Chapter One: The Final Battle
"Survival" -Eminem
"Protego!" roared Harry, and the Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall, and Voldemort stared around for the source as Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak at last.
The yell of shock, the cheers, the screams on every side of "Harry!" "HE'S ALIVE!" were stifled at once. The crowd was afraid, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.
"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."
Voldemort hissed.
"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wide. "That isn't how he works, is it?" Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"
"Nobody," Harry said simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good..."
"One of us?" jeered Voldemort, and his whole body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"
"Accident was it, when my mother died to save me?" asked Harry. They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for Harry no face existed but Voldemort's. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived and returned to fight again?"
"Accidents!" screamed Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and the watching crowd was frozen as if Petrified, and of the hundreds in the Hall, nobody seemed to breathe but they two. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and snivelled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"
"You won't be killing any one else tonight," said Harry as circled, and stared into each other's eyes, green into red. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was willing to die to stop you from hurting these people-"
"But you did not!"
"-I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"
"You dare-"
"Yes, I dare," said Harry. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"
Voldemort did not speak, but prowled in a circle, and Harry knew that he had kept him temporarily mesmerised and at bay, held back by the faintest possibility that Harry might indeed know a final secret...
Draco's stomach tumbled as he watched Potter and the Dark Lord circling each other, predator and prey. Which was which was yet to be determined. Either way, he was royally fucked. If the Dark Lord won, and was left to reign, he would die. His mother had told him what she'd done in barely a whisper mere moments ago. If the Dark Lord won this duel, he and his family would be executed.
Potter winning wouldn't be much better. If they were lucky they'd be thrown in Azkaban. A fate possibly worse than death, with Dementors beathing down their backs at every turn.
"Is it love again?" Voldemort's voice rang out as he jeered at Potter. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him from falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork?" Draco's stomach clenched at that memory. It had plagued him, eating away at his insides ever since he'd been set the task to begin with. He told himself that he wouldn't have gone through with it, if Snape hadn't stepped in, though he didn't know if he believed himself or not. "Love, which did not prevent me from stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter - and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward at this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"
"Just one thing," said Harry, and still they circled each other, wrapped in each other, held apart by nothing but the promise of a secret to be revealed. Draco clenched his jaw at the blazing fury that was apparent on the Dark Lord's snake like face.
"If it is not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"
"I believe both."
Draco was just as shocked at that proclamation as the Dark Lord, who wore his shock on his face without trying to disguise it. Lucius hissed beside him and he turned briefly to glare at his father, all respect for the man was gone. He was the sole reason his family was involved with the Dark Lord to begin with. His mother had wanted nothing to do with it, though she'd relented at her husband's urging. Draco had wanted to make his father proud, finally, after years of coming in second to a mudblood in school, it had been a final desperate attempt to please him. And it had worked. For a moment. Draco had taken his mark with proud terror and tried to be the best Death Eater that he could be. But even that couldn't last. He'd failed at the task he was set, and though the Dark Lord had been appeased with the fact that Snape had taken care of the job, his father had not. He had been angered far beyond what Draco had ever seen.
"You think you know more magic than I do? Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"
"Oh, he dreamed of it, but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."
"You mean he was weak!" screamed Voldemort. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"
"No, he was cleverer than you. A better wizard, a better man." Potter said simply.
"I brough about the death of Alvus Dumbledore!"
"You thought you did," said Harry, "but you were wrong."
What? He'd seen Dumbledore fall from the tower himself. He'd almost been the one to carry it out. What was bloody Potter on about now?
"Dumbledore is dead!" Voldemort screamed, "His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return."
"Yes, Dumbledore's dead," Harry said calmly, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."
Snape, Draco thought his eyes widening in suprise. Snape was fighting for the light the whole time. That was why he'd discouraged Draco from getting the Mark, why he'd forced Occlumency lessons on him left and right, why he had cared.
"What childish dream is this?" Voldemort snapped at Potter, as the pair continued to circle each other.
"Severus Snape wasn't yours. Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realised it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a patronus, did you, Riddle?"
Draco had on one rare occasion. It was a doe.
"Snape's patronus was a doe," Harry continued when the Dark Lord remained silent, "the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realised. He asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"
Draco could hardly believe what he was hearing. Snape had fancied Potter's mother?
"He desired her, that was all," the Dark Lord sneered, 'but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him-"
"Of course he told you that, but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"
He what? Draco vaguely remembered seeing Dumbledore's hand, blackened by dark magic as he shook the sleeve of his robe down to cover it. Of course. Of course he was. It was why he had remained so calm in the face of his demise. He'd even asked for it. "Severus. Please," he had said. A flash of anger shot through Draco. All of that worrying and stress and crying and fixing and self-loathing and the old bastard was to die any way. He clenched his fists at his sides. Snape could have told him. He could have let him know that his world wasn't falling to shit, that he wasn't going to die at the hands of the Dark Lord for his failure because he wouldn't fail. Fuck.
"It matters not!" shrieked Voldemort, who had followed every word with rapt attention, but now let out a cackle of mad laughter. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles he they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand! Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy- I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"
Fury shot through Draco and he felt tears of anger sting his eyes. Snape dead, at the hands of the snake faced prick in front of him. Snape the only person aside from his mother who had ever told him that he was proud of him, that thought he was worth more than he gave himself credit for. Azkaban be damned, Potter better kill that fucker!
"Yeah, it did. You're right." Harry said. "But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done... Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle..."
"What is this?" the Dark Lord demanded, eyes narrowing into red slits.
"It's your one last chance," Potter said, "it's all you've got left... I've seen what you'll be otherwise... Be a man... try... Try for some remorse..."
"You dare-?"
"Yes, I dare," Potter said, "because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle."
Draco smirked as he watched the Dark Lord's wand hand begin to tremble. He was actually quite shaken, despite his steely resolve to keep the upperhand.
"That wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."
"He killed-"
"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"
"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand! I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"
"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard... The Elder Wand recognised a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never ever laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realising exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance..."
Draco's blood ran cold as he realised what Potter was getting at. He had disarmed Dumbledore that night on the Astronomy Tower. He had disarmed him of the Elder Wand, the bloody Elder Wand, and hadn't even realised-
"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."
His mother let out an audible gasp beside him, clutching at the sleeve of his robes, but Draco did his best to make his face a blank canvas as a few people snapped their heads around to stare at him. The fact that Harry had said was the true master had not escaped his notice, and he realised then that Potter actually had a chance.
Voldemort wiped the shock from his face to say, "But what does it matter? Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wan: We duel on skill alone... and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy..."
Draco stiffened and his mother choked on a sob. His father refused to look at him, staring into the distance, not focusing on anything in particular, his eyes hard.
"But you're too late. You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took his wand from him."
And he bloody well better give it back after this shite is over with, Draco thought, ignoring the target the Dark Lord had placed on his back, instead focusing on Potter. Don't you fuck this up, Potter. Don't you fuck this up.
"So, it all comes down to this doesn't it?" Harry whispered. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does... I am the true master of the Elder Wand."
And suddenly the sun appeared in the enchanted sky above the Great Hall, illuminating both duelist's faces in a red glow.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!"
They cried simultaneously, and green light met red in flurry of sparks. The Elder Wand flew out of the Dark Lord's hand spinning through the air to land in Potter's outstretched hand.
The Dark Lord fell backwards, collapsing into a disgusting heap as he was finished off by his own rebounding spell. Everyone rushed for Harry all at once, led by a head of bushy brown hair and a flaming orange mop. And just like that, it was over. For the people who had fought on the right side of this war, any way. Lucius turned to Draco, grabbing him roughly by the arm.
"We have to get out of here, now! A fate worse than death awaits us should we stay."
Draco scoffed. "What is running going to get us, Father? They'll find us and we'll be sujected to an extended stay in Azkaban, if we're lucky or the Dementor's kiss if we're not."
The back of Lucius' hand connected with his cheek bone and he stumbled backwards, unable to hide his shock. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He demanded, shoving him in the chest, forcing him away from him.
"I will not go back to Azkaban! Pull your head out of your arse and get your mother out of here! I have a few things to take care of..."
"And just where pray tell are we supposed to go, Father? Did you book us a room at the Leaky Cauldron?"
Lucius' pupils flashed steely grey and he pulled his hand back again. Narcissa stepped in between them. "That's enough, Lucius. We'll go. Tell us where." Draco glared at Lucius over his mother's shoulder.
"Get to the safe house. We will meet there and discuss how to move forward with my plan."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, you have a plan now? Well, thank bloody Merlin, because your plans always work out fucking terrifically. It's not like we're about to be on the run because you wanted to kiss the Dark Lord's arse to feel important."
He stepped forward, but Narcissa put a hand on each of their chests. "Enough, Draco. Let's go. We will see you soon, Lucius."
He nodded to her and gave his son a parting glare before turning on his heel and striding across the crowded Hall.
Narcissa grabbed Draco's arm yanking him forward, and out into the corridor. With the wards down, it was easy for them to leave without any one noticing. With a small pop, they were gone.
Hermione sat alone on the aquaduct, or what was left of it any way, swinging her legs over the abyss below. They had won. The war was over. Voldemort had been defeated. So, why did she feel so empty? Harry had wanted time alone, to rest, and Ron was stuffing his face with food in the Great Hall as per usual. She should join her friends, but she couldn't make her legs agree with her mind. She didn't want the company, honestly.
A shimmer to her right gave her pause. Her head snapped up and she scanned the area for something, anything amiss. There was nothing. She was going to have to adjust. She had been on edge for so long, always expecting something to go wrong. Constant vigilance. She shook her head. It would be a hard habit to break.
A second shimmer sent her heart racing, and she hastily stood and pulled her wand from her pocket. She had seen something. She wasn't imagining things. A cold chuckle broke the silence and Lucius Malfoy materialised in front of her, his Disillusionment Charm removed. "Put that away, or I shall have to hurt you." He gestured toward her wand.
Her grip didn't relax and she pointed it at him, eyes flicking to his left arm.
Lucius sighed and held his hands up, the sleeve of his robe sliding down to reveal his Morsmordre mark. "For Salazar's sake, Granger, the war is over. You win. Is the violence really necessary?"
She frowned and lowered her wand, biting her lower lip. She supposed not. It was going to take a while to get used to the idea of not being in constant danger. She was safe now...
A wordless Silencing charm hit her and her eyes widened in shock as her wand flew from her hand as she was disarmed. "Get her." Lucius sneered.
Or not...
The safe house was located on Bardsey Island, Wales. There were only a handful of muggles living on the island and even if there were more, the safe house would be invisible to them, just as Hogwarts appeared to be the ancient ruin of a castle. Any muggle who neared the safe house would suddenly remember that they'd started a pot of tea or become unclear on why they were trying to go in that direction to begin with.
Draco trudged up to the door and flung it open, letting it bang against the wall. "Draco," his mother scolded, hurrying in behind him and pushing the door shut. "You're behaving like a child."
He rolled his eyes and flopped into an armchair beside the fireplace. Narcissa flicked her wand at it and flames sprung to life in the hearth.
"We don't need a sodding fire in May, Mother."
"Your father will be along shortly, and you had better get rid of the cheekiness, Draco. You know very well that he won't stand for it."
"I'm an adult and I'm here against my own better judgement. He can deal with whatever mood happens to suit me or I'll turn myself in. I should have done that to begin with. This is bloody ridiculous. I don't know how he plans to keep this up. We can't hide forever. They'll send Aurors to round us up, and then where will we be? In deep shite, is where."
"Language," Narcissa snapped, narrowing her eyes at him. "You may not agree with all of your father's decisions, but he is your father and it's our job to do as he asks."
Draco snorted and opened his mouth to reply but the door was flung wide and Lucius stepped in, followed closely by Antonin Dolohov, Corban Yaxley, Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson. The latter three held their wands out, pointing out the door through which they'd entered.
"What should we do with them, sir?" Pansy asked, quietly.
Draco stood, striding for the door before his father could answer and peered out.
"This is your brilliant fucking plan?"
"Language, Draco."
"Oh, bugger the language, Mother! He's fucked us all in the arse is what he's done!"
Theo looked as though he agreed whole heartedly with this statement, but he kept his wand pointed through the door way, never the less.
Lucius sneered as Draco turned to face him. "I have just ensured us all full pardons. We have something to exchange now, and they are worth more to them than us spending an eternity in Azkaban."
"This is a disaster waiting to happen. Do you think they'll welcome you back with open arms after you kidnapped their bloody war heroes?"
"I wouldn't call them heroes."
"They each had a hand in helping Potter defeat the Dark Lord."
"As well as you did, apparently."
Draco scowled. "Yeah, well, can't say I'm sorry about that. The bloody tosser deserved to die."
"How dare you, Drac-"
"How dare I? He murdered hundreds of people. He killed Snape!"
Lucius sneered. "Ah, yes. You're favorite professor, a traitor to the cause, finally met his untimely demise at the hands of the Dark Lord. Whatever will we do without dear Severus."
Draco's eyes flashed silver with anger and he clenched his fists. Lucius gave a humorless chuckle. "Here," he snapped, tossing Draco a wand. "Help us get them upstairs." Draco looked down at the wand he held in his hand. It was his own.
"Where did you get this?" If he'd harmed Potter, they might as well Avada themselves now.
"It was in her pocket," he nodded out the door. "Let's get this over with. I'd like to go to bed."
Draco reluctantly stepped outside, pointing his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa." He manuevered through the halls, and up the many stairs depositing her body on the floor of one of the many rooms. Blaise, Theo and Pansy followed suit, depositing the bodies of those they levitated into seperate rooms. They were all blindfolded and their hands and feet were bound. Draco was repulsed. This was no better than when the Snatchers had brought the Golden Trio to the Malfoy Manor mere weeks ago. He hadn't agreed with it then, and he didn't agree with it now. Once again he was being forced into a terrible plan devised by someone else. The Elder Wand would have come in handy right about now, not that he would use it against his father even if he did have it. He might hate Lucius, but he was still his father. There are just some lines you don't cross.
He headed back out into the hallway with one last look over his shoulder at the girl sprawled on the stone floor. Her brown curls splayed out from her head, her face dirty from the battle they'd just endured. She should be celebrating with the brainless duo, reveling in the colossal win they'd brought about. Instead she was unconcious and bound on the floor of an old house on a desolate island, being held hostage by the people that fought against her in the war. People who were trying to save their own skins by using her and her friends as bargaining chips for their lives and freedom.
He slammed the door shut, murmuring incantions over it so that she wouldn't be able to come out even if she found a way to remove her ties. Finally he used a locking spell and a muffling spell and stepped back away from the door.
Blaise and Pansy walked toward him cautiously, hand in hand. Theo hung back a bit.
"What are you lot doing here?" Draco asked, tucking his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
"Your dad threatened to Imperio us unless we helped him get those four out of the castle. I'd rather keep my own free will than be his bloody puppet." Theo scowled.
"You do realise you're now essentially his puppet any way." Draco smirked, arching an eyebrow at him.
"Yeah, well. At least I can think for myself, even if I can't refuse. He isn't taking my mind away from me."
Draco scowled. "You should have let him Imperio you. When we're caught, and yes I said when," He clarified when Pansy opened her mouth to question him," because we will be caught. When we're caught, you lot would have gotten off. Now you'll go down with the rest of us."
Blaise held his chin up. "We all know you hate this just as much as we do, Malfoy. "
Draco shrugged. "Doesn't matter what I think. I'm here, aren't I? When this goes to shite, I know my fate. It's no more than what I deserve for some of the things I've done. What're a few more docks on my roster going to hurt?"
Theo shook his head in exasperation. "We wanted to be adults so badly and now look at us. Just fucking look at us. Wrapped up in the plan of a phychotic cock munch, no offense, Draco," he added, grinning at his friend, "possibly on the verge of spending the remainder of our lives in wizard prison."
"On the bright side, we don't need to pass our NEWTs." Blaise said, grinning a bit as Draco rolled his eyes at them. Once again, his father was fucking up his life, involving his friends in half cooked schemes and not giving a second thought to their fates should he fail.