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"Did you know," started Theo, sitting down on one side of Astoria, "that forms of gingerbread have been around Europe since the 11th century?"

"Did you know," Astoria replied without missing a beat, "that you sound like Fred and George when you talk to me like that? And historically, that kind of talk has always been a precursor for trouble."

Theo laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. It is Christmas, the elves are serving an army of gingerbread people today, and I, for once, have done my history homework."

"Binns teaches the history of cooking now?"

Theo just shook his head. "It is baking, my dearest Astoria, not cooking."

Astoria rolled her eyes. "Again, my dearest Theodore, you sound like the twins."

"Legend traces gingerbread men back to Queen Elizabeth I," continued Theo, as if he had not heard Astoria at all, "who supposedly had her cooks mold the pastry into the shapes of her favourite courtiers."

Daphne sat down opposite of Astoria. "That is true. It is also said that if you eat a "gingerbread husband" you are going to marry him."

Astoria groaned. "Not you as well."

She just shrugged. "I'm glad you are here today, Tori. I was worried you'd be spending all of Christmas in the Hospital Wing."

Astoria glanced at Theo, then back at her sister. She'd spent the last two days in the Hospital Wing with a high fever, as she often did, but she hated it when people drew attention to it. "It was just a minor cold, nothing big. I feel fine now."

Her sister reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. "I'm glad to hear it."

One after the other, the big table in the middle of the Great Hall filled with the few sad souls who had decided to spend Christmas at Hogwarts. All the other house tables had been moved against the walls.

Christmas spirit was definitely thin on the ground in the Great Hall this Christmas dinner. The odd combination of people sitting at the table did not improve matters. Professors Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Amycus, and Alecto Carrow were there, along with Filch. Then there were the two Greengrass sisters, and Theo. There were only three other students, two extremely nervous-looking Ravenclaw first years and a sullen-faced Slytherin sixth year.

Astoria wondered whether Snape would say anything. She was certain, even though she had only spent Christmas at Hogwarts once, and then it had been rather out of the ordinary because of the Yule Ball, that Dumbledore would have given a speech.

Snape cleared his throat, about to stand up, when McGonagall just said, "Merry Christmas," and plate upon plate appeared in front of them. Certainly more than the few of them could possibly eat.

Snape sank back into his chair, a relieved sigh escaping him.

Amongst the food, Astoria spotted several plates full of gingerbread men and women. She eyed them skeptically, but Daphne reached for one without hesitation. But before she could bite the biscuit's head off, it started to move.

"What the-"

The little gingerbread man started to twist and turn until Daphne lost her grip on it and it landed on the table.

Astoria tore her gaze away from Daphne and towards the plates of gingerbread people. They had all started to move, struggling to stand up on their delicious legs.

For a second, everyone at the table just stared at the tiny creatures. Then all hell broke loose as they stormed towards the Carrows, some grabbing forks, and knives on their way to the end of the table. Once at the edge, they jumped right at them, attacking them with cutlery and the occasional bite.

The Carrows jumped up in terror, both drawing their wands, sending stinging hexes at each other.

"Ow! You hit me!"

"Shut up – you hit me!"

They kept sending hex after hex at each other, never actually managing to hit any of their targets, their faces harder and harder to recognize below the swelling their hexes were causing.

The other teachers observed the spectacle in what seemed to Astoria like quiet amusement. Theo was laughing like a maniac.

"An army of gingerbread people, huh?"

"I don't," Theo managed to get out, "know what you are talking about." He wiped away a tear.

Astoria shook her head, a mild headache forming behind her eyes.

Daphne had meanwhile managed to capture one breaded soldier and had made no prisoners, already chewing on the poor fella's arm.

"What?" Daphne asked between bites. "Don't look at me like that. They are animated, not alive. And I'm hungry."

Quite suddenly all the gingerbread people stopped mid-motion, returning to their natural state of non-animation.

Astoria looked towards the teachers. Snape had his wand in his hand and had probably cast a Finite.

"Bloody hell, Snape! Why didn't ya do that earlier?" growled Amycus.

"Headmaster," he snapped, giving him a cold, contemptuous glare. "I trust you'll remember that the next time you choose to address me. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to be put on probation?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, wouldn't I? I don't like threats, Amycus. Just as you wouldn't like it if I were forced to report this incident to the Dark Lord."

"Go ahead," he crowed, though his face had gone pale. "Tell him!"

"Tell him that you lack the ability to keep even a handful of students under control? Or that clearly, you're unable to cast a simple Finite?" His questions were clearly rhetorical, as he did not wait for an answer. "I did not believe," hissed Snape, "that our resident Dark Arts expert would need help against the mortal peril posed by simple sweets. Now, go to the Hospital Wing, and take your sister with you." Then he turned towards the table. "Detention."

"Who?" asked Daphne.

"All of you," growled Snape. "Everyone at this table."

"During our precious, but oh so short holidays?" asked Theo. "During your precious holidays?"

Snape's narrowed eyes widened before he looked at McGonagall. But she just shook her head. "Don't even think about it. I might be at school, but I am off the clock."

"Fine," sighed Snape. "You'll serve a week of detention with me once the holidays are over." Then he sat down and started to eat his dinner.

"Ugh," sighed Astoria, "thanks for nothing, guys."

Theo and Daphne just laughed, ignoring the other students that were glaring at them. "If it's just detention with Snape it was definitely worth it," Theo managed to get out.

"We have gathered here today, not just to celebrate an important cultural holiday."

The drawing room of Malfoy Manor was full of silent people sitting at a long and ornate table, listening attentively to everything the speaker was saying. The room's usual furniture had been pushed carelessly up against the walls. Illumination came from a roaring fire beneath a handsome marble mantelpiece surmounted by a gilded mirror.

"No, we are here to celebrate far more than that. We are here to celebrate a successful year. Key figures in the ministry are under our control. Hogwarts… is under our control."

The audience cheered. Their joy was a stark contrast to the gloomy surroundings. The gloominess was accentuated by a human figure, which was hanging upside down above the table, revolving slowly as if suspended by an invisible rope, and reflected in the mirror and in the bare, polished surface of the table below.

Draco could not stomach looking at her. He tried his very best to show no outer sign of the revulsion he felt, trying to apply everything he had ever learned about Occlusion, trying to seem as cheerful as everyone else.

Such was Christmas at Malfoy Manor.

Draco remembered Neville Longbottom asking him if he wouldn't rather stay at school over the holidays… and the truth was, he would. His parents were mere shadows of the people he had always known. Their basement was a dungeon. Their dining room a place to torture and kill people. But what message would staying at Hogwarts have sent? That he wasn't overjoyed that the Dark Lord himself was staying in their humble abode? That he did not revel in the honor of being allowed to exist in his presence? The price he and his family would have to pay for such an affront was infinitely worse than simply staying at home was. And he was sure that once the war was won, the Dark Lord would find himself his own manor to reside in, perhaps even a palace, and he would reward his family for being so loyal.

"Do you recognize our guest, Draco?"

Draco tried not to flinch at being directly addressed by the Dark Lord. His eyes briefly glanced at the figure, which was fighting invisible bonds. It was a girl with straggly, dirty blonde hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that betrayed the terror she was certainly feeling. Her eyes briefly locked with Draco's. "Draco, help me!"

Draco's stomach churned. His eyes flitted back to Voldemort, before they settled on the table in front of him. "Y-yes, my Lord."

"For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Luna Lovegood. Many of you may know her father, Xenophilius Lovegood, the editor of The Quibbler magazine." There were small noises of comprehension around the table. A broad, hunched woman with pointed teeth cackled. "He has long been a thorn in our side, spreading lies amongst a gullible population."

The followers present just nodded in agreement.

"My father is not a liar!" yelled Luna.

Brave, Draco thought, tuning out her screams as the Dark Lord punished her. Brave but incredibly stupid. What was there to gain by defying him here? She was of pure blood. She could at least pretend to be on their side to avoid torture.

But perhaps it did not matter. She was a part of the programme. The entertainment before dinner was served.

Draco tried to ignore her, hoping that dinner would soon be served, and he could return to his room.

"I don't even care about the detention," laughed Theo on their way back to their dorm. "That was bloody brilliant."

Daphne laughed. "You are giving the twins a run for their money."

"Actually, they helped me come up with the plan. Remind me to send them a letter later, we can use that spell Sirius has shown us… Today is great," Theo continued. "It's Christmas and the Order is finally going to defeat You-Know-Who."

"Shh – you don't want anyone to overhear, do you? And they will try. There is a reason why everyone is scared of You-Know-Who. If it were so easy to defeat him, Dumbledore would have done it ages ago."

"Who's supposed to overhear us? The teachers have left right after dinner – probably joining the battle. And the Scare-Carrows are with Madame Pomfrey. Merlin, can you believe how stupid those two are? If the other Death Eaters are anything like them, it's a miracle You-Know-Who managed to get where he is today."

"Yeah, well, they know their Unforgiveables well enough."

"Don't remind me," groaned Theo.

"Everything alright, Tori?" Daphne asked. "You've been awfully quiet on your way up. You aren't still mad that you got detention because of us?"

"Nah," replied Astoria. "I'm just not feeling all that great."

Daphne stopped and pulled her sister around so she could look at her. "You look terribly pasty. Maybe you've left the Hospital Wing a bit too early?"

Astoria rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry I wanted to spend at least some of Christmas Day with you guys."

Daphne reached for her forehead. "Yikes! You're burning up!"

Astoria sighed. "Fine, back to the Hospital Wing it is."

"On your own?" asked Theo. "With dumb and dumber there as well? No way! We'll go with you."

"You really don't have to-"

"Don't be ridiculous," replied Daphne. "We'll join you and that's that."

It seemed to Draco as if the evening would never end. After they had sufficiently tortured Luna, she had passed out and was now dangling in the air.

"There have been too many mistakes where Harry Potter is concerned. Some of them have been my own. That Potter lives is due more to my errors than to his triumphs."

The company around the table watched the Dark Lord apprehensively, each of them, by his or her expression, afraid that they might be blamed for Harry Potter's continued existence. The Dark Lord, however, seemed to be speaking more to himself than to any of them, still addressing the unconscious body above him. "I have been careless, and so have been thwarted by luck and chance, those wreckers of all but the best-laid plans. But I know better now. I understand those things that I did not understand before. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter, and I shall be."

At these words, seemingly in response to them, a sudden wail sounded, a terrible, drawn-out cry of misery and pain. Draco knew only too well where the sounds were coming from – the basement, where the Dark Lord kept his prisoners. The Dark Lord would often torture them for hours, leading to Draco needing to soundproof his bedroom to have any chance of falling asleep.

Not that the wailing of the tortured were the only reason he needed Sleeping Draughts these days. Since the summer holidays, he'd had terrible nightmares. Twisted versions of events. Feelings and thoughts that he could find no cause for.

"Wormtail," said Voldemort, with no change in his quiet, thoughtful tone, and without removing his eyes from the revolving body above, "have I not spoken to you about keeping our prisoner quiet?"

"Yes, m–my Lord," gasped Pettigrew, scurrying away. Draco hated him with a passion, although he could not really pinpoint why he felt that way.

"As I was saying," continued Voldemort, looking again at the tense faces of his followers, "I understand better now. I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter." The faces around him displayed nothing but shock; he might have announced that he wanted to borrow one of their arms. "No volunteers?" said Voldemort. "Let's see… Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore."

Draco averted his eyes. This was humiliating. And how was his father supposed to protect himself now? How was he supposed to do the Dark Lord's bidding?

Draco knew that the Dark Lord was punishing his family for something, but he could not for the life of him figure out why. They were some of his most devoted and loyal followers.

The world just did not make sense anymore and asking his mother had wielded no answers. Neither had asking his friends while he was still at school. He thought back to what Longbottom had said. That they had erased his memories. But while that would explain some things, it did not explain why people were alive that he thought to be dead. And him and Longbottom being friends? Preposterous. He was just messing with Draco.

Draco's attention perked up again as the people around him started to snicker. "I have noticed that you and your family seem less than happy of late… What is it about my presence in your home that displeases you, Lucius?"

Oh no.

"Nothing—nothing, my Lord!"

"Such lies, Lucius…"

The door to the dining room swung open, saving Draco's family from further humiliation.

To Draco's great surprise his Muggle studies and Dark Arts professors strode into the room.

"You are late," stated the Dark Lord.

"Our apologies," said Amycus, "dinner with the prats took longer than expected. And then we still had some business to attend to."

"Well, looks like we've worried for nothing," said Theo once they had arrived in the Hospital Wing.

Amycus and Alecto Carrow were out cold on two of the beds, their injuries as bad as when they had left the Great Hall.

Madame Pomfrey, who had been standing between their beds, swirled around. "Oh, it's you. Is your fever back, dear?"

Astoria nodded. "Uhm – Madame Pomfrey," she carefully asked, "is everything alright with the Professors?"

"Huh? Of course, dear, why wouldn't they be alright?" She flicked her wand in their direction and the curtains closed around them so that they were out of Astoria's view.

"Well, it is still a bit early to go to bed, don't you think?" asked Daphne.

"I wouldn't question it too much," Madame Pomfrey said, walking towards Astoria. "They've been injured rather badly. I wouldn't be surprised if they slept for quite a while."

Astoria shrugged her shoulders. Something about the whole situation was fishy.

Madame Pomfrey cast a few diagnostic charms on her. "I see," she mumbled. "I will give you a few potions that you can take before going to bed. You can stay in your dorm tonight. If your condition has not improved by tomorrow, come see me again."

Astoria nodded. All of this was odd. Pomfrey has so far always forced her to stay in the Hospital Wing, usually for longer than Astoria wanted to. She had never sent her away with a couple of potions. But if that meant that she did not have to spend any time in the same room with the Carrows, she wouldn't complain.

She took the vials Madame Pomfrey had summoned and left with Theo and Daphne.

"Business?" the Dark Lord asked, standing up, his hand tightening around his new wand. "What business?"

Draco sank back in his chair, trying to make himself as small as possible, his hand hovering over his own wand.

"Oh, you know," said Amycus, "brewing Polyjuice, stealing hair, replicating that nifty little effect your friendship tattoos have, getting into this place, dismantling the wards around it. The usual, really."

The Dark Lord raised his wand and a yellow light shot toward the pair.

And then Amycus' face distorted in pain, and he fell onto his knees, his hands clutching his face. When he let his hands fall to his side, it was no longer the pallid, doughy face of the Dark arts professor that looked up at them. In its place was now the face of a darkly handsome man with fair skin, long black hair, striking grey eyes, and an air of casual elegance.

Draco felt as if he should know that face, but he could not quite put a name to it.

"Black," hissed the Dark Lord, and then Draco recognized him too. Harry Potter's godfather. A Death Eater. An Order member. Dead. Alive. A sharp pain shot through Draco's head.

"The one and only," replied Black, bowing.

The Dark Lord's red eyes wandered from him to "Alecto".

She just shrugged her shoulders. "Wotcha! That's never worked on me."

"You monster," screamed a woman Draco did not know, "you murderer!" A purple light flew towards "Alecto" but only clashed into an invisible wall with a loud pang, illuminating the room for a second before it dissipated.

But the first spell was followed by a second and a third, until the imposter stumbled backward.

The Dark Lord raised his hand before the woman could send more hexes and jinxes. "It was foolish of you to come here on your own," he said. "You have wronged us, attacked my followers in the past, murdered those who were unable to protect themselves, but we have shown mercy in letting you live. We will not do so today. You will pay for your crimes."

Black just laughed. "Don't worry. We are not alone. And we're not planning to show much mercy either."

And true to his word, a bunch of other people entered the room. Some Draco recognized instantly, others he didn't – but one thing was abundantly clear: They were all Order members.

The witch who had just sent the hexes at the imposter, was back at throwing any spell she could think of around and that seemed to spur the others into action as well. The room descended into chaos. Hexes were flying left and right, furniture was exploding, people were flung across the room.

Draco ducked down, hiding under the dining table. He was under no illusion that he stood any chance at all against the combined might of the Order. The best he could do was stay out of the Death Eaters' way, and let people like Yaxley, Dolohov, Avery, Crabbe Snr, Nott Snr, or Gibbon handle the matter.

He crawled down the length of the table, closer to the Death Eater side of the room. But his cover was soon blown, as the table above him started to levitate before it was hurled towards the Order. Draco did not see what happened to it, but the loud cracking sound behind him told him all he needed to know.

He got up. He could feel heat building up behind him and as he turned around, he saw a huge ball of flames fly toward him.

Before it hit him, it bounced of an invisible barrier.

"What the-" he turned and saw that his father had cast a Protego around him with what seemed to be his mother's wand. "Draco, get out of here," he barked.

"Where the hell should I go?" he hissed as a reply. The danger was in his house, and he could not apparate. And even if he could, where was he supposed to go?

"Draco, darling," his mother, who had been standing behind her father, had stepped towards him and held out a hand, "let's go."

He was about to reach for her hand when he heard the voice of the Dark Lord behind him and turned around.

"What -?" he cried. And then he breathed, "Dumbledore!"

Draco looked towards the door, his heart pounding. And truly, Dumbledore was standing in front of it.

And suddenly all Draco knew… was that he had to kill Dumbledore.

It was suddenly clear as day for him. Dumbledore had to die.

It was weird, really, that the old man was not dead already. Shouldn't he be dead?

But there he was. Alive. The Dark Lord raised his wand and a jet of green light streaked at Dumbledore, who turned and was gone in a whirling of his cloak. The green light smashed into an old vase, annihilating it. Next second, Dumbledore had reappeared behind the Dark Lord and waved his wand towards the remnants of the table, which turned into knives in the air before they hailed down on the Dark Lord, who simply turned them into drops of water before they hit him.

Draco did not know why. He did not know how he knew. But he knew that if he did not kill Dumbledore, the Dark Lord would kill Draco's family. It had to be him. He had to be the one to kill the old man.

And Dumbledore hated Draco. He wanted to torture him and had done so already. Dumbledore wanted Draco dead. Draco was sure of it.

He knew what he had to do.

"Expelliarmus!" Draco yelled through the chaos, and the spell hit Dumbledore square in the chest.

It took Draco a couple of seconds, just as everyone else in the room, to realize that it had worked. He had caught the old man off-guard. He held the man's wand in his hand.

He stared down at the wand, then up again. Everything had quieted down. Dumbledore was staring at him with wide eyes. The Order members were staring at him with wide eyes. And the Dark Lord… the Dark Lord was smiling.

He could kill him now. He should. But his mind was completely blank, the hatred of just a second ago evaporated.

"Give up this insanity, Tom," said Dumbledore calmly, not showing fear at standing in front of the most powerful wizard of their time unarmed. "More Order members are on their way."

"By which time I shall be gone, and you will be dead!" spat the Dark Lord. He sent another killing curse at Dumbledore but missed as another Order member had pulled Dumbledore aside, the curse instead hitting a short wizard with bandy legs and long, straggly ginger hair. He fell backward and was dead.

Dead. Just like that.

"Alecto" cursed, but quickly summoned the dead man's wand and threw it at Dumbledore, who caught it and continued his fight with the Dark Lord.

Two Order members, Professor Lupin and Black, looked at each other, before they looked at Draco.

"Uh-oh." Draco took a step back.

Thankfully, his father stepped in front of him. "Don't you dare attack my son."

"Tzz," bristled Black. "We aren't the ones attacking children, Lucy. That's your lot."

"Crucio!" Black fell onto his knees, but not for long, as Lupin sent his own curse at Draco's father.

Draco wanted to help but could feel soft hands on his shoulders pulling him towards the door to the kitchen. He turned around. "Mother?"

"Shh, let's get out of here before anyone notices."

They ran to the kitchen, which looked as if a food fight had taken place, their dinner now covering the floor and walls. The house elves had apparently left the battlefield, as the kitchen was only occupied by two Death Eaters who were fighting… Draco's Transfiguration teacher? Draco had no time to ponder this, as his mother pushed him out into the hall.

"Cissy, wait!"

"Leave us alone, Sirius!"

"Cissy, stop!"

And his mother did, spinning around to face Black, making sure that Draco stayed behind her.

"I know you don't want this," he started. "You can come with us! We can protect you!"

"You are delusional," barked Draco, but his mother shushed him with a raised hand.

"Protect us? Like you protected the Potters? No thanks."

Black's eyes were wide and his mouth fell open, but no sound escaped.

"I know you mean well, but I left my son under your protection once and we know where this led."

Black's face soured, although Draco had no idea what his mother was talking about. "I am sorry we could not protect him before. But you must know that the real Draco wouldn't have wanted this. And I don't think you want this for him, either."

The real Draco?

His mother just shook her head. "Look around you, Sirius. Your side has already lost. Who really runs the Ministry these days? Who really runs Hogwarts? I am protecting Draco, the best way I can."

Sirius sighed. "Fine." He brought his wand forward and a white light shot toward Draco's mother.

Her arms snapped to her sides. Her legs sprang together. Her whole body rigid, she swayed where she stood and then fell flat over, stiff as a board.

"Confringo!" yelled Draco instinctively, but with two wands in his hand, his aim was somewhat off, and the curse, far more powerful than anything else Draco had ever produced, blasted a spectacular hole in the wall behind Sirius.

Draco stepped in front of his mother, trying to protect her with his own body, and sent another curse at Black, this time aimed properly, but it only hit the shield he had summoned.

"Fight me, damn it!" yelled Draco, sending another hex towards Black, which he deflected again.

"Never!"

His words, however, seemed to be empty, as Black brought his wand down. Before he could react, a scarlet light hit him square in the chest, sending him backward. When Draco came back to his senses and checked himself over, he could not find any injuries. "What have you-" he looked up and saw his two wands in Black's hand. "Oh, crap."

That was it. He'd end him right here and now. On Christmas in his own house.

The man walked towards him, and Draco scrambled backward, towards his mother.

Sirius stopped in his track, raising his hands in an "I'm not going to hurt you" gesture. "You have nothing to fear from me."

"Why?"

"Because I do not hurt innocent people. Because everyone deserves a second chance, or a third, or however many chances they need. I learned that from you. And because we are family… and friends, and I will always protect you."

Draco stared at him in disbelief. "You are crazy! We barely know each other. And family? Don't make me laugh. You'd kill my aunt in a heartbeat if you could. And that is mutual."

A smile tucked at the corners of his lips. "Ah – Bella. Yeah, well, you got me there. But I'm really not going to hurt you. Or your mother. I only want Dumbledore's wand. Here, you can have your own back." And with that he held out Draco's wand to him and the world stopped making sense entirely. "Take your mother and go."

Draco looked at Black, then at his mother, and then through the hole in the wall. He could see inside the dining room – or whatever was left of it. Bodies were lying on the ground – some he recognized, some he didn't. Thankfully, none of the bodies belonged to his father. Those still alive were fighting. In the midst of it all was the Dark Lord, locked into battle with Dumbledore. At the other end of the room, Draco could make out someone with red hair – Weasley's father, perhaps? – fighting the Dark Lord's snake, Nagini, with a… with a sword?

"Protect the snake," ordered the Dark Lord, just as he had managed to knock Dumbledore on the ground.

Draco held his breath. Was this it? Was the Dark Lord going to kill Albus Dumbledore?

But a roaring, billowing noise, accompanied by a blinding light, halted the Dark Lord mid-motion.

In his effort to protect the snake, Crabbe had sent flames toward Arthur Weasley and the snake. Weasley, distracted by the flames, had let go of the sword – a mistake, as the snake reared high from the floor and struck once, twice, three times, plunging its fangs deeply into the man's flesh. Weasley was yelling in pain, then he fell silent and slumped backward, blood splattering onto the floor… but flames of abnormal size made their way towards them, crumbling everything they touched to soot.

Dumbledore forgotten, the Dark Lord apparated across the room. He appeared next to his snake, put one hand on it, and disapparated.

All eyes were on Dumbledore now, who was back on his feet. "Everyone out of here!" he yelled, running towards Weasley. He held on to him, and the next second, they were both gone.

Loud pangs told Draco that many were following the Dark Lord's and Dumbledore's lead and apparating out of the burning manor.

"Why's everyone panicking?" asked Draco, although he could sense that Black was no longer standing next to him. This was his house – he wouldn't just let it burn down. "Aguamenti!" he screamed, but the jet of water that soared from the tip of his wand evaporated in the air. "Oh shoot."

He turned around, his eyes falling on Sirius Black, who was lifting the Full-Body-Bind from his mother. "RUN!" the man barked in his direction.

Draco was about to do just that when he heard his mother say, "Sirius – there are still people in the basement!"

Black let out a string of colourful expletives. "Show me where!" Black ordered, and gone they were.

Which reminded Draco of something, or rather someone, else. "Luna," he hissed. "Damn."

Was she still in the dining room? Perhaps she had gotten out. Perhaps she was already dead. He should just leave. They were enemies. He would just risk his life for a very small chance of saving someone who hated him.

But he couldn't.

He turned around again, glancing through the big hole in the wall, into the dining room. His aunt Bella had just grabbed the sword and disapparated out of the room. Now it was only "Alecto" and the woman from earlier, fighting, and in a corner, surrounded by flames an unconscious Luna Lovegood. A probably unconscious Luna.

What were the chances of her still being alive? Of him making it out of there with her alive? How was he even supposed to reach her?

The flames seemed to be alive, sentient, intent upon killing everything in their wake. The fire was mutating, forming a gigantic pack of fiery beasts: Flaming serpents, chimeras, and dragons rose and fell and rose again.

But then he knew. "Accio broom!"

It took a while, but his broom shot directly from his room into his hands. He swung his leg over it and, with hard kicks to the ground, soared up in the air.

Inside the dining room, the smoke and heat were quickly becoming overwhelming: Below him, the cursed fire was consuming his home.

By now it was hard to make out the shape of Luna, but he could spot her ridiculous radish earrings shining through the smoke. He dove down and landed right next to her. "Rennervate," he yelled.

He held his breath. If she was dead, then the spell wouldn't work.

Nothing.

Draco was losing hope when she stirred.

"Wha-?"

"No time," Draco said, pulling her onto the broom behind him and soaring back into the air.

While flying to the door, he observed the female Death Eater from earlier flinging curse after curse at "Alecto". He shook his head. They were both going to die.

But then he could feel Luna's hand in the pocket of his robe. "Hey! What are you doing?" Apparently, she wasn't as out of it as he had expected, as she now held his wand in her hands and threw a Full-Body-Bind at the woman.

"Alecto" looked up at them, then grabbed the Death Eater and apparated away.

Draco did not know what to say. And he didn't have the energy for it, so he just ignored it.

He flew the both of them out of the manor, where they landed on the lawn.

Black and his mother were already waiting there, together with the freed prisoners from their basement.

As soon as they had touched ground, his mother had him wrapped in her arms. "Oh darling, thank Merlin you are alright. I was so worried when I couldn't find you out here."

Draco just let her hold him. He did not know what to say or do. Behind them, their home was falling victim to a giant inferno, the flames devouring the bodies of the Death Eaters and Order members who had fallen in the fight.

"You know what I am looking forward to the most?" Theo asked. They had just dropped off Astoria in her dorm and were now on their way back.

"Hogwarts being taught by semi-competent teachers again? Fewer psychopaths in the world? An area of unprecedented peace? Do tell."

"Well, yeah. All of that – man, I'm going to sound really shallow now. But I'm really looking forward to Neville and Astoria finally spilling the beans. Honestly, I've got so many questions!"

"You and I both. Tori hasn't told me a thing – I am her sister for crying out loud! And Neville's my boyfriend. You would think one of them would deign to tell me."

Theo chuckled. "You know what? That just made me feel better about not knowing anything."

Daphne elbowed him, but then laughed. "I trust both of them, though. And I trusted Draco as well. If they all think that it is safer for us not to know, then they are probably right, and we will thank them later. I've talked to Neville about it, and I understand why he did not want to tell me about his parents. And that they had to keep Snape's involvement a secret."

Theo considered this. "I get where you are coming from, but still. We were Draco's friends, too. And I miss him. A lot. They at least know what happened to him… I don't know. I just think that if I knew what happened, it would give me some closure on the whole matter."

Daphne sighed. "I know what you mean. But I don't think Neville and Astoria have any more closure than we do. I don't even know how Astoria is dealing with any of this…"

"Your sister is strong. So is Neville."

"And so are we," replied Daphne. "And Draco, too. Maybe, once this is all over… maybe we can be his friends again."

Theo just shrugged his shoulders. They were now standing in front of their dorm's entrance. "You know what I've been thinking during dinner?"

"That you are a genius?"

Theo laughed. "That too, obviously. No, I just thought – maybe we could talk to that other Slytherin who is staying at school. I'm sure there is a story behind anyone who stays at Hogwarts over Christmas. And that story might be a reason to join our Defense group."

"Mr. Nott – you are full of brilliant ideas today."

"Well," Theo smiled. "I guess the thought of things finally looking up for once inspired me."

When his mother finally released him, he noticed that the prisoners had come closer.

"You're one of them," barked an old man.

He could feel his mother tense beside him, but Draco just laughed. "Do you think I'm scared of you? You don't even have your wands."

"Neither do you," commented someone from behind him.

He swirled around and indeed, Luna Lovegood still held his wand in her hands. "Ungrateful prat," hissed Draco. His mother also had no wand. They were at the mercy of Black and Lovegood.

"Now, now," said Black, "calm down, everyone. There really is no need for this."

Luna turned towards Draco. "Draco… you… you've saved me today. I… don't know what to say. Thank you." She took a step closer and pulled him into a hug.

Draco stiffened, and when he heard a loud "Aww" coming from Black, he pushed Luna away.

Luna did not seem deterred. She held up his wand. "Here."

Draco took it.

"Cissy! Draco!" he could hear his father's voice bellow from far away. "We are leaving," he said, his voice icy.

Something about this felt oddly familiar. He glanced at Black.

"Go, if you really want to. Just know that I'll always be there should you choose otherwise." Black held out his hand. There was a little vial in it.

"What's this?"

"Post-Cruciatus potion. I fear you'll need it."

Something churned in Draco's stomach. He took the vial.

"Stay away from my son, Black," barked Lucius.

Black raised his hands in mock surrender. "Your son and wife are fine, Malfoy. You should thank your lucky stars for that, many others can't say the same."

"And whose fault is this? Whose fault is it that they are dead? That our house is soon no more than ash?"

"Yours?"

His father raised his wand at Black. "I should have let Fudge sentence you with the Kiss."

"Lucius," hissed his mother. "Let's go."

He glared at Black for a few more seconds, then he let his arm fall back to his side. "Hold on to me," he said to Draco and his mother.

Draco did as he was told, glancing one last time at Black, who had not attacked him when he could have, and who offered to help him out even though he had no reason to. Then he looked at Luna and the other prisoners who had been prisoners in his basement. Who had been tortured for days on end. Finally, he looked at his burning home.

He closed his eyes, trying to fight off the sadness that was starting to take over.

When he opened them again, his father had apparated them away. To the Dark Lord's new hiding place. And Draco knew that for tonight, there would be hell to pay.

TBC

A.N.: Wow - that was a lot of plot for one chapter. I could have fleshed out a few things a bit more - but this already has almost 7,000 words and I also wanted to post this half a week ago already. And I've listened to a podcast recently in which they said "done is better than perfect," so I decided to go ahead and post this. I hope you enjoyed it! Did things go as you expected them to? I was honestly considering killing off a few characters we all know and love in this chapter. What do you think about that? Let me know in the reviews!