Draco woke up alone in his bed. Raising a hand to ward off the light shining through the windows, he looked around blearily. His memory of the previous night had gaps but he was pretty sure that he and Bones had both crashed in here after leaving the portrait hall. He rolled off the bed, gaining his feet more steadily than he had expected.

Pansy was in the dining room with Nott. Draco wondered whether she had seen Bones yet. From the resigned expression on Nott's face, she knew something. Draco was about to back up and look for Bones elsewhere when Parkinson turned around. Her eyes were always hard; but today her expression matched.

"Hufflepuffs, Malfoy?" she drawled and Draco could tell from the coldness of her tone that she would not forgive this easily. "I thought that you were over that rather plebeian phase of yours." Pansy was not good at concealing her emotions. Draco could feel the fury in each word she uttered; and he was far too hung over for this conversation.

"Is there coffee?" he asked. Reaching out, Nott pushed a steaming mug towards him on the table. Draco took it gratefully. After he had taken a sip, he set it back down. Running his index finger around the lip of the mug, he considered Pansy's comment. "She wasn't ever a phase," he said finally.

Pansy laughed. "She wasn't ever a phase for you," she said, her tone agreeable even if it was still coated in anger. "You were a phase for her. Her little rebellious fling before she settled into her staid Hufflepuff life. You're not meant to get attached to the girls who are using you to annoy their parents, Malfoy."

Something clattered in the doorway and the three spun toward it. Bones was leaning against the door-frame, pulling her boot on. "There's been an attack," she said. "I have to go." Her robes were still crumpled from having been slept in and she looked tired; not at all ready for battle.

Draco put his mug of coffee down and Theo stood up. It was Pansy who spoke. "We're coming with you."

And because Slytherins had learnt to stay together during the war; and had relearned it afterwards, many of the people who were still at Malfoy Manor came with them.

They arrived to find the world burning. Bones was moving before Draco or the other Slytherins had recovered from the Apparation; casting hexes with a frugality of movement that Draco had never seen in another witch or wizard. There was no flourish at all to her motions. Having taken no more than five steps, she had already brought two Death Eaters and a werewolf down.

She could take care of herself though; Draco's friends were not in the same situation. Only Pansy and Theo had actually fought during the war. The others had helped, but had never stood on the front lines. Draco had to stay with them.

Death Eaters and a pack of poorly dressed people that Draco recognised as werewolves surrounded the incredibly ugly building that Draco had to assume was the Weasley's home. There were spells crackling in the crisp winter air; and from the smell of them Draco could tell that they were Anti-Disapparation spells.

Motioning for the others to spread out, Draco went forward.

"There's Dementors," said Pansy. She wasn't afraid; she was telling him because he hadn't realised it yet.

He looked around, not seeing anything, but there was a familiar sort of feeling in his chest of happiness being leeched that he hadn't considered until Pansy had figured it out. He nodded curtly. Dementors were the least of their worries. With the rest of Bones' team trapped inside, they were facing experienced Death Eaters and werewolves almost alone. Draco had been a spy during the war. He could lie and cheat but his fighting skills weren't as honed as they could have been and Pansy could duel but she didn't come close to Bones.

Of course, he had under-estimated Bones. Slipping under, jumping over, dodging around hexes; she had headed straight for the front door of the Burrow. If she spoke, Draco didn't hear it, but the door and some of the Weasleys' wall shattered once she was close enough. And, as though they had been waiting for just that moment, Hermione, Fleur and the twins Apparated out onto the grounds as soon as the wards holding them in collapsed.

Almost two full beats later the other Weasleys and Potter Apparated amongst those already fighting on the grounds, as though they hadn't known Bones well enough to know that she'd get them out.

Once they were out, Bones was Apparating about, snapping in and out of groups of Death Eaters and staying close to Harry Potter. He was the focal point of the fight suddenly; and Draco wished that he wasn't quite so stoic about the whole thing.

Potter used flourish in his casting; his magic was strong enough that he could afford to. It worked for him; scaring those he was fighting and giving him an edge. With Bones working so closely to him, deflecting curses and moving them and guarding everything that Potter couldn't, they were close to unstoppable and Draco wished that he had the time to watch them.

But there were werewolves to fight and the Dementors were throwing themselves at his weakest Slytherins; Death Eaters were everywhere. Draco hadn't thought that so many remained.

Then suddenly all of the Death Eaters Disapparated; leaving Draco staring around himself. Bones and Potter had been pushed away from the group, almost to the edges of the forest. Neither looked hurt. Smiling, Draco took a step towards them. The look on Bones' face stopped him. She looked as though she was ready to hex anything that came within an inch of her; face strained and hand clenched on her wand.

Potter relaxed and stretched his shoulders, twirling his wand casually.

Then in a motion so swift that no one could have prevented it, a Dementor burst from the forest near Ginny Weasley, flying at her cloaked in its own brand of terror and misery. She had let her guard down too, and barely had the time to turn toward it before it was on her, sucking and draining.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Magic tingled along Draco's spine and he turned to see a stag Patronus charging across the metres that separated Potter from Ginny.

"Harry, no!" Bones' cry was sharp and exasperated, but Draco didn't understand it until the air around Potter and Bones glittered and a strong, acidic scent fizzled across the wind. They had been herded into another Anti-Disapparation spell and someone had triggered it.

Draco began running towards them moments after Dementors poured out of the forest and into the Anti-Disapparation area. Stupid Potter had sent his Patronus away and Bones did know how to cast one; but there were so many Dementors. Then Draco's heart nearly stopped because, instead of casting a Patronus, Bones was shielding Potter with her body and the Dementors were attacking her.

It took a Dementor five seconds to suck the soul out of someone. After it had happened to Lucius, Draco had had to know. Had to know everything. He counted now, as he ran.

Four; and Potter's stag was back at the shimmery Anti-Disapparation wards, trying to get through. Three, and Draco still wasn't close enough. Two, and he couldn't remember the curse to break an impromptu Anti-Disapparation spell. One, and Bones was screaming.

Zero, and someone, probably Fleur, cast a hex that split the Anti-Disapparation spell asunder and Potter's Patronus tore back through, scattering Dementors even as it faded back to nothing. An otter was there, as the stag disappeared, flipping about with graceful certainty, chasing the remnants of the battle away.

Draco barely saw it; every muscle in his body was focussed on getting to Bones before she fell. He didn't quite make it, but managed to catch her before she hit the ground. He was off-balance and sank into the grass, careful not to let her hit her head.

"Bones." He barely recognised his voice; it was frantic and hoarse as though he'd screamed himself dry and couldn't raise a sound above a whisper. "Oh, Merlin, Bones." She was gone, he knew she was. There was a horrible symmetry to it that meant that it had to be true. His father had been taken by Dementors, and now her. He'd spent the whole night promising fate anything, anything, if he could keep her alive. And fate was probably laughing all over again; because she'd be alive, but it had cost him her soul.

Footsteps approached and he raised his head, desolate and ready to attack anything that moved. It was only Granger. "Why didn't she use her Patronus?" he nearly shouted at her.

"She can't cast a Patronus," said Hermione.

Draco stared at her. "Of course she can cast a Patronus!" he spat out, voice ripped jagged. Only Bones could make him lose control of it like that. He swallowed and realised that he was holding her too hard and he was probably going to leave bruises. "She taught me," he said, low and arctic.

"I mean," said Hermione, kneeling down and holding her wand over Bones, casting some kind of non-verbal spell. "She can't. She knows how to in theory, but…" When Draco continued to stare at her, Hermione bit down on her lower lip. "She has no happy memories," she said. "She used to be able to cast a corporeal Patronus, but she can't now." She sighed, body relaxing as she sat back into the grass. "She's okay," she said, smiling at Draco. "Her soul's still there."

Pulling Bones up and cradling her against his chest, Draco stared into her face. There was no colour left in her cheeks; she looked like a page of parchment. "Five seconds," he whispered, not believing Granger. She was an insufferable optimist; she would say that Bones was alright.

Looking surprised, Granger nodded. "That's how long it takes," she agreed carefully, watching the Weasley matriarch check Potter. He was already moving, and Draco didn't consider his well-being to be relevant to the situation at hand. "Because Bones doesn't have anything happy in her; and she doesn't hope for anything better, it's a bit different with her. She's held up for ten seconds under Dementors before. It's like, without happiness they can't get a grip on her soul or something."

"We're Apparating." One of the twins leant by Draco and caught Bones by the shoulders, dragging her into his arms. "St. Mungo's if you want to follow," he told Draco, almost as an afterthought.

"Why would he want to follow? What are the Slytherins doing here at all?" Potter demanded but the Weasley didn't have any intention of waiting around to answer questions. He and Bones disappeared without further discussion.

"Bones brought them here," said Hermione, standing up. She held a hand out to Draco, eyes daring him to refuse to touch her. He'd gotten over that Mudblood stuff years ago, but he wasn't about to claim her as a friend or ally. He pushed himself to his feet, glancing around for Pansy or Nott.

Parkinson was there; eyes cold and slightly haunted. "Go after her," she said, voice flat. "I'll make sure everyone's okay here."

Draco had always been able to rely on her to protect the Slytherins. She did a better job of it than he did half the time. He nodded curtly and Apparated after Bones.