Draco: Phoenix Rising

[Hanna Mia Sunrose]

IN LOVE!
Eriti nunnu koht oli seal trofeede ruumis.

“Am I interrupting anything?” Harry asked dryly.
Hermione shook her head, but Draco said, “Yes. Can you make yourself disappear, Potter?”

Enivei, UUUUUUT![/color]

[Lana Marye Allen]

Hmmm, huvitavaks läheb!
Järgmist!

[Lissandra Sylvania]

Draco gets a bit of a shock...

---

Chapter Forty Four – Draco’s Surprise

They opened the front doors as quietly as possible, to find Harry and Ginny waiting for them in the Front Hall.

“All right, where the hell have you been?” Harry snapped angrily.

“Collecting Death Eaters,” Draco said mildly. “Since we were running low.”

Hermione maneuvered the levitated Dolohov and Goyle into the Hufflepuff dungeon. Neither moved as Malfoy had unceremoniously Stunned them the moment they had started struggling in their bonds. Hermione was concerned about Draco’s current state of mind—he seemed to have reverted back to his traditional icy demeanor.

They locked the Death Eaters into empty cells. Greyback watched them pass in silence.

“We brought you some new playmates, Fenrir,” Draco said companionably.

“You’ll pay for crossing the Dark Lord, Malfoy,” Greyback muttered ominously.

Draco sneered. “Spoken like a loyal Death Eater,” he said in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I am loyal!” Fenrir snarled.

“You’re loyal only to your own twisted ends and everyone knows it!”

“Then it’s lucky my objective coincides with the Dark Lord’s, doesn’t it?”

“Lucky. Too bad you’re stuck in a cage instead of out there living your glorious life, eh?”

“Not for long, Malfoy. Not for long.” Fenrir showed his teeth in a horrific grin.

Hermione paused at that and noticed Draco did the same. The werewolf sounded too confident. She made a note to tell Lupin about it in the morning.

They filed out of the dungeon. Hermione touched her face, which itched where the mud was starting to dry.

“Are you going to tell me where you’ve been?” Harry asked impatiently and Hermione giggled when she looked at the others.

“Mud wrestling?” she suggested. Ron looked worse than any of them. His arms were brown up to the elbows and much of his clothing was completely covered. Draco wore all black, but his legs had a coating of brown, as well as one arm and most of his cloak. He had mud in his hair, which had to be driving him crazy. He kept picking at it fastidiously. Hermione’s hair was so caked she felt like she wore dreadlocks.

“Granger can explain,” Draco said shortly. “I’m for a bath and then bed. See you tomorrow.”

With that, he stalked for the stairs and disappeared.

“Good idea,” said Neville, knocking a drying clod from one arm. He followed Malfoy, likely heading for the Prefect’s bath. Hermione sighed and reluctantly went back outside. Harry accompanied her, trailed by Ron and Ginny.

“I’m not sure what to do with the body,” she said. Mulciber’s corpse lay at the base of the steps. “I suppose I should wake McGonagall.”

Harry gaped. “Is he—?”

“Dead. Malfoy killed him,” Ron said abruptly. He tugged a bit of mud from his hair. “He fought a Cruciatus Curse to do it. I’ve never seen anything like it. He still would have been too late, though. If Hermione hadn’t fallen, Mulciber would have killed her. I hate to think what Malfoy would have done, then.”

“What do you mean?” Hermoine asked.

“It was amazing,” Ron said. “I never would have believed it, but Malfoy… he wasn’t even fighting. He was just trying to get to you. If Mulciber had killed you, I think Malfoy would have taken them all out without a second thought. You should have seen his face when he thought you were dead.”

Hermione suddenly felt like weeping. She remembered Draco’s words at the grave site. Looks like I really am a killer. She needed to find him… talk to him.

“So, you just felt like going out and battling some Death Eaters?” Harry asked tightly, still fishing for information.

“No, we went to get this,” Hermione said and opened the leather bag to show Harry the bracelet, remembering at the last moment not to touch it.

“The Ravenclaw bracelet!” Harry breathed. “Where was it?”

“I’d rather not say. The problem is Voldemort may figure out that we have it. Since the Death Eaters showed up, we weren’t able to remove it very inconspicuously.”

“What’s so important about a bracelet?” Ginny asked. Harry exhaled heavily.

“Just tell her, Harry,” Hermione snapped. “Our big secret isn’t going to be a secret much longer. Besides, after we take care of this, there should only be one left.”

She closed the bag and slung it over her shoulder.

“All right,” Harry said. “Ginny, let’s take a walk. I probably should have told you a long time ago…”

They moved off toward the lake. Hermione sighed tiredly.

“I’ll go fetch McGonagall,” Ron offered. “I won’t tell her about the Horcrux—that should come from Harry. Cor, I can’t really even tell her where we were… she’ll freak.”

“Just tell her we’ll explain in the morning. Maybe we can think up a decent story, by then.”

Ron nodded. “You’d better go find Malfoy.”

She blinked at him in surprise. Ron shrugged.

“He’s bitter enough without beating himself up over this scum.” He nudged Mulciber’s body with a toe. “Bill and Charlie told me stories about Mulciber. He helped kill my uncles. He would have killed us all and laughed about it, later. Frankly, Malfoy did us a favor.”

Hermione threw her arms around Ron and impulsively kissed him on the cheek. Then, she stepped back and spat on the ground.

“Why do I always get that reaction from you?” Ron asked dryly. She laughed.

“It’s not you—it’s the dirt on your face.”

Ron rubbed at it absently and grinned. She smiled.

“Thanks, Ron.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Hermione turned and went inside. A bath was definitely the first order of business. A glance at her watch showed it to be nearly one in the morning. She went to her room and tucked the leather bag under her mattress. They would have to deal with the bracelet tomorrow.

A half-hour later, clean, dry, and wrapped in cozy flannel pajamas and dressing gown, she made her way down to the Slytherin common room.

Draco was already asleep, sprawled across his bed as if he’d thrown himself there. Thankfully, he wore dark silk boxers, since he hadn’t even bothered to draw back the covers. She listened to his breathing for a moment and admired his lithe form stretched out over his blankets. She should probably let him sleep, but she felt it couldn’t wait until tomorrow. She sat down next to him and reached out to touch his soft hair. It was still slightly damp from his bath.

His silver eyes snapped open and his wand appeared in his hand at the same instant. The wariness disappeared from his gaze when he groaned.

“Granger. Did you come to torture me?”

“No. I came to thank you for saving my life.”

He blinked at her for a moment, as if trying to wake up.

“I didn’t save you—your incredible Gryffindor luck did that.”

She shook her head in denial. “You think Mulciber wouldn’t have tried again in the next moment?”

Draco rolled over and braced his head on a cocked elbow to look at her curiously.

“I didn’t have to kill him. The Chosen One wouldn’t have killed him,” he said bitterly.

“Will you stop comparing yourself to Harry?” she snapped.

“Why? Because I’ll never measure up?” he demanded sharply.

She buried her face in her hands in frustration. Why did she always seem to end up arguing with him?

“Look, I just want you to know I don’t think any less of you for killing him.”

“Why not?”

Why not? He expected reasons? How could she explain how she felt? How could she admit to being glad someone like Mulciber would never be able to hurt anyone again? How could she describe her sheer elation that Draco cared enough for her to kill without hesitation? How could she tell him that waking up from a Confundus to find him holding her with almost intense anxiety had been incredible? How could she possibly rationalize the knowledge that she would forgive him just about anything?

“Because I… I…” She was suddenly tongue-tied and felt her hands twist together fretfully. “I should go. I’m sorry I woke you.”

She got to her feet, but his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

“Come here,” he said with a sigh. “I never see you at a loss for words except when you’re with me. Why is that?”

“Because you make me nervous,” she admitted. His thumb caressed her wrist gently as she sat back down, affirming her words.

“I’m too tired to make you nervous right now,” he said and let his head drop to the pillow. “I’ll give it a go in the morning, all right?”

He tugged her wrist insistently and pulled her down to lay next to him. She curled next to him with an exhalation of tired surrender and slipped her arm over his waist. She lay her cheek against his chest and felt his face in her hair. He breathed deeply.

“Why do you always smell like apples?” he murmured.

She smiled softly. “Why do you always feel like heaven?” she whispered, so quietly she didn’t think he heard her, but his arms tightened around her for a moment. Hermione sighed in contentment and drifted off to sleep.

ooOoo

A small sound woke Draco. He reached up under his pillow and grasped his wand silently. The sound came again—a faked cough.

“Malfoy? Are you awake?”

Draco groaned inwardly. It was Potter. He wondered what the hell would bring The Boy Who Annoyed down here at… whatever ludicrous time it was.

“I am now,” Draco muttered.

“Is Hermione here?” Potter asked.

She most definitely was, wrapped around Draco like a cozy blanket.

“She’s asleep,” Malfoy said.

“I was asleep,” she corrected groggily. Her lips brushed Draco’s bare chest as she spoke, and sent a pleasant tingling through Draco’s nerve endings.

“I need to talk to you, Hermione,” Harry said briskly. “I’ll… uh… wait out here.”

His footsteps retreated.

“Remind me to change that damned password,” Draco said as Hermione raised her hand to look at her watch.

“Good idea,” she said. “It’s barely eight a.m.—doesn’t he ever sleep?”

Hermione rolled away from Draco and lit her wand dimly. She looked around for a moment in puzzlement.

“Oh. I didn’t wear shoes.” She got up and padded out, barefoot. Draco pondered going back to sleep, but curiosity made him sit up and light a lamp. He tugged some clothes on and walked out to the common room, which Potter had lit up like a damned stadium. Draco blinked against the brightness.

He stopped dead at the sight of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger wrapped in an intimate embrace. Potter’s arms were tight around Hermione’s waist and her hands held Harry—one of them was in Potter’s dark hair… In an instant, all the hatred Draco had ever felt for Harry Potter returned in a rush. Draco felt such a blinding moment of pure rage that he actually raised his wand, thinking Potter would look quite a lot better with a set of moose antlers. He opened his mouth to tell Potter to get his bloody hands off of her—

Then Hermione’s gaze met Draco’s, full of such sympathetic remorse that Malfoy paused.

“Ron told Harry where we were last night,” she said softly. Draco felt his anger dissipate as though burst like a bubble. It was replaced by a stunning revelation. He leaned against the doorway and stared at them like an idiot, wondering when the hell he had allowed himself to fall in love with Hermione Granger.

Potter was speaking, but Draco barely heard him as he staggered forward and sank into a padded chair.

“I’ll kill him for this, Hermione. I’ve wanted to kill him before, for my parents, for Cedric, for Sirius—but this?” Potter’s voice rose and he began pacing.

Draco needed a drink.

“Wasn’t it enough that he killed them?” Harry yelled. “Did he have to turn my mum into… into…?” Potter buried his face in his hands with a sob and Hermione hurried forward to hug him again. She crooned to him soothingly. Malfoy watched in curious detachment, thinking back.

It could have been the morning he woke up in her house and went downstairs to find she had nervously cooked enough breakfast for a dozen people. That long ago? He smiled in bemusement at the memory.

“I want that Horcrux destroyed,” Potter gritted. He stepped away from Hermione and dragged an arm across his eyes. “I want it destroyed now.”

Hermione nodded soberly.

“I’ll get it,” she said softly. Harry bobbed his head abruptly and went out. Hermione watched him leave with a worried expression. She looked at Draco and her eyes widened. She hurried over to press a cool hand against his forehead.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “You look terribly pale—have you been taking your potions?”

Draco shakily took her hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles.

“I’m fine,” he murmured, although he felt far from fine. She sighed, as if realizing that nagging him would be futile.

“I’d better go get the bracelet before Harry decides to blast apart the girl’s dorm to find it himself.”

Draco brusquely yanked her down into his lap and kissed her, enjoying the way she melted into his arms after only an instant’s hesitation. His kiss was gentle at first, and then bruising as he tried to convince himself that what he felt for her was simple lust and nothing more. She gripped his face with both hands and pushed herself away forcibly.

“Seriously—I have to get the Horcrux. I’ve seen him like this before—he has no patience. I’ll meet you in the room where we destroyed the cup… that is, if you want to do this.”

“I want to do this,” he said and kissed her again. Hermione laughed against his mouth and pushed him away.

“Later,” she promised. She hopped out of his lap and danced away before he could grab her. She walked around the Slytherin couch and started out.

“Hermione?” he called huskily. She gasped and stopped as if she’d hit a wall. He grinned wickedly at her transfixed expression.

“Never mind,” he said lightly.

Her eyes narrowed in perplexed uncertainty, and then she shook her head and went out. Draco leaned back and propped his arms behind his head with a heavy sigh. What the hell was he going to do if life ever returned to normal? He couldn’t possibly be in love with Hermione Granger. It was unthinkable.

He pictured his father’s face at the news. God, Lucius would absolutely forbid their relationship… and then Draco would be forced to tell his own father to get stuffed.

Draco clenched his hands in his hair convulsively.

Bloody hell, he was turning into a Gryffindor!

ooOoo

Hermione walked through the maze that exited the Slytherin common room, feeling completely baffled. Her own name kept bouncing around her skull. What had possessed Draco to call her that? He had never done it before… not once. It was always “Granger.” Always. She felt hot and cold at once, remembering it, and cursed herself for letting a single word from him affect her. d**n Draco Malfoy! Would she ever figure him out?

Harry was waiting for her impatiently in the Gryffindor common room. He watched her without comment until she returned with the bag containing the Horcrux.

“So… you and Malfoy…?”

Hermione face flamed and she realized it hadn’t even occurred to her what it must have looked like for Harry to have found them together. In Draco’s bed.

“How did you know where I was?” she asked sheepishly.

“Ginny told me you never made it to bed… I sort of guessed.”

“We were only sleeping,” she said defensively.

“Okay,” Harry said mildly. She glared at him.

“Where is Ginny, anyway?”

“Breakfast. She was tired of listening to me yell at Ron.”

“And where’s Ron?”

“Probably in the Stone room, by now. He went to fetch all the supplies. Salt, candles, and so on.”

“You shouldn’t have yelled at Ron. It was my idea not to tell you. With good reason, I might add.”

Harry scowled. “Don’t you think I should know that my own mother is now an Inferius?”

“No, I do not. All it did was upset you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been upset before. I’ve learned to deal with it. Are you planning to get dressed, or are we going to destroy this Horcrux with you in your pajamas?”

She nearly went down in her pajamas just to irritate him, but after a stubborn moment, she returned to her room and put some clothes on.

The bracelet Horcrux went the way of the cup, with little change except an audience. Neville, Ginny, and Luna had all come down to watch. Draco kept yawning, which put a less than sober face on the ceremony. Hermione was getting tired just watching him. They were, however, careful to make no mistakes.

Harry rubbed his hands together in satisfaction when they exited the circle, leaving the black and twisted ring of sapphire-studded metal where it lay.

“Fabulous. Another Horcrux down,” Draco said. “I’m going back to bed.”

They all followed Malfoy back to the third floor where they were nearly run down by the frantic Weasley twins.

“There you are!” George yelled.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“What’s happened?” Hermione asked.

“Dad got a message regarding Percy. They want to exchange him for Fenrir Greyback!”

“What? How does Voldemort know we have Greyback?” Harry asked.

“Well, the Ministry knows. And You-Know-Who is likely to have agents there.”

“Regardless, we’re not turning over Fenrir. We have a plan.”

The twins started back downstairs, detailing the plan as they went. When they finished, Hermione reflected with admiration that it might actually work.

[Lissandra Sylvania]

The action is pretty much nonstop from here on out...

---

Chapter Forty Five – Rescue and Escape

The Great Hall was in an uproar again. Draco was starting to think uproar followed Weasley’s around.

He sat down and bit into a golden apple while the group began to argue. The prisoner exchange was to take place in Trafalgar Square in London. All of the Weasleys wanted to go, of course.

The redheaded stick girl was immediately crossed off the list, much to her shrieking, stamping indignation. Draco vowed to get Potter a set of earplugs for his birthday. If they all lived that long.

Hermione sat down next to Draco and reached for a bunch of grapes. Her hip rested against his and their shoulders overlapped. He tried to remember if she had ever sat so close to him before. It made him slightly tense.

Draco was distracted by Ron joining the fray. Apparently, Mrs. Weasley had forbidden ickle-Ronnikins to attend, even though he was of age. The shouting grew even louder when Potter announced that he was going. Rufus Scrimgeour appeared via Floo Network and began issuing orders. The adults unanimously agreed the The Boy Who Lived would be The Boy Who Stayed at Hogwarts. Scrimgeour supported Molly and commanded Ron to stay, also, mostly to annoy Potter, Draco figured. The Minister didn’t seem to like Harry much. Three enraged Gryffindors plopped themselves next to Draco and Hermione.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Malfoy,” Scrimgeour warned Draco. “As soon as I return, we’re going to have a full investigation into the deaths of Titus Mulciber and Albus Dumbledore.”

“Severus Snape killed Dumbledore!” Hermione burst out, rising to Draco’s defense like an angry lioness. “And Mulciber nearly killed us all! Draco acted in self-defense!”

“We will see,” Scrimgeour said shortly. “Bring the werewolf.”

Lupin entered, looking ashen and subdued. He had a chained Fenrir in tow. The werewolf seemed jaunty and relaxed. The room emptied quickly after that as they departed in groups for the Ministry of Magic. From there they would Apparate to London.

“Why didn’t you go, Hermione?” Ron asked when the place had nearly cleared out. Of Hogwarts staff, only McGonagall and Pomfrey remained. Draco assumed Hagrid was around somewhere, as he hadn’t been present for the mass exodus. Perhaps Filch. And the centaur, of course.

“I think most of the Order and half the Ministry is quite enough people to rescue Percy,” she said. “Besides, we have a Trinket to locate.”

Ron groaned. “Back to the library?”

“You guessed it.”

“We’re going to seach every bloody book that has even a passing reference to Godric Gryffindor,” Harry said grimly. “We’ve got to find that last Horcrux.”

Neville entered just as they were leaving, so they dragged him along after he collected a plate of food. Luna joined them. Draco had planned to go back to bed, but he felt more awake after eating.

Draco sat across from Hermione at a long table. If she wondered why he did not sit next to her, she didn’t ask. He couldn’t think clearly when she was leaning on him. Like Luna was at the moment. The Ravenclaw girl was cuddled up next to Draco like a happy kitten, clinging to his left arm while she idly flipped the pages of a book with her other hand. Her head was snuggled against his shoulder.

“Why do you suppose the Dark Lord wants to exchange Weasley for Greyback?” Draco asked suddenly. Several pairs of bored eyes suddenly fixed on him. “Doesn’t it seem odd?”

“He must have plans for Fenrir,” Harry suggested.

“I’m sure he does. The problem is that all the Death Eaters are expendable. Frankly, I think he’d rather just kill Weasley than go through the trouble of a prisoner exchange. There has to be more to it.”

Ron stood up and took over Harry’s usual pacing. Since no one had any further thoughts to add to the discussion, they went back to their books. Harry and Ginny wandered to a window niche and did more romantic gazing into each other’s eyes than reading. At this pace, it would take them six weeks to find any useful information.

Luna raised her head and placed a sweet kiss on Draco’s jaw. He saw Hermione smile sardonically and she raised a brow at him.

“Um… Luna?”

“Yes, Draco?”

“You do know that Granger and I are… sort of… together?” he managed. Both of Hermione’s brows shot up at that statement. Draco scowled. She needn’t look so damned surprised.

“Oh yes,” Luna said. “It’s obvious you two are passionately in love.”

Hermione’s cheeks turned an interesting shade of red at that comment and Draco blanched.

“Then why are you kissing me?” Draco asked, soldiering on. He reached up and wiped at the lipstick smear with his thumb.

“Because you smell so good. And you’re always nice to me now. Not like before. You were horrid. But now you’re sweet. And I do like kissing.”

“Maybe you should try kissing someone else for awhile,” Draco suggested. Luna sat up and swiveled her head around. Neville sat nearby and his face turned beet red when her eyes fixed on him.

“Maybe I should,” she agreed. She slid across the bench and practically pounced on Neville before he could escape. She planted an exuberant kiss on him. Longbottom’s eyes were wide as saucers and stayed that way even after she released him. Luna tsked.

“You’re stiff as a board, Neville. You should learn to relax.”

Hermione began to chuckle. Draco heard her even though she tried to stifle it and he grinned at her. At least Luna was never boring. The Ravenclaw girl got to her feet. Within two steps, it was obvious she was stalking Ron, who started to back away in a panic.

“Now, Luna, I’m sure Malfoy was only joking about the kissing thing,” he said quickly.

“Don’t be shy. I saw you kissing Lavender Brown hundreds of times.”

Ron backed himself into a table and then Luna sprang. His cry of protest was muffled by her kiss. The others watched in astonishment when Luna refused to release Weasley and her arms went around his neck like a python closing in for the kill.

After a long, long moment, Weasley relaxed and his hands gradually slid around Luna’s waist. Draco looked at Hermione in bemusement and she clamped both hands over her mouth to keep from laughing. Weasley and Lovegood seemed oblivious to the rest of them.

“At least she’s not kissing me, anymore,” Draco muttered. They tried to ignore the snogging couple and went back to their tomes, but Draco kept glancing at the pretty blush tinting Hermione’s cheeks. He had to fight the urge to get up and drag her into the bookshelves for some kissing of his own.

McGonagall suddenly appeared in the doorway. Luna released Ron with a squeak of surprise. Weasley looked rather dazed.

“You all need to come with me,” McGonagall said seriously. “Do not ask questions. Just hurry.”

Hermione looked at Draco in concern, but she stood up and followed the Headmistress out. They all filed upstairs to McGonagall’s office. When the stairwell had safely sealed behind them, she said, “Fenrir Greyback and the other Death Eaters have escaped.”

“What do you mean Fenrir has escaped?” Harry demanded. “From the Order? What about Percy?”

McGonagall shook her head sharply. “Greyback was never with the Order. He was downstairs in the dungeon the entire time. Nymphadora Tonks went with the others, pretending to be Fenrir.”

Hermione gasped. Draco was mystified. No wonder Lupin had looked like he was about to vomit.

“So, when you say Fenrir has now escaped…” Hermione prodded.

“Yes, from the Hufflepuff dungeon. Hagrid went to check on them and the cells had been opened.”

“Wormtail?” Draco asked.

“Gone, as well.”

“Who the hell let them out?” Harry bellowed. “They couldn’t have escaped on their own!”

“That is less of a concern than determining where they are now,” McGonagall said prudently. “You children will stay here. The others and I are searching the premises.” Her gaze sharpened when she leveled it at Harry. “I mean it, Potter.”

Harry nodded guilelessly and even Draco nearly believed he would stay put. Potter could really turn on the innocence when he wanted to.

The Headmistress went out. The instant she was gone, Potter’s whole demeanor changed.

“I’m going to get the Marauder’s Map. I can’t believe I forgot to check it!” he said.

“I’ll go with you,” Ginny said.

“No! It’s too dangerous! I—“

“Don’t give me that crap, Harry!” the stick girl shrieked. “Now, we can stand here and argue all day or we can just go get the damned thing!”

Potter yanked at his hair in frustration. One. Two. Three. Four. Draco shook his head sadly. Harry was going to be bald before he was twenty if he stayed with Ginny Weasley.

“Fine! You lot stay here. We’ll be right back.”

Hermione was looking at the Pensieve memories. Draco lounged in a chair. Neville stood next to Fawkes and began to pet the phoenix. Draco wondered when the perch had been reinstalled. Luna maneuvered Ron into the window seat and they went back to their passionate snogging. Dumbledore’s portrait was empty. The dead Headmaster was probably off having tea with one of the other portraits somewhere. His gaze flitted to the Sorting Hat. Wretched, ugly thing. At least it had been smart enough to put Draco in Slytherin before he even had to put the filthy thing on his head…

“Granger?” Draco was looking at Godric Gryffindor’s sword in puzzlement. She turned her brown eyes on him. He gestured at the sword. “Where’s the scabbard?”

Hermione looked at the bare sword and then gasped. Without a word, she turned and bolted for the stairs. Draco watched her disappear in amazement.

“Not again,” Ron muttered, as her flight had surprised him and Luna out of their ardent clinch.

“Should I go after her?” Draco asked.

“She won’t tell you anything, anyway. I doubt Greyback will show up in the library, which is most likely where she’s off to. Better to wait for Harry. Then we can track her down.”

ooOoo

Hermione wasn’t heading for the library. She raced down to the fourth floor, alert for both teachers and escaped Death Eaters. Inside the Armor Gallery, she halted, panting, before the scabbard display where she and Draco had passionately embraced. She blushed when she remembered her last attempt to read the plaque, when Draco had grabbed her… She shook of the memory with a sigh. Malfoy could fluster her when he wasn’t even nearby.

She bent down to read the inscription.

Scabbards of Famous Swords. Gifford Ollerton’s sword, Fodio, was twisted into a knot by the giant Hoot-uk shortly after he killed Ollerton… Hermione skipped that. Glenmore Peakes… sea serpents… Her eyes picked out the words she sought. Godric Gryffindor… sword resides in the Headmaster’s Office, but the scabbard is a thing of beauty, studded with finest rubies and…

Hermione shattered the case with a spell and reached in to take up the ruby-encrusted scabbard. She shook her head at the simplicity of it. Godric Gryffindor had left only two relics. The hat and the sword. They had all forgotten the sheath for the sword. The final Horcrux. It would have been so simple for Tom Riddle to access, here in the Armor Gallery, collecting dust.

She brushed a hand over the hard leather and gold edging. It really was beautiful. Too bad it would soon be a twisted mass of metal, leather and jewels. She hurried out.

ooOoo

Harry burst into the room, followed by Ginny. He was clutching a piece of parchment and a bundle of cloth.

“Snape is here!” Potter yelled. The tone of his voice suggested it was Draco’s fault.

“What are you talking about?” Draco asked calmly. Potter threw the parchment down on McGonagall’s desk and spread it out.

“Look!”

It was a map of the school, with tiny names moving upon it. Draco watched the little names in astonishment.

“Where did you get this? You bastard, no wonder it was so easy for you to sneak out all the time. Invisibility cloak and this? Bloody hell, it’s hardly fair.” Draco’s eyes narrowed as he thought back to the number of times Potter could have used the map… Now that he thought about it, Potter had completely squandered such a valuable item. He could have done some serious damage to Draco, sneaking into the Slytherin common room, or…

“Forget that right now. Look!” Potter stabbed a finger at the map. Severus Snape was labeled and with him were Peter Pettigrew, Fenrir Greyback, and Gerald Goyle.

“Snape let them out?” Draco was perplexed. “But, he’s been helping us.”

“Looks like he switched sides again,” Harry snapped. “Is anyone surprised?”

Draco was, but Potter seemed a bit too agitated for rational conversation at the moment.

“Where are they?” Malfoy was having a hard time getting his bearings on the map. He twisted his head to look at it.

“Heading for the Chamber of Secrets. They’re in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.”

“Why go to the Chamber of Secrets?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to stop them. Where’s Hermione?”

“We were going to ask you that,” Ron said. “Look on the map.”

A quick search of the library showed it to be empty, but they spotted Hermione leaving the Armor Gallery and heading back up the stairs. Draco let out a quick breath of relief to see no other names near her.

“Ron, Malfoy, come with me. We’re going after Snape. Ginny, Luna, Neville, stay here and wait for Hermione. Tell her where we went.”

“What?” Ginny cried. “No! We are coming with you!”

“GINNY, WILL YOU STOP ARGUING, FOR ONCE?” Harry bellowed. She folded her arms and glared at him. Draco figured Potter should save his breath—and his hair—and just hex the little monster.

“We’ll wait for Hermione,” Ginny gritted. “And then we’re coming after you.”

“Fine,” Harry spat. “Let’s go!”

Harry ran down the stairs. Weasley and Malfoy followed. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was on the other side of the castle, so they would be taking the opposite steps from Hermoine. Draco hoped she made it back to McGonagall’s office without incident. Then he remembered the coin around his neck.

It was difficult to use while jogging. He clenched his fist around it and sent a thought to Hermione.

You okay?

Fine. I have the scabbard. It’s a Horcrux, I think.

Draco sucked in a breath. Ron looked at him curiously, but Potter continued to pelt at a breakneck speed down the hall. Gryffindors—always in a hurry to rush to their deaths. The sooner they were in danger, the happier they were.

Snape let the Death Eaters out. We’re going to find them.

What? Where are they? I’m coming with you!

Draco blinked at the similarity to Ginny Weasley’s words. Granger would never turn into a shrieking shrew like the redheaded stick girl, would she? He shook off the thought with a grin. He could just shut her up by kissing her, if that ever happened.

No. You should probably destroy that scabbard. Ginny, Luna, and Longbottom are back in McGonagall’s office. They can help.

There was a short pause, during which Harry led them down the stairs in a suicidal Gryffindor fashion. Draco paused on a landing to read her response.

Be careful.

Draco grinned smugly. No nagging at all. She really was Little Miss Perfect.

[Liz-Miia Parker]

Little miss perfect - ahhaha!

[Hanna Mia Sunrose]

Ma pole terve nädal saanud seda lugeda, ja ainult kaks osa?
MINA TAHAN UUUUT!
Nii et jah ... väganunnu!

[Lissandra Sylvania]

Draco's Patronus...

---

Chapter Forty Six – Bellatrix Lestrange

When Hermione returned to McGonagall’s office, Ginny practically leaped down her throat.

“We have to hurry!” Ginny cried and tugged on her arm. “Harry and—“

“I know where they went,” Hermione said calmly and resisted being dragged. “We have something to do before we can follow them.”

Ginny gaped at her in confusion. “But… it’s Snape!”

“Draco won’t let Harry charge headlong into battle. Besides, we still don’t know whose side Snape is on.”

“We know whose side Greyback is on!” Ginny cried, close to tears. “Frankly, your confidence in Malfoy is appalling—“

Hermione spied the Marauders’ Map on the desk and hurried over to look at it. A quick glance showed Harry, Draco, and Ron nearing Moaning Myrtle’s lavatory. Hermione scanned away from them to check out the route to the room where they had destroyed the other Horcruxes. They would have to use the room again because it had already been purified.

“Oh no,” Hermione murmured. Bellatrix Lestrange was on the stairs heading for the third floor. The other three crowded around the map. Neville paled.

“It looks like she’s alone,” Hermione said.

“Good,” replied Ginny flatly.

Moaning Myrtle was not moaning at the moment. A large hole gaped where one of the sinks used to be. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, no doubt. At least it wasn’t part of a toilet, Draco thought, trying to dredge up something positive about the idea. What had Slytherin been thinking?

“My, my!” Murtle cried when she spotted them. “My toilet is such a busy place, today! So many comings and goings.”

“Who has been coming and going, Myrtle?” Draco asked. She zipped across the room in a flash of white and sidled up to Draco, partly disappearing into his arm.

“Oh, it’s you!” she crooned. “I haven’t seen you since your bath last night.”

Draco flushed a bit. Myrtle never seemed to miss one of Draco’s baths when he was at Hogwarts.

“Did you recognize them, Myrtle?” he asked, hoping to forestall any commentary regarding his bathing habits.

“Oh yes. Nasty Mr. Filch has been in and out, in and out all day. He’s very rude! And that wicked professor who saved your life the day he,” she jerked an accusing finger at Harry, “tried to kill you!” She half-sobbed and then looked coyly at Draco. “Although I was sort of hoping if you died that you would stay here with me.”

She giggled and Draco reflected that spending a lifetime in a toilet with Myrtle or being slow roasted over the coals of hell would be quite the toss up.

“Filch?” Potter snapped. “What was he doing down here?”

Myrtle ignored him. Apparently, she was still upset with Harry for nearly killing Malfoy during the Sectumsempra incident.

“Was anyone with him?” Draco asked.

“That nasty teacher. Filch went down this morning alone and came back with that fellow.”

“Snape,” Draco supplied.

“That’s the one.” Myrtle giggled. “Snape went out and came back with the other four.”

“Dolohov, Goyle, Greyback, and Wormtail.”

“If you say so. I didn’t recognize any of them.”

“I wonder where Filch went,” Ron said.

“Fenrir probably ate him,” Draco replied. Harry grimaced.

“I wouldn’t even wish that on Filch. Do you think he was Imperiused?”

“Who cares?” Draco said. “Shouldn’t we be getting after them?” He began to think Potter and Weasley were stalling. Harry sighed deeply.

“He’s right. Let’s go.”

Ron shuddered. “I hate it down there.”

Harry walked to the opening and stared into the huge pipe.

“I wonder how they opened it. Who speaks Parseltongue besides me and Voldemort?” It was a chilling question to which they had no answer.

“See you down below,” Harry said and stepped into the pipe.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Draco said as Harry disappeared into the distinctly slimy entrance. Ron gave him a commiserating look and followed Potter after a jaunty salute. Draco sighed deeply and stepped in after Weasley vanished. It was one of the most unpleasant experiences of Draco’s life—sliding along a wet, slime-covered pipe at increasing speed until he was shot out the end to land atop Ron Weasley. Malfoy rolled away immediately and got to his feet. He was coated in slippery grime. It was a hundred times worse than the mud he’d been covered in earlier.

Draco instantly cast a Scourgify on himself. He hated doing it because it stung quite nastily, but it was better than being filthy.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy, must you always look like you stepped out of a magazine?” Potter snapped as Draco smoothed down his clean hair with a contented sigh. He scowled at Potter, whose hair was finally lying flat, now that it was plastered with goo. Draco vindictively cracked a cleaning spell at him.

“Ow!” Potter cried and Malfoy smiled wickedly. At least The Chosen One was clean, even if he didn’t appreciate it. Draco looked speculatively at Ron, who backed away so quickly he tripped over a rock and sat down hard.

“I’d rather be dirty!” he yelled.

Malfoy laughed and Potter said, “Don’t say it, Malfoy. Let’s just go.” Then he paused and shook out the cloth in his hand. He handed it to Draco. “Put this on.”

“Your invisibility cloak? Why me?”

“We can’t all wear it. We’re too tall for even two of us to fit. Anyone waiting for us will expect Ron and I. But you? Let’s keep that a secret as long as possible.”

It seemed to take forever to navigate the dark tunnel. A door set with entwined serpents stood open before them and a strange, greenish glow guided them onward. Harry’s steps had slowed until he seemed to be forcing himself forward.

“This is where you fought the basilisk, eh?” Draco murmured. Potter nodded. Malfoy conceded that Potter was braver than he’d thought. This place was creepy. For a twelve-year old boy, it had to have been absolutely terrifying, especially knowing a deadly serpentine monster waited at the end of it.

They entered the chamber and Harry raised his wand. He cast a Lumos bright enough to illuminate anything hiding in the room.

“Wouldn’t it have been better to have sneaked in?” Ron squeaked.

“They knew we were here,” Harry said flatly. The light revealed three people: Peter Pettigrew, Fenrir Greyback, and Severus Snape.

ooOoo

Bellatrix Lestrange stood before the shattered scabbard display. Her fists were clenched.

“Looking for this?” Hermione called sweetly. Bellatrix spun and Hermione dangled the scabbard from her left hand temptingly.

“Accio scabbard!” Bella yelled without preamble. The leather case snapped out of Hermione’s hand, but the leather strap had been tightly wrapped around her wrist. The scabbard hovered for a moment, straining to reach Bellatrix.

Hermione tsked. “Oh no, it’s not going to be that easy,” she commented and shot a Full-body Bind at Lestrange, who stepped lightly aside. Ginny and Luna joined the fray and several bolts of light headed for Bellatrix. A large shield jerked from the wall to float before Bella and the spells bounced off harmlessly. Hermione Transfigured the shield into a small hand mirror. Bellatrix threw it down and it shattered on the floor.

“Seven years bad luck, Bella!” Hermione called.

“The Dark Lord will walk on your dead carcasses!” Bellatrix screamed and sent a green spell racing for Ginny, who avoided it by throwing herself to the floor. Hermione retaliated, but Bellatrix ran behind a large display of horse armor. The spell clipped her black hair as she fled. Luna cowered behind a halberd display and shot random spells at Bellatrix. Neville had disappeared.

“Harry will stop your precious Dark Lord!” Ginny cried angrily as she climbed to her feet. Bellatrix laughed and poked her head out to send a spell at Hermione, who reflected it back. It recoiled off the horse armor with an empty clang.

“Harry Potter?” Bellatrix spat. “That foolish child? His days are numbered. He’ll not live to see his next birthday.”

The comment seemed to enrage Ginny, who shot spell after spell toward Bellatrix in a flurry. The room rang with the reverberations of the armor. Luna joined her, happily sending who-knew-what spells winging at Bella. Hermione hoped none of them bounced off and hit her, but she took advantage of Lestrange being momentarily pinned down to hurry forward, hoping to get behind Bellatrix. Lestrange spotted her at the last moment and shot a wild spell toward Hermione, who held up the scabbard in reflex. The green spell enveloped the sheath and Hermione felt a stinging backlash. Bella cried out in alarm. To the relief of both of them, the Crucio had no effect on the Horcrux.

“Don’t damage the Dark Lord’s little toy, Bella!” Hermoine taunted and aimed a hex that Bellatrix deflected—barely. d**n, she was fast. Ginny and Luna had not relented with their barrage of spells and Bellatrix had a cornered look on her face. Hermione was afraid Lestrange was about to do something crazy and braced herself for anything—anything, that is, except for the blue light that pelted Bellatrix from behind and then enveloped her in a huge, clear bubble.

Enraged, the black-haired woman cast a spell, which bounced around inside the bubble and finally hit her on the posterior. She screamed in rage—or pain—but none of them could hear her.

“Lucky she didn’t cast Avada Kedavra,” Neville commented. Hermione grinned at him in surprise. He had obviously run down the hall to the Trophy Room and entered by the connecting door.

“Brilliant! It’s soundproof, too!” Ginny said and giggled.

“I’ve never seen a spell like that,” Hermione commented. “Where did you learn it, Neville?”

“Fred and George,” Ginny answered for him. Bellatrix had tentatively tried other spells with the same result. She was now jumping up and down furiously and banging her wand and fists against the bubble walls. “She might want to stop that. She’ll run out of air faster if she keeps that up.”

Hermione gasped. “You mean it’s airtight, also?”

“Yeah. She’ll die if we don’t let her out,” Ginny said mildly. Neville’s face hardened and Hermione remembered Bellatrix was one that had tortured his parents into insanity. She couldn’t really blame him if he wanted to leave Bella in there. Neville sighed.

“We’d better let her out,” he said.

“How do we do that without her killing us?” Ginny demanded indignantly.

“We could levitate it up to the ceiling and then release it,” Luna suggested. They all look at the ceiling some six meters above.

“That might kill her,” Hermione commented.

“What a pity,” Ginny said dryly. Hermione sighed. Time was ticking away and they still had to destroy the Horcrux. They quickly made a plan and Luna levitated Bellatrix’s bubble into the air. The Death Eater held the sides of the sphere in alarm and screamed at them soundlessly. It was beautifully coordinated, Hermione had to admit. Neville released the spell, Ginny cast Petrificus Totalus the instant Bellatrix began to fall, and Hermone gently lowered the frozen Death Eater to the ground. Her eyes glared at them in purest rage when Hermione plucked the wand from Bella’s petrified hand.

“Better luck next time,” Luna said brightly.

“There won’t be a next time,” Ginny gritted. She and Neville conjured so many ropes and tied them tightly around Bella she looked like a brown mummy. Hermione quickly cast a Patronus message to let McGonagall know what was happening, considering not a single one of them had remained in her office as ordered.

“We’d better hurry and destroy this thing,” she said.

ooOoo

“Nice of you to join us, Potter. Weasley.” Fenrir’s grin was hideous.

Snape shook his head. “No backup? I see you’re reckless as ever, Potter. I never expect you to learn, but sometimes you still manage to disappoint me.”

“d**n, I really hate to disappoint you, don’t I?” Potter said with a sneer. Snape returned the expression and his eyes flashed. Wormtail and Greyback started forward. Draco, invisible, began to sidle around behind the pillars. It worried him that Dolohov and Goyle were missing. Where had they gone? Another tunnel? Hiding behind the pillars somewhere?

“Harry Potter, eh?” Greyback snarled. “Be a nice treat to sink my teeth into your tender flesh.”

“Down, Fenrir,” Snape said sharply. “Plenty of time for that, later. Potter can entertain himself with some other playmates while we’re gone.”

Snape cast a spell and the area surrounding the Death Eaters was suddenly filled with clouds of black smoke. Draco ran forward quickly, expecting them to make a run for it—but to where? He heard coughing and followed the sound, plunging into the cloud. He wished he had his Hand of Glory—it would have been useful in this black fog. He kept a handful of the cloak over his face to filter the smoke.

Draco hurried a bit too fast and actually ran into someone.

“That you Wormtail?” Fenrir growled. “Watch where you’re going, you stupid git!” Draco backed up cautiously, afraid the werewolf would recognize his scent. Thankfully, the smoke seemed to be masking it.

“What are you talking about?” Peter’s voice sounded somewhat farther away.

“Will you two shut up and get inside?” Snape hissed. “Potter won’t be detained for long. I’m sure the Dark Lord will want to prepare for his imminent arrival.”

Draco’s heart sank at the confirmation—Lord Voldemort was here. He followed the sound of footsteps as quietly as possible and heard the unmistakable grating of stone on stone. A doorway. The Death Eaters had been heading for the back wall, so the passage was likely beneath the statue of Salazar Slytherin. The black mist was already beginning to dissipate.

Ron Weasley began to yell, though Malfoy could not make out any words. He heard Potter shout, also. Draco fought his way out of the haze, coughing despite the cloth over his mouth. When he could see again, he stopped in surprise. A dozen dementors were swirling through the pillars of the room. Weasley stood behind Potter, yelling madly and waving his wand like an idiot. A silver stag burst out of Potter’s wand and routed a number of dementors, who shredded like cheesecloth and tried to flee. A bolder one approached Weasley from behind. Ron wheeled in terror.

“Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!” Ron shrieked. Silver flashes spurted from the end of his wand and fizzled. Potter spun and cast another Patronus that charged the dementor, but those Harry had initially routed had nowhere to go—they reformed quickly in the shadows near the ceiling and swept downward en masse. Draco swore. There was no help for it. He shrugged the invisibility cloak back over his shoulders and raced forward. Draco’s Patronus sprang from his wand and scattered the dementors menacing Potter. Draco halted at Harry’s side—Potter’s emerald eyes were wide and frantic.

“There are too many!” Harry shouted. Weasley finally managed to cast a Patronus and the ratlike dog flew from his wand and routed a lone dementor. Others began to reform.

“Keep shredding them—don’t let them regroup!” Draco cried and cast his Patronus once more. “And keep them off me!”

He steadied himself and raised his wand to cast a Binding. It would be difficult with so many. Luckily, Weasley’s success seemed to have steadied him and Ron managed to keep casting. He and Potter kept the creatures from completely coalescing. Draco’s voice rose to a scream. The dementors swirled in a spinning, dark cloud near the ceiling, as if trying to escape. Malfoy fought to maintain control.

At last it was finished. Draco grabbed Potter’s wand to halt the next Patronus.

“Wait,” he gasped, panting. His throat was raw. The fleeing dementors solidified and gathered, but they did not try to descend. They floated menacingly—an evil cloud above their heads.

“What did you do?” Potter gasped in amazement.

“A Binding,” Draco said tiredly. “It’s how the Ministry—and the Dark Lord—can control them. It’s damned hard with so many. Fucking Snape is a master at the Dark Arts. I’m sure it was child’s play for him, d**n him to hell.”

Weasley suddenly laughed weakly. Potter looked at him curiously.

“Nice Patronus, Malfoy.”

Draco scowled. “I’d rather not discuss it.”

Potter grinned at him. “A unicorn? Who would have guessed?”

“Shut it, Potter.”

“I mean, the very symbol of purity and innocence. It boggles the mind.”

“Are we going after Snape, or not?” Draco snapped. That, at least, forced Potter back to reality, although Weasley was still chuckling like a loon.

“Where did they go?” Harry asked.

Draco pointed. “We need to find the door.”

With one last apprehensive look at the dementors hovering near the ceiling, Potter hurried toward Slytherin’s statue.

“A unicorn,” Draco heard Weasley whisper. Draco felt like yanking at his hair. Now he knew why Potter did it so often.

[Lissandra Sylvania]

Chapter Forty Seven – The Second Chamber

Hermione cast the circle as quickly as possible. She stood in the east position again and Neville took Harry’s place. Luna was at the southern point and Ginny stood in for Draco in the west. Hermione suddenly missed him terribly, but she reflected that Ginny Weasley was a fine stand-in for him. They were much alike in temperament. Even now Ginny was tapping her foot with impatience. Hermione smiled, knowing what Draco would say about that observation.

She lifted her wand and began.

ooOoo

It seemed to take them forever to find the portal. Weasley, of all people, stumbled over it. Literally. He tripped on the hem of the cloak Draco wore and put his hands out on the wall to break his fall.

“d**n it, Weasley, can you get any clumsier?” Draco grumbled.

“The cloak is invisible, Malfoy, you bloody—“ Ron began, but his words were cut off by a grating sound that drew their attention. A huge crack had appeared on Slytherin’s boot. It opened wider and Harry grabbed it to throw it wider. It revealed a dark, cramped passage.

Potter took a step forward, but Draco halted him with a hand on his shoulder. Harry’s green eyes flashed.

“This is my fight, Malfoy. I’ll go first.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “As usual, there are a number of things wrong with that observation, Potter, but I’m not trying to save you from yourself at the moment.”

Harry cocked a brow at him and Draco smiled.

“I think it’s only fair to send the Dark Lord’s friends back to him, don’t you think?”

With that, he flicked his wand and uttered a command. The churning cloud of dementors broke ranks, jetted downward, and flew into the passage with a rush of air, a burst of cold, and the whisper of fluttering cloth. Weasley jumped back with a yelp as the dark mass raced by.

Harry sighed and then grinned. “Malfoy, I hate to admit this, but sometimes I’m really glad you’re pure evil.”

Draco laughed.

“Glad you finally appreciate me, Potter. Let’s go—the dementors won’t occupy them for long.”

Harry plunged into the passage in typical Gryffindor abandon and Weasley followed. Draco made certain he was fully concealed under the cloak and trailed after them.

The tunnel was only a few dozen meters long and opened into yet another chamber, this one completely circular. The three of them stopped short for a moment to observe the chaos. Several Death Eaters were shouting and casting various spells at the attacking dementors. Draco smiled in pure pleasure at the sight.

Directly in front of them, Lars cast a Patronus—a crocodile?—and shredded a dementor. Behind him, Crabbe was yelling and trying hard to cast at another. Beside him, Goyle managed another Patronus—a baboon, was that any surprise?—but it was weak and merely caused the dark creature to retreat for a moment.

Draco’s eyes scanned the rest of the room. Seated on the floor next to Crabbe was Tonks—looking strange and terrified. Her hair was mouse brown. Bound as she was, she had no defense against the dementors. Draco leaped forward.

Behind her, Fenrir Greyback seemed to be casting a Binding.

In the center of the room, in what looked to be a pentagram carved into the floor, sat Voldemort on a chair Draco recognized as the one from the parlour at Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord looked bored. Next to the chair, Wormtail cowered with his hands over his head. On the other side of the chair, in a small iron cage, was Dobby. Behind Pettigrew stood Snape. The former Potions master effortlessly cast a strange, jagged purple spell at a menacing dementor and the creature vaporized. Draco wished he knew half the spells in Snape’s arsenal.

Beyond Snape, Draco’s father stood near the wall, casting his own web of defense. The final Death Eater present was Rodolphus Lestrange. Draco wondered where the others were. Where was Dolohov? And Narcissa?

There was no time for reflection. Draco hurried invisibly past Crabbe and Goyle and knelt next to Tonks.

“Wotcher, cousin,” he breathed in her ear. With a quick spell, he severed her ropes as she gasped. “Sorry I don’t have a wand to give you.”

“That’s all right,” she murmured. “I feel better already.”

Greyback spun suddenly, eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

“Malfoy!” the werewolf said. Draco backed away as silently as possible, cursing the damned werewolf’s heightened senses. Greyback followed, clawed hands outstretched. As Draco sidled away from the werewolf, he caught a glimpse of Harry. What the hell was Potter doing?

ooOoo

Harry watched the scene for only a moment before taking a retreating step.

“We’ve got to get out of here—wait for Hermione and the others,” Harry said quietly. “There are too many of them. They’ll cut us to ribbons.”

Ron did not need to be told twice. He slipped back into the passage.

“Malfoy?” Harry hissed. There was no reply. “Malfoy? d**n it—Draco?”

Harry nearly pulled his hair. Where the devil had the Slytherin gone? Harry turned to go and found himself unable to move.

“Harry Potter. Come and join our little party,” Voldemort called. Harry fought the compulsion with a sinking feeling, but found his feet carrying him forward into the room. His mind screamed for him to resist, but his body refused to obey.

“I had planned to bring the festivities up to you,” Voldemort continued, “But as usual, your Gryffindor impulsiveness has put a kink in my plans.” Voldemort shook his head. He still lounged casually in the chair with his wand pointed at Harry. Wormtail hovered nearby, looking terrified. Harry vaguely noticed that the dementors were being brought under control.

“You’ve been quite a thorn in my side, Potter,” Voldemort went on. Harry began to sweat with the effort of trying to raise his wand. He thought it moved fractionally.

“Wormtail, do go fetch Potter’s wand before he hurts himself.”

Pettigrew scampered forward and snatched the wand from Harry’s hand. He felt almost physical pain from the loss.

“Now, Mr. Potter, you may kneel before me. You see, I am the new master here. I have the Ministry and shortly I will have Hogwarts.”

“No,” Harry managed. Voldemort scowled and sat up.

“Yes, Mr. Potter. Kneel.”

Harry’s legs buckled, but a part of him seemed to detach from the rest of his mind. No, it whispered. Harry swayed, but remained upright.

“Kneel!” Voldemort screamed, rising to his feet and brandishing his wand like a sword. Harry felt his knees slam into the stone floor. He shook with the effort to resist, struggling to rise. Confident once more, Voldemort settled back into the chair, although his previous casual attitude was gone.

“I am curious, Potter, how you managed to command the dementors. By all accounts, you are not the best student.” His snakelike eyes flicked to Snape for a moment.

“I know how,” Fenrir growled. “Draco Malfoy. He’s here—I can smell him.” The werewolf was stalking a path through the room.

Get out, Malfoy, Harry willed. Greyback suddenly launched himself forward and his hand clawed at thin air. There was an odd shimmer as the invisibility cloak slipped off to reveal Draco, who immediately cast a spell that sent Fenrir flying backward. When the werewolf landed several feet away, he did not rise.

Malfoy did not pause, but whirled and sent a killing spell at Voldemort, who did not bother to deflect it—Lars did it for him. The Death Eater cast a shield charm and Draco’s bolt ricocheted off to blast a chunk of rock from the wall.

“Expelliarmus!” Voldemort snapped and Draco’s wand was snatched from his hand to land in Voldemort’s. Draco raised his chin, tossing his platinum hair defiantly.

“Lucius. I’m afraid your offspring has been very naughty.”

“Indeed,” Lucius commented. Harry marveled at the bored tone of his voice. Was it possible that Lucius did not even care about his own son?

“Don’t you think it’s time you punished him? It’s a father’s job, after all, to discipline their children, is it not?”

Harry felt sick. Voldemort’s voice was heavy with amusement and tinged with excitement, as thought it were an entertaining game. The huge snake slithered out from under the chair, where it had apparently been coiled the entire time. It hissed.

“You are absolutely right, my lord,” Lucius said. He strode forward and raised his wand. Father and son looked at each other for a long moment—so very alike, pale and haughty.

“Avada Kedavra!” Lucius snapped and a green light shot forward and slammed into Draco, who instantly collapsed and lay still.

Harry felt himself screaming in horrified denial. For a moment, he thought he’d managed to break the curse and scream aloud, but it was another’s cry of pure pain that echoed in the room. Narcissa had entered by a passage at the rear of the chamber just in time to witness her husband murder their only child.

She flew forward with a shriek of rage to launch herself at Lucius. Her fists hammered into his chest, past all his efforts to deflect her. Her hair was a silver cloud as she pounded at him.

“You bastard! You BASTARD! How could you?” she sobbed. Harry’s heart twisted with pain. His eyes slid to Draco’s unmoving body. He never would have imagined the crushing sense of loss he felt to know he’d never hear that snide voice again, or see those flawless features twist with wry humor…

Narcissa collapsed into Lucius’s arms and the elder Malfoy buried his face in her hair as he held her tightly. Harry felt such rage toward Lucius Malfoy he thought he would burst from it. He clenched his fists and concealed his surprise when his hands responded. Could he fight the Imperius Curse? He had once before…

“Oh my, that was entertaining. Thank you, Lucius. Narcissa, it’s for the best. Your traitor son was consorting with Mudbloods and their whelp. Potter, you seem upset.” Voldemort tsked as if sympathetic. “Was young Malfoy your friend?”

Yes, you bastard, Harry thought furiously. Yes, he was.

“I suppose I should put you out of your misery then, eh Potter? Wormtail, kill him.”

Peter’s head shot up in surprise and then a stricken expression crossed his face. He hesitated.

“Don’t make me tell you twice, Peter.”

Wormtail crept forward and then slowly knelt before Harry. His features were twisted as he reached out his silver hand. Harry felt the cold metal close around his throat. He looked into Wormtail’s watery eyes steadily, pleading.

“Forgive me, Harry,” Peter whispered in a shaking voice. The hand began to tighten. Pettigrew drew a shuddering breath. “Oh, God, you look so much like James.” Tears filled the eyes of the man who had betrayed Harry’s parents to their deaths. “Forgive me, James, forgive me.” Harry found it difficult to breathe as the metal hand continued to tighten. He struggled with all his might to move and felt his hands rise with ludicrous slowness toward his neck—far too slowly. Pettigrew sobbed and the tears flowed down his cheeks. “James. James, I loved you like a brother. I’m so sorry.” Black spots appeared before Harry’s eyes and he fought desperately for breath, but the air was not forthcoming. His oxygen-starved brain howled for him to do something—he couldn’t let it end like this!

“I’m so sorry,” Wormtail cried. The hand trembled on Harry’s neck and then suddenly released.

Cool, sweet, welcome air flooded Harry’s lungs and he drew in a gasping breath. He blinked in astonishment and would have fallen if the compulsion had not kept him upright. Wormtail climbed to his feet and stepped away.

“I… I can’t, my lord,” Peter said in a whining, begging voice. “Potter saved my life—he kept Sirius and Remus from killing me. I owe him a life debt.”

“Pity,” Voldemort said in a voice like a crypt. He flicked his wand. Wormtail’s hand suddenly sprang up and closed around his own throat. Peter shrieked in surprised horror until the sound was choked off. Peter’s other hand tugged convulsively at the metal appendage, trying to tear it away, but it continued to squeeze mercilessly. The Animagus tried to transform in a panic. His features melted and became even more ratlike. Harry watched in utter horror, panting through his bruised throat. The partial change made no difference. Pettigrew flopped to the ground, thrashing violently, half-man and half-rat. His back arched hideously and his heels drummed on the ground—and then he lay still.

Voldemort chuckled in the silence. Even the Death Eaters seemed stunned by the pitiless killing.

“Poor Wormtail. He never knew the hand was a failsafe device. I always suspected he would turn on me, in the end.” Voldemort suddenly pounded a fist on the carved arm of the chair. “I am surrounded by traitors! Who will be next? You, Lars?” The brutal-faced Death Eater shook his head in terror and backed away.

“No, my lord!”

“Crabbe? Dolohov?” He turned his glare on the man that had escorted Narcissa Malfoy into the room. Antonin Dolohov held up his hands in fear.

“I am loyal to the death, my lord!”

Voldemort swung around to stare at Snape.

“Severus?”

Snape met his gaze coldly and said nothing. The lack of response seemed to calm Voldemort, who relaxed a bit and chuckled. “No… not you. Not the one who rid me of that pestilential Dumbledore.” He sat back and steepled his fingers. The twisted wand jutted from the center of his hands like a bleached bone. “Perhaps it is time you rid me of Potter, as well.”

Time to move, Harry, said the detached voice in Harry’s mind. Move now.



ooOoo


Hermione raced for Myrtle’s bathroom with the others. She was shocked to run into Susan Bones on the way.

“Where are you going?” Susan asked.

“Should you be… out of the hospital ward?” Hermione asked uncertainly. Susan glared at her.

“Probably not, since I’m such a dangerous criminal. I’m frankly surprised I wasn’t confined to a cell with the Death Eaters.”

“They’ve escaped,” Neville said quietly. Susan’s eyes flashed.

“Escaped! That explains why Pomfrey hoofed it out of there in a flutter. d**n it! They should have let me kill them all!”

“You might still have your chance,” Ginny said dryly. “They’ve fled with Snape into the Chamber of Secrets. We’re going after them.”

A smiled curved Susan’s lips and she raised her wand.

“Why are we standing here?”

Hermione brushed past her and they hurried to the entrance of the Chamber. Myrtle floated near the hole. She glared at them.

“No visitors for months and then everyone shows up in one day,” she huffed. “I suppose you’re going down, too?”

Hermione didn’t bother to respond; she merely hurried to the entrance and stepped inside. The ride was more horrible than even Ron had described. She spat slime from her mouth after landing with a hard thump at the bottom.

“Ew, that’s so disgusting!” she cried, shaking her hand to dislodge a clinging bit of something horrid.

“Hermione!” She looked up to see Ron running toward her. “We’ve got to hurry! They’ve got Harry! Voldemort’s here!”

The others emerged from the pipe one by one and clustered around Ron, who turned and raced back the way he’d come. They all followed. They entered a huge chamber with large pillars that Hermione recognized from Harry’s descriptions. She paused for a moment, astonished that Salazar Slytherin had managed to construct something so massive in total secrecy. Ron hadn’t slowed, so she hurried to catch up with him.

Hermione suddenly screamed as a massive wave of agony bored into her—the source was the Galleon around her neck. She fell to the ground and barely caught herself with her hands. The pain disappeared as suddenly as it had come.

Ron was on his knees next to her. She gripped his arms in panic.

“It’s Draco—something terrible has happened!” She threw herself to her feet and fled toward the doorway that gaped at the end of the room.

[Hanna Mia Sunrose]

See Draco surma (EIEIEI, MA TEAN, TA EI SURNUD ÄRA, TA EI TOHTINUD!) koht oli täiesti südantlõhestav.
ERITI veel sellepärast, et Harry nii kurvaks muutus.
"Yes, you bastard, Harry thought furiously. Yes, he was."
Ma totaalselt armastan Harry't nende lausete pärast.
Ja lõpp ... lõpp ka.
JA NÜÜD UUT, sest ma tahan veenduda, et Draco ei ole surnud!

[Lana Marye Allen]

See Draco surma??

See on vähe tõenäoline, et ta ei saanud, ta sai ju needusega pihta ja see polnud ju ka tavaline needus vaid Avada Kedavra, ma kahtlen et ta suutis ellu jääda...kuid vb mingi suure ime läbi...
Aga see koht oli tõesti kurb, ma ei suutnud uskuda, et Draco oma isa tapab ta ja siis Draco ema, vaene Narcissa ja Hermist on samuti mul kahju...

[Hanna Mia Sunrose]

Jaa, see Draco surma.
Aga ta ei TOHTINUD ära surra!
Draco on kindlasti mingi varikätk vms, sest ma TEAN, et ta ei surnud ära!
Ja võib-olla ta isa teeskles, või midagi, ma ei tea, ta EI SURNUD ÄRA!
Tõsiselt, mul on Narcissast sama kahju, nagu mul oli päris Potteri seitsmendas osas, aga Luciust vihkan täiega, no on jobu, mingi koradi Voldi tallalakkuja.
Ja Hermione, ta tapab ennast sinna samma kõrvale ära ju!
Samas, kunagi pole keegi öelnud, et sellel lool õnnelik lõpp on ... "Võta mu süda"-l polnud ka näiteks, aga ikkagi kõik arvavad, et see on sitaks hea jutt.
Järelikult on selle lõpp siis vägaväga hea, kui ta ära suri.

[Liz-Miia Parker]

Hummm. Rahu.

See oli indeed. šhokeeriv, et Lucius Draco ära tappis. Ja ma ei taha isegi seda osa lugeda, kui Hermione sellest teada saab, ma arvan, et ma ise annaks otsad siis.

Kui seda jutu lugeda ja autorit analüüsida, siis ma olen kahe vahel..kas Draco oli varikätk või ta tõesti suri. See lugu on olnud paras selline nagu tõeline raamat, seega totaalselt mõistetav kui ta Draco ära tappis. Ja samas ka mõistetav kui ta peaks ellu ärkama......firenzi abiga..või, et voldi sureb ja mingi ühendus...või snape..teeb midagi.

Igastahes..seda saame nüüd näha...

Ehk..järgmist osa palun (H)

[Hanna Mia Sunrose]

Mulle tuli meelde, mis ma lahenduseks mõtlesin!
Pealkiri on ju "Phoenix Rising".
Ja Fawkes on NII palju juba Draco elu päästnud, ma olen veendunud, et ta lendab nüüd ka kohale ja kuidagi äratab Draco ellu!
Aga mul on kuri kahtlus, et Fawkes tapetakse siis ära ...
Igatahes jah, UUUT![/i]

[Lissandra Sylvania]

Fööniks on tõesti võimas lind, kuid isegi tema ei suuda surnuid tagasi tuua, mitte miski ei suuda kui must maagia välja arvata, kahjuks...ja nüüd siis saame teada, kas Draco elab või ta on tõesti lahkunud sellest maisest elust, igaveseks!

---

Chapter Forty Eight – Avada Kedavra

Draco was aware of pain and nothing more. He’d never felt such excruciating agony in his life. He tried not to breathe because the very air hurt his lungs. Movement was out of the question. He tried to force his mind past the torment and find a rational thought. Was he dead and finally paying the ultimate price for his actions? Burning in hell? It certainly felt like it.

That lovely idea pulled him slightly back to reality. What had happened? It came back to him with a crushing weight that nearly drowned the physical pain. This was an anguish that was purely emotional. Lucius had killed him! Draco could hardly wrap his tortured mind around the idea. He knew without question that his father loved him—would die for him. That knowledge brought him even closer to coherent thought. He became aware of an annoying buzzing that slowly sorted itself into words—voices.

Voldemort? Unless Potter had finally sent the Dark Lord to a much-overdue demise and he now resided in hell with Draco… then he wasn’t dead. Draco focused on the voice. Voldemort was ranting at Wormtail. The pain began to recede, thankfully. Draco slit his eyes open, but the light burned into his skull with a new brand of torment and he quickly gave up that idea. He would lie here for a moment and think, he decided.

Why hadn’t the Avada Kedavra killed him?

That thought occupied him completely and the pain faded even more. He sent his mind back to everything he knew about Unforgivable Curses. His father… What had his father said? They had talked about it once, long ago…

“The Killing Curse is only as effective as the will of the caster,” Lucius said.

“What do you mean?” Draco asked. He had spent the day reading up on Unforgivable Curses in the library, mainly because Theo Nott had irritated Draco by nearly knocking him off his broom during an impromptu Quidditch game. Draco felt it prudent to learn the Cruciatus Curse and prevent that ever happening again. When Lucius arrived home, Draco had asked if he had ever used the Killing Curse. His father bypassed the question with a thoughtful look. Lucius sat heavily in his favorite chair and stared into the fire. He began to reminisce.

“When I was a boy, my parents once went on holiday without me. They sent me to my uncle’s farm in Scotland for the summer. My uncle—the man was a right bastard. I was quite surprised when he gave me a puppy on the day I arrived. I was horrified at first—what did I want with a pet? But the bloody little thing followed me around day after day. It had these floppy, uneven ears…”

Lucius grimaced. Draco was amazed at the story. He could not picture his father with any sort of pet, not even as a child.

“I grew to love that damned dog, although I knew my parents would never let me keep it at home. I assumed it would stay at the farm where I could visit it from time to time.” He laughed harshly. “I should have known better. On the day I was to leave, my uncle informed me that they had no intention of keeping the dog and it would starve to death unless I killed it. My father concurred. It was a test, you see.”

Lucius’s face was impassive, but his voice had an unusual timbre.

“So, I cast Avada Kedavra on my dog.”

Draco waited, sensing that wasn’t the end of the story.

“The thing is… it didn’t die.” Lucius shook his head. “My uncle simply thought I cast the spell wrong. He corrected my ‘mistake’ himself, of course. But I’ve thought about it often since then. I know I cast it correctly. I simply did not want to kill the dog, so the spell was ineffective. You see, Draco, you have to want to kill. You have to want it, or it won’t work.”

It won’t work.

Lucius had known. God, Draco hoped his father had known the curse wouldn’t kill him. If not—if Draco was that delusional about his own family, he would have to change his name and move in with Potter. Oh God. Potter. Draco wondered if Harry was still alive and forced his eyes again.

Wormtail was whimpering and… what? Choking Harry to death? Draco shut his eyes again and swiftly pondered his options. He needed to get his wand, get up, and save Potter. In that order. He only wished he could move. Draco tried to stretch his fingers and had to grit his teeth when the tiny motion sent pins and needles of pain through his hand. The Avada Kedavra hadn’t killed him, but it certainly hadn’t done him any good, either.

Accio wand, he thought. Nothing happened. He tried to shove aside his awareness of the pain and concentrate. He’d done this hundreds of times. He could practically do it in his sleep. Come on!

Wormtail released Harry suddenly and took a step back, nearly standing on Draco when he refused to kill Potter. Surprise at the turn of events made Draco pause—perhaps Wormtail would be useful and turn on the Dark Lord? Or at least take out Fenrir or Lars? That vague hope died when Wormtail was quickly killed by his own hand and hit the floor near Draco’s feet. Draco sighed and focused once more on retrieving his wand—the Dark Lord would not be distracted forever. Voldemort began ranting.

Draco’s efforts were curtailed by Voldemort seating himself in the chair and snatching up the two wands he’d thrown carelessly on the seat: Harry’s and Draco’s. The Dark Lord dangled one before Harry for a moment.

“Trying for this, Potter? Looks like you don’t quite have it in you to perform wandless magic, eh? Must be the Muggle-born taint.”

Draco watched through nearly-closed eyes as Voldemort tucked the wands into his robe. He shut his eyes with a silent groan. Now what?

A muted commotion made Draco slit his eyes open again. Voldemort made a quick gesture and command. Most of the Death Eaters hurried for the passage that led back to the first chamber. The reinforcements must have arrived. Snape remained in the room, as did Draco’s parents.

“Apparently your protectors have arrived, Potter. A bit too late.” He snapped another directive and Draco felt more than saw the dementors fly after the Death Eaters. He heard Fenrir climb to his feet a distance away.

“Where is the Malfoy brat?” the werewolf snarled. “I’ll kill him!”

“Lucius took care of that for you. Go join the others,” Voldemort ordered.

Greyback growled, but thankfully came no closer. It was possible he could see through Draco’s ruse. Fenrir chuckled ruefully. “What a bloody waste. I’ll have to settle for Potter’s little friends, then. I think I’ll start with that Mudblood girl…”

Draco tried not to let the thought twist his insides.

“Where’s the Metamorphmagus?”

Draco smiled inwardly. The idiots had forgotten to watch Tonks. She must have transformed into a Death Eater and ran out with the others. Hopefully, she could figure out how to get the Order here posthaste.

“Useless fools!” Voldemort bellowed. “Just go kill them!”



ooOoo

Hermione was nearly to the open passage when the sound of footsteps warned her. She threw herself behind the nearest pillar just in time to avoid a blast from a Death Eater wand. Voldemort’s minions had barely poured into the room when a massive swarm of dementors joined them. Hermione cast her Patronus as one flung itself toward her.

“More stupid kids!” the brutal-faced Death Eater yelled. “They’re supposed to stop us? Where’s the Order?” He laughed loudly. “Oh yes, trying to save the Ministry.”

A Death Eater ran toward Hermione and she raised her wand again, but it shockingly metamorphosed into Tonks. Hermione jerked her wand aside just in time.

“Tonks! Where did you come from?”

Tonks threw herself behind the pillar with Hermione and shot a spell at another henchman. The Death Eaters were racing to take up positions around the opposite pillars and the dementors dove and spun like evil birds. Susan Bones shredded one with a spell that looked like lightning and then turned the same spell on a Death Eater. They avoided it by leaping to the ground and rolling.

“I pretended to be Fenrir—they traded me for Percy as planned. I was to lead the order to Voldemort’s headquarters, but when I got here the real Fenrir was free… as you must know.”

The mention of the werewolf was timely. Greyback emerged from the tunnel. Tonks and Hermione ducked out of sight.

Tonks looked at her seriously. “Draco freed me… Harry’s still in there, under an Imperius Curse. Hermione, Lucius Malfoy killed Draco.”

She looked at Tonks uncomprehendingly. Draco could not be dead. It was impossible. She wouldn’t allow it. She clutched the coin on her chest instinctively and forced down a rush of fear.

“Who else is in there?” she asked hoarsely.

“Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Snape. And Voldemort.”

Fenrir had moved into the center of the room, dodging spells from Luna and Susan Bones. Hermione stood up.

“I’ve got to help Harry. You try to find out where the Order is and get them here as quickly as possible.”

Hermione did not wait for a response, but dashed to the passage unhindered. When she reached it, something snagged on the edge of the open door. She looked down in surprise to find Bellatrix Lestrange’s wand jutting from her back pocket. Bloody hell, she needed to give that to Tonks.



ooOoo



Draco cast his mind out desperately for a solution. Wormtail. His body lay nearby—Voldemort had not taken his wand, had he? Draco flexed his hand slightly, reaching… Before he could cast an Accio, he felt something heavy touch his leg. It slid up his thigh and over his crotch—oh hell, the snake! Its tongue flicked Draco’s face and then it hissed loudly. Draco’s shirt was suddenly snatched in a claw-like hand and the snake’s weight fell away as Draco was hoisted. Wracking pain jolted through his body at the sharp movement. Draco fought to remain conscious as blackness clutched at the edges of his mind.

“The boy lives!” Voldemort snarled. Draco felt himself being dragged across the room. “What is the meaning of this, Lucius?” He opened his eyes to see Voldemort’s horrible eyes glaring at his father. The snake quickly curled around Draco’s parents—enfolding them in a deadly embrace. Lucius met the Dark Lord’s gaze steadily.

“He’s my son. I love him.”

The words seemed to incense Voldemort. He shook Draco like a rag doll.

“I’ll deal with you later, Lucius,” he hissed. “Draco. Your father did you no favor by sparing you. Now he can watch you die in torment.”

Draco managed to get his feet under him and contrived to bear his own weight, though he trembled with the effort. The Dark Lord’s grip on his shirt did not slacken.

“Severus. Bring me the potion—the one I planned to use on Avery.”

Snape approached and pulled a small vial of purplish liquid from his robes. Draco’s eyes met his for a moment, but Snape’s black gaze was impassive. Voldemort’s other hand reached up to grab Draco’s chin and force his eyes back to meet the reddish slits that burned into Draco’s mind.

“My lord Voldemort,” Lucius whispered, struggling against the coils that held him. “Please…”

“Silence, Lucius, or Narcissa will go first.”

Draco’s mother sobbed and maintained a ceaseless pleading that Voldemort completely ignored.

“Why did you betray me, boy?” he snarled. “Before you die, tell me why.”

Draco’s lips curved. If he were to die, at least he would die a Malfoy.

“Because you are mad as a fucking hatter, of course.”

Voldemort’s wand pressed hard beneath Draco’s chin and his mouth cracked open in a hideous caricature of a smile.

“I could crack you open like an egg and no one would stop me,” he murmured. “Oh, your parents would try, no doubt, but they are tied up at the moment and Lucius would be wise not to cross me again. You betrayed me to join Potter and his ilk. Do you think any of your new friends will save you? Do you think they would even try?”

Draco ignored him. Accio wand, he thought. Voldemort’s robe twitched and Draco felt the hardness of wood against his hand—but it was hampered by the robe and remained in the Dark Lord’s pocket. d**n the depth of the compartment—he would have to coax the thing upward and outward. He did not have the chance. Draco felt another spike of pain as he was yanked from his feet and hauled, stumbling, before Potter. Draco caught his balance once more and his eyes met Harry’s. The rage burning in those green orbs made Draco’s breath catch in his throat. Voldemort was a fool not to kill Harry immediately—if Potter freed himself from the Imperius Curse, he was going to erupt like a Gryffindor volcano.

“Do you think Potter and his chums will even notice when you’re gone? They seem to value sacrifice—do you think any of them would die for you, Draco? Well, Potter? The Gryffindor hero? Will you take his place? Will you die for Draco Malfoy?”

Harry’s mouth opened and Draco had little doubt what his response would be, but a clear voice suddenly rang in the room.

“No. But I will.”

Draco’s eyes left Harry and reluctantly moved to the passage entrance. Hermione Granger stood like an avenging angel; her wand was steady and her face set in defiance. Draco had never seen such a beautiful sight in his life. At the same instant, he was horrified that she was here.

“Ah, the Mudblood prodigy. Throw your wand down, girl. Unless you want Malfoy to suffer before he dies.” Draco could sense glee emanating from Voldemort. He was excited at the prospect of torturing another of Harry’s friends.

Just kill him, Hermione, Draco willed. Forget me, and kill the bastard.

Hermione threw her wand. It hit the floor and skid. Voldemort snarled.

“Clever girl, but we don’t want to tempt Potter unduly, do we?” The Dark Lord Accioed her wand from where it had landed near Harry. “Come here.”

Hermione’s wand joined the others in Voldemort’s possession and she walked forward calmly. The Dark Lord released Draco’s shirt, only to reach up and snatch a fistful of hair at the base of Draco’s neck and twist him around to face Hermione.Her huge brown eyes met Draco’s solemnly. She tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Tell me, Mudblood. Why are you willing to die for Malfoy?” Voldemort asked curiously. “By all accounts, he hates your kind.”

“I love him,” she said simply. Draco shut his eyes against the surge of emotion that rushed over him. How could she? Voldemort snarled a laugh.

“That seems to be a common malady today. Fatal, in this case. Severus, give her the potion.”

Hermione’s glance shifted to Snape, who handed her the purple vial. She took it and held it up questioningly.

“Doleovenen,” Snape commented.

“A particularly nasty poison. It takes quite a long time to kill its victim. Extraordinarily painful, as well. Are you certain you won’t allow Malfoy to take it? You can still save yourself. I’m sure you don’t want to die.”

For reply, Hermione uncorked the vial and tossed the cork aside. She held the potion in her right hand and prepared to drink.

“May I say goodbye, first?” she asked. Without waiting for a response, she stepped forward and pressed her lips tenderly against Draco’s. At the same instant, he felt her left hand touch his wrist. Something hard slid beneath his sleeve—good God, it was a wand! He kissed her hard, begging her without words to escape. His mind was reeling—why hadn’t she kept the wand for herself? Used it?

“It’s done,” she whispered when the kiss ended and her actions were suddenly clear. The Horcrux. It was gone, but she couldn’t cast a Killing Curse on Voldemort—it simply wasn’t in her. But she knew Draco could.

“I love you,” he murmured. The surprise and warmth in her eyes dulled some of Draco’s pain, but Voldemort’s next words brought it crashing back.

“Drink up, girl.”

Draco reached for the wand in his sleeve as Hermione stepped back and lifted the vial in a salute. She tipped the contents into her mouth. Her eyes were on Voldemort, holding his attention. Draco tugged the wand out. He willed Hermione to spit out the poison, but Voldemort suddenly touched the wand to her cheek and whispered a command.

“Swallow.” Hermione, caught by the unspoken Imperius Curse, obeyed just as Draco touched the wand to Voldemort’s chest and whispered, “Avada Kedavra.”

The Dark Lord screamed.

[Liz-Miia Parker]

OMG !
HHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAA! Okei, täitsa puusse siis. Näädsa, lucius ikkagi on täitsa okei...poja suhtes ! Ta teadis mida ta teeb. Aga samas deeem,oleks taht Hermi reaktsiooni näha, kui ta oleks Dracot surnuna näinud.
Muidu vinge...ja voldi annab nüüd otsad...riiight ?
NEXT!