Surviving Malfoy _ Part II : Anger and Depression

Alt-J 'Breezeblocks' – Please don't go.

Chapter 31:

Evacuating the students takes almost the entire hour we have. Apparating back and forth between the Hog's Head and the Burrow does nothing to alleviate my anxiety, my stomach growing queasier and queasier with each trip I do getting the last of the Gryffindor's to the Burrow.

I sprint back through the tunnel along with the last of the resistance old enough to fight, expecting the room to be empty, but finding Mrs. Weasley in a standoff with Ginny, three months away from turning of age and absolutely hard-set on staying at Hogwarts. I leave them to it, walking instead into the seventh-floor corridor and right into Ron and Hermione, both beaming.

"The cup is gone!" Hermione says in greeting.

"So you managed-"

"Yeah, basilisk fang," Hermione waves the large fang in front of my eyes. "Ron was brilliant." She beams up at him.

"Have you seen Harry?" I ask.

"He's not in the room?" Ron asks.

"No, your mother's still in there, arguing with Ginny," I tell him. "She won't go to the Burrow and your mom won't let her go into the castle."

Ron curses under his breath and pushes past me to talk some sense into his sister. I look at Hermione's rosy, gleeful cheeks. "You're together, aren't you?" I ask.

"I think so," she grins.

I smile at her weakly. "Can you keep the swooning to a minimum, until..?"

She half rolls her eyes at me, "I'll try. Harry! We destroyed the cup!"

Harry comes running around the nearest corner. "Excellent," he tells her, stony-faced, looking down at his watch. "We don't have much time. Is the room empty?"

I give him the same information I gave Ron, to which he has the same reaction. Hermione and I wait outside, wands drawn and looking around the empty corridor nervously. It's eerily quiet for what we know is about to happen. Ginny pushes the door to the Room of Requirements open only moments later, a look of determination on her face, and runs off and away without acknowledging us.

"Ginny!" Both Ron and Harry yell after her, but she's already gone.

"Where's Molly?" Hermione asks.

"She went back to the Burrow to check on the students. We sealed the tunnel behind her, it should be empty now. It's in the Room of Hidden things, right?" Harry asks me.

I nod, "I think so."

"Alright, we're looking for an old diadem, it's tarnished, it's pretty simple-"

"Hold on," I say, pushing my hand into my back pocket and pulling out the crumpled photo Colin took during our stint in the Ravenclaw common room. "That's what it looks like on Rowena Ravenclaw's bust."

"Yes!" Harry says, pulling the picture out of my hand. "That's it, I've seen it. I used it last year to mark where I put my potions book-"

"You were going to-"

"Not now Hermione," Ron chastises her.

"I put it on a bust of some old wizard, next to a bookcase. There aren't that many bookcases-"

"There's one," I say firmly. "Just one, I'm pretty sure I know which one you mean, I think I've seen it too. I got the book on Horcrux' from it."

"So, you know where it is?" Ron asks.

I hiss, uncertain. "It's been a minute…"

"Let's just go in, no point discussing it out here. We'll split up inside. You two take one side, Ron and I will take the other," Harry says.

We watch the door Ginny just came running out of slowly turn back to stone, sealing itself. Then we watch Harry pace three times in front of it and wait tensely for the door to reappear. "Ready?" He asks and the three of us nod, pushing into the Room of Hidden Things.

It hasn't changed and a shiver runs down my spine at the sight. I almost expect Draco to call for me from somewhere inside the labyrinths of clutter, daring me to come find him among the mountains of disused items accumulated over the centuries. The door clicks shut behind us and we all take a synchronised breath, the realisation of the task ahead sinking in.

"We'll go left," I say to Hermione. It's the only way I remember, towards the wooden stove at the other end of the cathedral like chamber, from there, maybe I'll remember the way to the bookcase and the diadem.

"If you find the diadem, shoot up some green sparks and we'll try to find you," Harry says.

"Likewise," Hermione responds, and we go our separate ways. I pull Hermione quickly all the way to the wooden stove. I know the bookcase isn't on the way there, but from that point on it gets more difficult. There are six different walkways leading away from the little fireplace with the oriental rug, still laying in front of it as if no time has passed since the last time I sat on it. I choose not to dwell on it too long, turning my back to it quickly.

"Which way should we go?" I whisper to Hermione.

"Uhm," she eyes our options wearily, before pointing at a path on the far left. "Maybe we can work our way from left to right."

Unfortunately, the mess in this room doesn't work in our favour. We keep crossing new paths, and eventually, when we pass the same taxidermized troll a second time, it becomes apparent we've been going in circles. I try guiding Hermione back to the wooden stove, wondering how on earth I managed not to get lost more often the previous year.

It's when we reach the portrait of a young witch, leaning against a mountain of chairs, that my blood runs cold. She holds her finger up against her lips, locking eyes with Hermione, and then points behind us. We swivel around, wands at the ready and blood rushes to my ears when only seconds later the white-blonde head of Draco Malfoy appears behind a rusty suit of armour. He raises his hands in immediate surrender but keeps his wand loosely between the fingers of his right hand.

"Granger," he says as she advances on him, wand pointed between his eyes. "I'm not-"

"HERMIONE!" It's Ron, screeching in terror from somewhere to our left.

I feel it before I see it, a wave of heat radiating from where Ron yelled, followed by a strange orange glow above the clutter and the white-hot tongue of a fiery snake slithers up the wall. Draco's face falls, eyes widening in a horror mirroring my own.

"Fiendfyre," Hermione mutters.

"Move!" Draco shouts at us, nodding for us to follow him before he dashes away back the way he came from. Hermione and I don't hesitate, we sprint after him, following the shimmer of his hair in the flames through the galleries and walkways of the burning room. It's suddenly filled with noise of roaring flames, splintering glass and crackling wood so loud I can barely hear Hermione's scream of terror. Draco bolts around the next corner, going right, but before Hermione and I can reach it, the roar of a fireball spewn out by a 10ft dragon crashes into the vanishing cabinet Draco repaired the previous year, blocking our way to him with flames so hight they reach the ceiling.

"Draco!" I yelp.

"Go left!" He shouts back. "Left past the troll, right at the statues and you're almost at the door."

Hermione grabs my hand pulling me in the direction Draco pointed. There's another loud bang behind us, but I don't dare turn around. Hermione's hand is slick in mine as we run, past the troll and past two crumbling boar statues, until the door is finally in sight. The air is thick with smoke around us, burning through my lungs and the heat is singing the ends of our hair, making my eyes water. I have a stitch in my side and my legs have gone numb, but I can barely feel it with the adrenaline rushing through my veins.

We push the door open and tumble into the corridor behind it. The air feels icy cold, but fresher than I've ever experienced before and we crumble to the ground, coughing and panting, spitting up bile and ash. Hermione is first to her feet, turning to the door and screaming into the roaring flames, "RON? HARRY?!", but all I can see are red and blue fiery beasts devouring everything within reach. I push up onto my knees, taking her arm and pulling her away from the door, away from the heat radiating into the castle.

I go against all my instincts and help Hermione hold the door open, hoping against all hope, that someone inside might still make it out. And they do, after a few more excruciatingly long seconds we spot two brooms, flying our way high above the flames. They swoosh past us into the corridor and crash into the tapestry across. We quickly push the door closed and watch it burn to ash from the bottom up, leaving behind nothing but the cold stone wall of the corridor, unburnt, safe.

I whip around. Laying in a heap on the stone floor are Harry, Ron, Draco and Goyle, the latter unconscious, the other three coughing, spitting and moaning the way Hermione and I had only a minute ago.

Ron is first to speak. "I guess that's the diadem handled," he says, and Hermione huffs out a shaky laugh, leaning against the wall hiding away the burning beasts.

"Who cast that spell?" I ask, eyeing Goyle's unconscious form.

Harry pulls Ron to his feet. "Crabbe. Cost him though." He says it so it so matter-of-factly it would have made my blood run cold in any other situation.

As my heartbeat slows again, the noises of battle start seeping into my ears from all around. It must be past midnight, there are explosions from somewhere below, shaking the walls, and cries of fury and fear from far away, sounding strangely muffled from this high up. But it doesn't last long, a moment later we hear an explosion much too close for comfort down the corridor.

"Right," Harry says. "Come on." And we leave Crabbe and Draco laying on the stone floor, paying them no mind as we rush down the hall towards shrieked spells and flashes of duelling.

We find the twins and who I presume is another brother of Ron's I haven't met yet. They look surprisingly gleeful with the green and red flashes zooming around their heads coming from Dolohov, Rowle and an unknown Death Eater's wands. I'm last to reach them, I haven't even cast a single spell yet, too scared to accidentally shoot Harry, Hermione or Ron in the back, when one of Rowle's hexes ricochets of the third brother's shield charm into the ceiling, cracking it open in a flash of a purple explosion. Time seems to slow for a moment as I watch the ceiling crumble and fall in heaps of brick and dust right onto the group and I instinctively run backwards again, away from the bricks caving down further and further until it finally stops, blocking my way for several feet ahead.

I stand there, dumbfounded, the corridor eerily quiet, before I jump towards the brick closing up the corridor. "Harry?!" I yell, but there's no response. I start digging in the dust and debris, climbing up onto it to try and look through the gap at the top, but it keeps crumbling under my feet. "Hermione?! RON?!"

"We're fine," I hear Hermione's muffled voice, but she's shaky. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm okay!" I yell back. "I don't think I can get through this, Hermione. It's blocked up!"

She doesn't respond. Instead, I hear Harry's voice a moment later, "Go down. Try and find some Order members and stay with them. Stay safe, we'll be fine."

My heart sinks. I know what he means, but it doesn't sit right with me not to be there to help. But I understand we don't have time to try and find each other again, so I say, "Okay. Be careful!"

"We'll see you at the other end," Harry shouts over the mountain of bricks and I hope he means the other end of the war.

I turn away, running back down the corridor towards the stairs to the lower floors and past Draco and Goyle, still laying where we left them. I hear him groan my name when I pass, but I ignore him.

"Potter!" He shouts again, but I don't stop. "Potter, I DON'T HAVE A WAND!"

Fuck.

I stop a few yards away from him and turn around. He's leaning against the wall, cradling his left arm, silently pleading with me. I hesitate, I'm not the best dueller as it is, even less so with one less eye, we both would be safer if he just waited out the battle somewhere safer. But he's on the seventh floor and considering how much the walls are shaking, this isn't a safe place. I huff and walk back to him. Besides, I'm out of a mission now anyway.

"Fine," I mutter. "What's with your arm?"

He moans in pain and a second later, I see why. The once white shirt he's wearing is burnt away and the flesh of his lower left arm looks red raw, sizzling and blistering from his wrist almost to the elbow. I reach my hand towards it, and he immediately pulls his arm back. I look up at him sternly, he looks terrified, his hair as burnt at the ends as mine, sweaty and covered in soot. Ashy beads of sweat run down his neck and the sides of his face.

"Let me look at it," I say firmly.

Another bang from above makes him flinch but I barely register it. I reach out my hand again and take hold of his outstretch wrist. He hisses when I point the light of my wand over it. I watch as the burn slowly eats its way up his arm, consuming the skin around it, consuming the last remnants of his dark mark. I don't comment on it. I let go of his wrist, and place a bubblehead charm around his arm, which does exactly nothing as the water evaporates as soon as it touches his skin.

"Shit," I mutter. I tear off part of the hem of my sweater, drenching it in a water charm and sucking all the dust, ash, and debris from it in one quick motion. I place all the cooling charms I've learnt against the Louisiana heat on it and pour more water over it for good measure. It's freezing cold between my fingers and when I place it around Draco's arm, his knees almost buckle and he yelps in pain, but it at least it stops sizzling. I put his numbing charm over him, but it seems to do nothing against de Fiendfyre burn. He still scrunches up his face when I tighten the bandage around his arm.

"We need to get to the dungeons," I say. "To the potions classroom so I can try and fix this before it burns you up completely. We're going to run, we're not going to engage in any fighting and we're going to stay as far away from any duels as we can. Is that clear?"

"Okay," he says shakily.

"Stay close." I turn back towards the stairs and Draco shuffles along behind me. We make our way down quickly, encountering no one despite the cacophony of battle all around the castle. The Entrance Hall is wrecked, the portraits along the walls are empty, slashed or burnt in places and the Marble Staircase is cracked, with a big hole blown into its left railing. Four Death Eaters stand in the middle of it in an angry duel with McGonagall, Sprout, Dean and Neville. We slip past them unnoticed, only avoiding one quick hex that was supposed to hit Neville, and make our way through the door to the dungeons.

The dungeon corridor is completely dark and deserted. I light my wand and lead Malfoy down two flights of stairs and into the potions classroom, pulling him in quickly behind me and locking the door for good measure. I wave my wand to light the torches and the chandelier and sprint to the storage cupboard. I come back with an armful of witch hazel water, lavender root, goldenrod and St. John's wort. Draco sits slumped over one of the desks and I rush over to him.

"Show me," I say, and he stretches out his arm on the desk. My makeshift bandage is almost completely dry, and I vanish it with a flick of my wand. The wound underneath is still blistering, but has at least stopped eating away at his flesh. I pull my sweater over my head and start ripping it into long strips, giving them the same cleansing treatment as the first one. I drench one of them in more cold water, apply the cooling charms and wrap it around his arm again. He groans and finally lifts his head off the table, looking at his arm. His cheeks are an angry red and I quickly hold my hand to his forehead. He's burning up.

I run back to the storage room and dig through Slughorn's potions closet, pulling out a healing potion, burn-healing paste, burning bitterroot essence and molten antimony. I drop all four on the table along with the other ingredients, picking out the healing potions and the bitterroot. I unstopper the latter and hand it to him, "drink up". He does as he's told, whipping his head back to drink it down in one gulp and makes a face when he drops the vial on the table.

"What was that?" He croaks.

"Burning bitterroot essence," I say. "Now this," I cut him off before he can say anything else and hand him the healing potion.

He eyes it suspiciously but pulls the cork out with his teeth once he's read the label. He gulps it down a little slower this time. He sighs when he's swallowed it all and his cheeks turn from bright red to pink, which I take as a good sign.

"I've never actively healed a burn," I say. "And I don't know what Fiendfyre will do to your arm, but this should at least keep you up for a while until we can find you an actual healer."

"I trust you," I hear him mumble so quietly behind me it's easy to pretend I don't hear him.

I drop the lavender root, goldenrod and St. John's wort into a mortar and start grinding it up together. Once it's fine enough for my liking, I pour in the molten antimony and stir it all into a thick paste. I take another makeshift bandage and start smearing some of the paste onto it.

"Arm." His arm is still laying on the desk and he stares at me through the ruffled strands of his hair as I remove the water press revealing the angry burn. "This might sting a bit," I say, but I don't give him much time to prepare himself before I wrap his arm in the healing balm.

He squeals. "The fuck is your definition of 'a little', Potter?" He hisses when the bandage is tightly wrapped around his arm.

"I could just let it burn off your arm, Malfoy," I say drily. "Whatever you prefer."

He doesn't respond, glaring at me instead as I turn back around to the rest of the paste. I start a fire under one of the cauldrons on the desk, dropping the entire vial of witch hazel water into it. I wait, leaning against the desk with my arms crossed over my chest until it starts to bubble. I scrape the rest of the paste into it, stirring clockwise three times and watching the contents of the cauldron combine instantly. I let it bubble for five minutes before turning the heat down until it simmers gently.

"What is that you're making?" Draco asks when I sit down at the desk across from him.

"Cardinal jelly," I say simply. He raises an eyebrow at me questioningly and I indulge him. "It heals severe burns. The paste is usually enough for minor burns, but I doubt it'll fully heal a Fiendfyre wound," I say, pausing for a moment before finally deciding now is not the time to waffle around. "Did you do that on purpose?"

His jaw tenses, but the fact that he finally looks away from my face is all I need to know. He doesn't respond, staring down at his left arm instead, and a long silence stretches over us. I check the cauldron occasionally, but it does need to simmer for at least half an hour before I can carry on brewing, so we just sit there for a while.

We're pulled out of our respective reveries by the sound of Voldemort's high-pitched voice ringing through the castle once again, but neither of us moves.

"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately.

"You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

A shiver runs down my spine and I can feel Draco's eyes on me. He hasn't moved an inch, injured arm still outstretched on the desk between us, but the usual pale tint has returned to his cheeks.

"Do you think he'll go for it?" He finally asks quietly, eyes weary.

"I don't know," I say springing back into action, watching the potion slowly turn from pale green to a deep royal blue. Only a few more minutes.

"If you want to go find him-"

"I don't know where he is, Malfoy," I snap. "But if you want to run-"

His face darkens. "I just burnt my mark off and you think I'm going to run back to-"

"Not back to," I interrupt. "Away. Take your chance."

"No," he says firmly. "I'm not going anywhere. I don't have a wand, I wouldn't get far anyway."

"Find your mother," I say. "Leave the country, I don't know-"

"Potter," Draco snaps. "Stop."

We stare at each other until I hear the tell-tale sizzling sound of the potion. I turn away from him and levitate the cauldron off the fire. With one quick flick of my wand, I force it to turn sharply in the air once in each direction, and let it land gently on the desk.

"It needs to cool," I say flatly. "Arm."

He still hasn't moved it from the desk, and I start on removing the last bandage. The skin is still raw and blistered underneath it, but it seems to have stopped bubbling. I wave my wand over Draco's arm, syphoning the remnants of the balm off it. We wait like this for the most part of the allocated hour until the jelly has set. Neither of us speaks and I avoid Draco's eyes, glued to my face.

I take another bandage, soaking it in yet more water and applying a light cooling charm. I use it to scoop out some of the Cardinal Jelly from the cauldron and spread it evenly over the arm. Draco hisses again, but this time it's the sound of relief. I make sure to cover a few inches of extra skin around the burn before taking another wet, cooled strip of fabric and wrapping it tightly around it. I use my wand to seal it up, hardening the bandage in a stasis charm over the cardinal jelly for good measure.

"This should hold you over for a while," I say. "I have to get going."

Draco's right arm shoots to my wrist so fast it makes me flinch. "Where are you going?"

"To fight?" I say incredulously.

"No." He looks like he spoke before thinking, but carries on nonetheless, "you're safe down here."

"Malfoy, I'm not waiting around down here while people are dying upstairs," I say firmly.

"Potter," he takes a step forward, standing between me and the door, my wrist still firmly in his hand.

"I'm not letting Harry go alone," I say.

"So, you think he's actually dumb enough to go to the Dark lord?"

Yes. Yes, I do.

I huff up at him. "I have to find my brother, Malfoy. Let me go."

He visibly grinds his teeth. "Then I'm going with you."

"You don't have a wand!"

His grip on my wrist tightens until I pull my arm away from him. He lets go, pulled forward half a step, and places his hands on my shoulders imploringly.

"I just…" His eyebrows pull into an agonized frown and his hands move from my shoulders, up my neck, to my face. I hold my breath, fully aware of what he's about to do. He looks down at me imploringly and I can't help but hold his gaze. The worry in his eyes as he leans down pulls at my heart, but I catch myself in time, taking hold of his hands around my cheeks and gently pulling them away.

"I don't have time for this, Draco," I say firmly. "I'm sorry."

Before he can react, I slip past him and out the door. Lighting my wand again and make my way up to the entrance hall, I ignore the gnawing feeling in my gut. I know Draco is behind me, I can hear his steps, but he doesn't say a word and I don't turn around.

It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the light in the entrance hall. It's packed with people, all solemnly sitting around, in various states of dishevelment, clutching steaming mugs or vials of healing potions. Madam Pomfrey walks among them, handing out bars of chocolate. No one pays us any mind, even when Draco walks out behind me. I spot Neville and Theo, huddled together across the hall. Neville waves at us to come over and I start to, until I hear a rustling on the ground and, looking down, notice a swirl of dust, moving swiftly along the floor towards the doors to the grounds.

I stop dead in my tracks and Draco bumps into me, holding onto my arm to steady himself. I watch the swirl of dust push open the doors just the slightest and make a run for it across the entrance hall, dodging around Lavender and Parvati on my way out of the castle. I push the door open forcefully and race into the night. I'm vaguely aware of the limp, still silhouettes of people laying all over the grass as I frantically search the ground with my eyes. I jump down the stairs until my feet hit dirt, but there's no dust out here.

"Harry?!" I screech into the dark. But of course, he doesn't answer. I run towards the Forbidden Forest, calling his name through the night, until finally, a few feet ahead, his head pops up on the edge of the woods. I sprint faster, flinging my arms around his neck, pushing up onto the tips of my toes to hold him as tightly as possible, away from the forest. "Don't go," I breathe into his ear.

"I have to," he says simply. He only hugs me back for a moment, before wrapping his fingers firmly around my arms to pry them away from his shoulders.

"No, you don't," I argue.

"Yes, I do," he says firmly. He pushes me back a step, forcing me to look at him. "I have to go. Listen to me, I'm a Horcrux. Hermione when there's time to, but I have no other choice. If I don't die, he doesn't. Once I'm gone, you only have to kill him, and this will all be over."

His words take a moment to sink in during which I do nothing but frantically shake my head in denial. "No," I finally huff out.

"Yes," he reiterates, looking at me firmly.

"How?" I ask, grabbing for his shoulders, willing him to stay.

"I don't have time to explain," he says, and his face starts swimming in my vision. "I have to go."

"No," I say again, propelling myself forward again to wrap my arms back around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder. "Let me come with you."

"No," Harry says sternly. "No, I have to go alone. It'll be quick, okay? Not long now and it'll be over." He sounds like he's talking more to himself than me, but I try, and fail, to find some comfort in his words. "I love you. You'll be fine. You can do this."

"I love you," I whisper back.

"Okay," Harry says, peeling my hands off him again and pushing me back, until I feel a second pair of hands wraps around my upper arms. "Keep her safe."

My breath hitches and Harry is gone, disguised under his invisibility cloak. I stare into the dark trees, still and quiet, devoid of all signs of my brother. I freeze, standing numbly on the grass. My heart aches and I know I have tears streaming down my face, but I make no move to wipe them away.

"Potter? Come on, he knows what he's doing."