DRACO
Draco closed his eyes. "Could you check out the cut above my eyebrow? It's killing me."
Theresa tapped it with her wand, muttering a spell. Draco felt his cut close up and he sighed as the pain faded. "I love you."
Theresa kissed him. The feeling of her lips on his lingered long after she had pulled back and breathed, "I love you too."
"We should probably go to the Great Hall," Draco muttered, slipping his hand into hers. Theresa nodded. They started walking. As they passed the rubble of the courtyard, Draco spotted a mass of black heading towards them. "Theresa," he gasped, pointing.
"Death Eaters," Theresa growled. "Stay here, I'll be back in a moment."
She took off running. Draco, after a moment of hesitation, ran after her.
They skidded into the Great Hall and Theresa was already talking. "Death Eaters, approaching the castle across the bridge," she shouted.
Chaos erupted.
Then a voice sounded, a voice Draco knew altogether too well. "Harry Potter is dead," announced Voldemort. "He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as well every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before him, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."
Silence had fallen through the Great Hall while Voldemort was speaking. Now it was broken by a single shriek, uttered by Hermione Granger. "HARRY!"
Neville was the first to move. "Well, we've got to meet them, don't we?" he said, and started limping past Draco and Theresa, towards the courtyard. Ron and Hermione followed close behind, trailed by Ginny and Arthur Weasley.
Draco turned and, grasping Theresa's hand firmly in his, went with the stream of people. He caught several disgusted looks, but Theresa whispered to the people around them that he'd taken down four Death Eaters, and the angry glances stopped.
Outside, the gamekeeper Hagrid was holding Harry Potter's lifeless body. Draco felt a twinge of emotion. He thought he would be glad at this, but he just felt despair. It was over.
"Harry Potter is dead!" Voldemort cried.
"No!" Ginny screamed, charging Voldemort (until her father pulled her back), while Ron gave a bellow of defiance and Hermione collapsed onto his shoulder, sobbing. Voldemort shouted for silence.
"Harry Potter is dead," he went on. "From this day forth, you put your faith in me. Harry Potter is dead! And now is the time to declare yourself."
Draco's stomach lurched. No.
"Come forward and join us," Voldemort said, "or die."
No.
"Draco!"
His father's hoarse voice filled the silence, and everyone turned to look at Draco.
"Draco," Lucius repeated, more quietly, holding out his hand.
Draco glanced from side to side, down at Theresa, swallowed. She'd said this wouldn't happen . . . she said . . .
But safety. All he wanted was for the people he loved to be safe. He stared at his parents, willing them not to do this to him. Not to choose between them and Theresa. Damn it to hell, why him?
"Draco," Narcissa said.
Draco looked at Theresa. Her eyes were full of understanding. Pain and understanding. She blinked at him sadly.
Draco swallowed and made up his mind. "Love you," he whispered to Theresa. "I'll find you. Promise."
"Promise," Theresa croaked.
Draco stepped down from the rubble he was standing on and made his way across the courtyard. Voldemort embraced him. "Well done, Draco, well done."
Get away from me, you slimy bald freak, Draco thought, stiffening. It was glorious relief when he was able to step away from the Dark Lord and join his parents. He met Theresa's gaze across the gap and they watched each other.
Then, surprisingly, Neville limped forward. Draco felt his brow crease. Neville? He'd been the brave one.
"Well," Voldemort said, "I must say I'd hoped for better."
The Death Eaters laughed. Draco kept his mouth clamped shut.
"And who might you be, young man?" Voldemort asked, approaching Neville.
"Neville Longbottom," Neville answered almost inaudibly.
The Death Eaters laughed again, and even Voldemort was smiling as he spoke. "Well, Neville, I'm sure we can find a place for you in our ranks."
"I'd like to say something," Neville said loudly.
"I'm sure we'd all be fascinated by what you have so say," Voldemort said after a moment of hesitation.
"It doesn't matter that Harry's gone," Neville said.
"Stand down, Neville," an Irish Gryffindor said instantly.
"People die every day," Neville continued, turning to the Hogwarts attenders. "Friends. Family. Yeah . . . we lost Harry tonight. But he's still with us, in here." He lifted his hand to his chest. "We lost Fred . . . Remus, Tonks . . . all of them. But they didn't die in vain. But you will," he near shouted, turning back to Voldemort (who was smiling). "Because you're wrong! Harry's heart did beat for us, for all of us. But it's not over!" As he said this, he lifted something—it was the Sorting Hat, of all things—and drew a silver sword from it, with rubies studded in the handle.
There was a commotion from over where Hagrid was standing. Harry Potter tumbled from the half giant's arms, landing with a grunt, and scrambled to his feet. "Confringo," he shouted, pointing his wand at Voldemort's snake Nagini. It ricocheted off and collided with the Death Eaters on the right of the group. People on the Hogwarts side started gasping, smiling, and exclaiming. Harry dove into the open corridor and ran.
Death Eaters started Apparating in clouds of smoke. Narcissa grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him back, away from the fighting and chaos. He glanced over at his shoulder, saw Theresa.
"Mom, Dad, go ahead," he said all of a sudden, as Voldemort was casting explosion spells at the open hall Harry was running down. "I need to . . . stay here."
Narcissa stared at him like he was insane.
"I'll find you after it's all over," Draco promised. "I need to stay. Go!"
He broke free of his mother's hands, pushed past his father, and ran across the courtyard to join Theresa.
People were streaming into the castle. Theresa's hand was wrenched from Draco's. Being somewhat taller than many others in the rush, Draco was able to look around for her, but he couldn't see her.
Death Eaters began shattering through the windows. Draco managed to Stun one before it even stopped flying around in the cloud of black smoke.
Then the crowd of people scattered into duels and Draco was fighting a Death Eater he recognized to be Crabbe Sr. "Hey, Crabbe," he shouted, sending a whirl of spells at him, "d'you know your son's dead? Killed by Fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement!"
Crabbe paused. Draco's next curse hit him in the stomach and he fell over backwards.
Draco was turning to look for someone else to help when someone slammed into him, their arm crossing over his kidneys and effectively bringing him to the floor. It was Theresa, grinning broadly. "Hello, young sir," she said, and Transfigured some nearby rocks into American footballs. "Do you know how to throw one of these?"
"No . . ."
Theresa's grin took on an evil tone. "You are missing out on life." She scrambled to her feet and drew back her arm. Her features hardened, her eyes focusing on some target Draco couldn't see. Then her arm flashed forward, almost faster than his eyes could follow, and the football left her hand. There was a shout of pain and Theresa dropped back down. "I hit Goyle's dad. Hope you don't mind."
Draco pointed at the unconscious Crabbe. "Not in the least."
Theresa stood and offered him a hand. Draco switched wand hands and pulled himself up.
Nearby, he heard someone shout Sectumsempra. It was a Death Eater, aiming for Fred Weasley, who was already dueling someone else. It hit Fred's left ear. Draco moved to take over, but the same brown-haired girl who he'd mistaken for Theresa a long time ago leaped in front of the bleeding Weasley and, like an enraged cat, blocked the Death Eater's spells with her wand. One of them was so forceful that her wand broke. Again, Draco tensed, ready to help, but the girl had it under control. She flipped over the next three spells and landed a neat kick to the throat on the Death Eater, then used his shoulders as a springboard, flipped over his head, and slammed both feet into his kidneys. The Death Eater keeled over. The girl landed, picked up a rock, and bashed the Death Eater's head with it.
"Holy . . ." Draco murmured.
"Did I just see that?" Theresa asked.
Draco saw a curse headed for her head and blocked it. "Yes. If we're imagining things, we're imagining the same thing."
"Duck," Theresa warned. Draco crouched as she threw a rock like a baseball, hitting a spell and exploding.
The Death Eaters were hopelessly outnumbered. This became obvious quite quickly. Theresa saved Draco's life several times by throwing footballs or rocks. Either her wand had broken or she didn't feel like using it.
Draco was saving many other people with Shield Charms. He liked this new turn of events, where he saved people instead of insulting them. It felt . . . right.
He heard someone scream his name. Casting a final Shield Charm in front of a house elf from the kitchens as it hacked at a Death Eater's ankle, he turned. Narcissa was struggling towards him through the duelers. "Draco," she shouted again.
A stray curse was flying towards her head behind her. Draco grabbed one of Theresa's rocks and threw it. Somehow it curved over her shoulder, up, and intercepted the curse, sending shards of rock shooting everywhere. Draco noted with satisfaction that one of them hit a Death Eater—Macnair?—in the eye.
Feeling a lull, Draco crouched to the floor, a wave of sleepiness coming over him. If his calculations were correct, he'd been awake for approximately twenty hours. That was not good.
"Draco," Narcissa exclaimed, bending over him. "Draco, come on, we're getting out of here."
Draco felt a surge of compassion as he looked at his mother. All she wanted was for him and her husband to be safe. "Once the battle is over, I'll find you," he said again. "But for now I'm staying with Theresa."
He gestured behind him at Theresa, who was throwing rocks into the crowd.
Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "Isn't she the Muggle-born?"
Draco shook his head. "Half blood. Please just let me do this, Mother. I don't want to be the cruel person who snaps at people anymore. I want to help."
Narcissa's eyes closed. "Then I'll stay here too."
"No," Draco exclaimed, rising to his full height (not much taller than his mother). "You can't stay here!"
"I need to keep you safe," Narcissa protested.
"Mother, I can keep myself safe," Draco insisted. "You can't keep both of us safe. Go find Father and get a new house in the Muggle world or something. Please."
"America," Narcissa murmured. "You can find us in America. Start east of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania."
She slipped into the crowd and was gone. A sickening feeling sank through Draco, making him wonder if he'd ever find his family again.
Theresa suddenly snatched up his hand and dragged him to one of the windows overlooking the courtyard. "Look!"
Outside, Voldemort and Harry Potter were holding their wands at arm's length, a jet of red light coming from Harry's wand and green from Voldemort's. As Draco and Theresa watched, the red light forced Voldemort's spell back upon him. He flew backwards and lay on the ground, eyes staring at the sky without seeing, his body frozen in the position of death.
Theresa looked out the window for a split second more, then spun and shouted, with way more force than Draco ever could have imagined coming from her small form, "HARRY POTTER KILLED VOLDEMORT!"
Silence fell, and everyone froze.
Then Ron and Hermione broke free of the crowd and ran out of the Great Hall, streaking toward the courtyard. Draco turned and watched as they appeared a moment later and flung themselves at Harry.
Cheering erupted from the entirety of the school and they all streamed out of the Great Hall. The tight feeling that had been in Draco's chest since the start of the battle dissipated. He hadn't realized it was there until it went away.
Voldemort was dead.