over.

"Potter, don't make me go to Granger. You know she'll agree."

"Harry," Harry corrected sullenly, casting a dark look at Granger, clearly aware she would agree.

"So you'll go then?"

"I guess."

"There's a good lad."

"It's an awfully elaborate ruse just to get me out of your head though," Harry said lightly, turning, his jaw set tensely as he moved back to his friends, where he really belonged. Draco laughed weakly, and waited for a moment, almost wishing he could just stay with the stupid world saving Gryffindors. But he didn't belong with them and their stupid golden intentions.