Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Oath Breaker ❯ Light and Dark ( Chapter 25 )

Part 25

Draco's besom clattered to the floor. He hated to drop it, but Draco knew he couldn't escape with a wriggling Harry otherwise. Before Harry could prove how brave he was, Draco clamped one hand around Potter's mouth and wrapped his arm around his waist, dragging him backwards. Although Harry struggled, fear lent Draco strength enough to pull him behind a tall shelf with only a few gaps of missing books.

His rush backwards made them slip on several fallen books and torn pages, making enough noise to catch the dark lord's attention. Draco heard Voldemort's hiss and threw himself on his side, bringing Harry with him to the floor as the top of the shelves exploded in flames. Burning pages fluttered around them.

"Let me go--" Harry growled, twisting in Draco's grip.

Draco didn't bother to answer. Nothing he could say would change Harry's suicidal mind. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed Harry's waist with both hands, digging his heels into the carpet as he yanked him farther down the aisle away from the dark lord. Taking advantage of the knowledge that Harry would not hurt him, Draco dug his fingers into Harry's skin hard enough to leave deep bruises. He ignored the other boy's grunt of pain as he pulled him along.

"Potter!" Voldemort screeched, his voice tense and cold. "Come face me, boy!"

They were at the far end of the aisle now. Draco looked over his shoulder. So close, just a few more feet and they would escape the high shelves and reach the door.

Two arms came out of the seemingly solid shelf and grabbed him, pulling him in and taking Harry with him. A strong hand covered his mouth and muffled his scream. Beside him Harry grappled with another hand clamped firmly over his mouth.

"Quit squirming, you idiots!"

The hissed whisper made Draco freeze. He knew that voice. As soon as he stopped struggling, the hand lifted and he turned, grabbing Harry and shaking his head silently to make him stop. Harry's eyes widened in confusion and although he stilled, the hand didn't leave his mouth. Draco looked up but Severus didn't offer an explanation. Both of them knew better than to trust Harry on his own.

The tiny room Severus had dragged them into was barely big enough for all of them. If Draco had put his arm out, he could have touched Voldemort. Just a few feet away on the other side of the illusion of a bookshelf, the dark lord's robes slid along the carpet, the soft rustle like snake scales gliding along the floor. Draco pressed against Harry and buried his face in his robes, closing his eyes when he felt Harry hold him.

The dark lord's breath grew loud in the silence, overwhelming Draco's senses. Voldemort paused right in front of them, listening for the slightest slip, the tiniest crinkle of a page. Draco held his breath and felt his master raise his wand, not risking a spell unless he had no choice.

A muffled explosion from below made the shelves shake and tipped teetering books onto the floor. The distant rumble sounded like thunder but Draco knew it had to be Pansy and Daphne sending the water over the first wave of their enemies.

The sound called to Voldemort and he forgot searching for the two boys for the moment, intent on joining his army on the ground. His rasping breath faded as he left the library, but neither Draco nor Severus moved for several long seconds, waiting to make sure it wasn't a trick.

Finally Severus sighed and lowered his arm, releasing Harry at the same time. Although Harry tried to yank himself away from the older Slytherin, he couldn't budge Draco. With an irritated sigh, Harry put his hand on Draco's head, letting him hold on for a little while longer.

"What are you two doing here?" Severus whispered, still loathe to speak. "I thought you were going to the

Room of Requirement."

"We did," Harry said when Draco didn't answer. "But first we had to go to the kitchen and--"

"Spare me the details of your adventure," Severus said. "How do things stand now? Draco?"

Harry's jaw snapped shut as he was ignored. Draco swallowed once and turned his head slightly so his voice wouldn't disappear in Harry's robes.

"McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick are dead," he whispered. "So's Fenrir. All of us in the Room of Requirement flew to the Great Hall, and we got the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs free."

"The headmaster?"

"Still alive." Draco slowly forced himself to stand straight, although he kept Harry's robes clutched in his hands. "Hogsmeade's in flames. There's an army--vampires, giants, other things--there's no way anyone's coming to help."

"The students?" Severus asked.

"Defending the castle with Dumbledore, but I don't think they'll last long." Draco took a deep breath and eyed Harry, knowing he wouldn't like what came next. "I came to find my father and prepare to withdraw the Slytherins somehow."

"What?" Harry stared at him in betrayal. "You said--"

"--that I was going to find my father," Draco said. "I never said we'd stay to commit suicide."

Although he knew it was inevitable, Draco still flinched when disappointment filled Harry's eyes.

"I kept believing you were brave," Harry whispered. "Even when everyone told me you were a coward, I still believed in you."

"I never pretended I was anything else," Draco snapped with more force than he'd intended. The tiny room felt far too cramped and he longed to get out, even if that meant facing the dark lord's army. "Severus, my father?"

"Probably with his Knights in the hospital wing," Severus said, not commenting on their argument. "Pomfrey might have the last potions ingredients in the castle, but the dark lord surprised us. In the confusion, we were separated. Luckily the castle hid me."

Muffled crumps of explosions and quick spell blasts made him want to rush, but Draco took a few seconds to consider his options. The children were already gone, safely flying through the night. Hopefully they would escape unnoticed. To extract the rest of the Slytherins, however, he would need magical ingredients and possibly a complicated spell to escape from Hogwarts and its anti-apparition charms. His memory flew back to the Room of Requirement. No doubt something there could help, but he dismissed that thought almost immediately. He simply didn't have time to look.

"To the hospital, then," he said softly.

"You can run and hide," Harry growled. "I'm going after--"

"You're coming with me," Draco hissed, "if I have to float your unconscious body through the castle."

A little surprised that Draco looked at him with such hostility, Harry stood straight and met his glare. "I'm not running."

"So you'll throw away every student down there?" Draco asked, gratified to see Harry blink. "You know they can't hold out for long. If you want to have a wizarding world to save, you'll help me find a way out of here. For all of us."

Harry stood still for a moment digesting that thought, but the moment took too long and Severus pushed his way out from between them, grumbling low in the back of his throat.

"When you two idiots finish bickering, perhaps you'll remember there's a war on," he said.

Draco almost snapped back, but he reminded himself that Snape was immune to the Malfoy temper and kept his thoughts to himself. There wasn't enough time to trade barbs, not when he had to convince Harry to act sensibly.

"Your friends or your fight," he said. "Which is more important?"

"If I kill Voldemort, then my friends will be safe," Harry said.

"You think that army will collapse if the dark lord dies?" Draco shook his head. "Maybe before the fight started, but now the die is cast. After what they've done, there's no way the dark lord's army will surrender."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Harry argued. "We could negotiate, send them away, anything to just stop fighting--"

"They'll stop fighting when you're dead," Draco said. "Harry, please, you aren't dark. I am. We don't give up for anything. We might run, we might hide for a thousand years. But we don't surrender."

Harry opened his mouth to argue again, but Draco raised his hand to cut him off.

"We don't have time for this. Please, damn it, don't fight me."

At the furious look on Harry's face, Draco grasped his wand ready to stupefy him.

"Fine," Harry forced out between clenched jaws. "But if I see Voldemort--"

"You'll do your best to throw your life away, I get it," Draco grumbled.

Keeping close behind Severus, Draco and Harry left the library, retrieving their brooms on the way out. The way to the hospital was surprisingly clear. The worst obstacles in their path were a handful of charred bodies, the blackened skin sloughing off in messy handfuls as they passed. Draco forced himself to look straight ahead and not jump at a groan of escaping air from a nearby body's mouth. It was one thing to kill. Walking amongst the dead was a completely different matter.

The sound of his father's voice drove his anxiety away. As they came into the hospital, Draco counted a handful of Knights sitting on the beds tending cursed and jinxed comrades while the rest crowded around Pomfrey's ingredients. Although he relaxed a bit to see his father in their midst, he grimaced at the confused discussion.

"You can't mix gillyweed and illpop roots," someone snapped. "Not unless you want an explosion."

"Don't bother explaining," someone else said. "Goyle never got beyond third year potions."

"Like yer so much better," the elder Goyle grumbled. "'Sides, don't we want an explosion for outside?"

"Yes, outside, not in here," Lucius sighed, holding a gloved hand to his temple trying to ward off a headache. Somehow over the cacophony of voices he heard the footsteps at the door and raised his head.

"Thank God," he said, his voice tinged with relief as he saw Draco and Severus. "You're both all right. Get in here and make something useful."

"As you command," Severus said with a touch of annoyance, giving Lucius' drawl a run for its money, but he obeyed and pushed the Knights out of his way. Most of Pomfrey's furniture and bottles had smashed on the floor in Voldemort's first strike, but a few remained intact and had been gathered on the table.

Harry stopped at the door, refusing to walk any further, and Draco found that he couldn't scold Harry for acting rationally for once. He wouldn't have walked into a room full of aurors either, even if they all swore they wouldn't hurt him.

"You won't take off after the dark lord, will you?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head once. "I promised, didn't I?"

"Not many of the people I know often keep their promises," Draco said, but he smiled despite himself. There was something to be said for Gryffindor honor. "Keep watch then."

"On both sides," Harry said, glaring at the room full of former death eaters.

After leaving his besom by the door, Draco stood beside Severus and surveyed what little they had. A handful of cracked jars, some spilled rowan, and an assortment of medical herbs. He grimaced. This was going to get messy.

"No time for finesse," Snape said. "We'll have to create yaga artifacts."

Draco nodded in understanding and raised his hand to catch his father's attention. "Bring us little things like combs or needles or--or thimbles if you find any."

"I know what you mean," Lucius said and directed his Knights to gather what the two potions masters wanted. Draco felt a little odd giving his father orders but rationalized that he was simply telling his commander what he needed.

"And a knife if you can find one," Severus called after him.

The thought of how much blood each spell would need made Draco flinch as a woman he recognized as Nott's mother lay a scalpel before them. This was yet another duty of an apprentice, serving as the source of blood for the master. He bit his lip in thought. Harry was so keen on sacrifice, maybe he would volunteer if asked--

"Hey, it's the Potter brat."

Everyone was a former death eater stared at Harry, old habits demanding the boy's capture. The room suddenly fell silent. Draco wasn't sure to go for his wand or stop Harry from raising his, but neither of them had to. A blast of blue light covered the wall in sharp slivers of ice directly beside the woman who'd spoken. Her jump and Lucius' angry face made it impossible to tell if that had been a warning shot or if he'd missed.

"Yes, it's the Potter brat," Lucius hissed. "And he's here to fight the dark lord, so unless any of you want to take on our former master?" When no one answered, he lowered his wand again. "Good. Miriam, you heard Draco's order. Move."

The search took only a minute. Most of the bedside tables were empty, with just a couple of leftover combs and one hairbrush. Pomfrey's desk yielded a few needles and hair ties, but almost everything else lay smashed beneath the fallen cabinets. Lucius lay the last salvaged item, a large button, on the table.

"Your ribbons as well," Severus said.

Lucius and Draco both stared at him, but he met their stares and after a few seconds both father and son pulled off the ribbons holding their hair back with a grumble.

"Draco," Severus said. "It's time. No more stalling."

With a long-suffering sigh, Draco picked up the scalpel and held it to his palm, glancing at his master. Snape shook his head once. Draco slid the scalpel up to his wrist, and this time Snape nodded. Squeezing his eyes shut, Draco slashed the sharp edge across his veins.

To his surprise, there was no pain. The scalpel had been spelled not to hurt. Nevertheless watching his blood flood over the metal and drip onto the table made him tremble. His legs felt weak and chills spread through his body. He dropped the scalpel and held his arm so it wouldn't shake and embarass him.

Severus gathered the combs, needles, brush and button in the growing puddle, coating them completely and sprinkling on what was left of Pomfrey's feverfew and vervain. Once he no longer needed Draco's blood, he hastily pushed his apprentice's arm out of the way and began his incantation.

Left to heal himself, Draco reached for his wand only to find his right hand trembling worse than his left. His fingers wouldn't close on the slender shaft of wood. He'd seen blood before, but never this much of his own.

Fortunately he did not have to heal himself. His father's hand closed around his arm and held it up at a better angle for his healing spell. The wound was too deep for the usual flicking away, but shallow enough that the dark spell knit the veins and skin back together quickly. Once that was done, Draco leaned on the table and closed his eyes. After everything he'd gone through today, he was starting to feel hollow.

The castle shuddered as if struck once, then twice. Lucius left Draco's side to look out the window, cursing under his breath.

"There's no more time," Lucius said, coming back to the table. "They've broken through the western wall. Gather what we have. With any luck, we'll be able to shore it up again."

While everyone moved past him, Draco took a few seconds to catch his breath and steady his nerves. Severus grabbed the pile of combs and needles and held them gingerly in his hands, but as he turned he didn't notice the broken comb that slipped between his fingers and landed back in Draco's blood.

Draco picked it up and held it tight in his fist. It looked like the rest of the Knights expected him to bring up the rear, and he might need that little comb. He turned and jogged after them, picking up his besom and keeping pace beside Harry, and wondered if the Knights would be annoyed if he flew instead of walked.

"Doesn't seem like they're trying to find a way out," Harry said, one eyebrow raised.

"Maybe he thinks we can still win," Draco replied. He wished he had time to talk to his father, to learn what his plan was. Or perhaps it was better to believe his father had a plan and that he wasn't doing what Draco did, improvise and con his followers into thinking he knew what he was doing.

Harry opened his mouth to answer but a shout from closeby cut him off. A bolt of green light struck the ceiling overhead, knocking chunks of stone down on them, and everyone separated and pressed against the walls to make themselves smaller targets. The sounds of rapid fire spells came back from the front of the group, but Draco had no way of telling what had happened. Probably run into a group of Death Eaters looking for stragglers up here. From the sound of the spellfire, they wouldn't be going forward anytime soon.

"Pull back!" someone yelled.

Sliding along the wall, Draco trusted the rest of the knights to keep the Death Eaters occupied and turned his attention to the way they'd just come. Spells occasionally smashed into the floor and ceiling, sending fiery streaks along the stone or smashing holes in the wall, but Draco forced himself not to freeze or slow down. He kept his eyes focused on the far corner, knowing that if he made it, he'd be out of their range of attack.

Because of that focus, he saw the pack of night things come around the corner before they even noticed him. Hags with straggly hair and crooked teeth, a pale and fanged daughter of Annis, a raw head with its skinless body. Their mouths dripped with fresh blood, their claws were covered with strings of gore. Voldemort had chosen his army well.

Although he was of age, Draco was close enough to his childhood to feel the primal fear of the devourers of children. His besom clattered forgotten to the floor. Casting a protego charm felt like a waste of precious seconds as they came towards him, clinging to the shadows along the wall, and he aimed his lightning at the closest one, catching the hag in the chest and throwing her blackened body against the far wall where she burst into cinders.

A spell from Harry's wand caught the Annis on fire but it refused to collapse, and Harry had to cut it apart piecemeal before it finally fell. By that time the raw head had reached them, its long arms and legs carrying it swiftly towards Draco.

He cast an athamia spell to cut off its arms, but the spell slid off the creature's bones and struck the wall. As its hand wrapped around his throat, he tried a hemoragia spell. The creature ignored the blood coagulating on its body as if it didn't feel and hauled Draco off the ground, jerking him towards its gaping mouth. Through gritted teeth he ground out the only spell he could pronounce without air, strican. The jolt of black energy from his wand knocked the raw head off center, and its teeth closed over his shoulder instead of his throat. Small comfort as blood spurted around its mouth.

Draco was slammed into the wall at the same time he heard Harry call out a haetus heorte spell. The raw head let him go to scream and put its hands over the gaping hole where its heart should have been. Flames and black ichor poured out of its body. Its arms flailed and caught Harry across the face, but even knocked to the floor, Harry held his wand straight at its head and yelled a sectum sempra.

The raw head cracked as more black liquid bubbled from the wound, and another spell forced the crack wider. Draco clamped his hand over the bite on his shoulder and scrambled back along the floor trying to get away as its wild movements smashed everything around it. It stood straight, shrieking in an impossibly high voice, and crushed part of the ceiling.

When the floor shifted under him, Draco's first thought was relief as the raw head slid backwards and tumbled away. Only as he started to slide as well did he realize the castle was coming apart. He turned on his hands and knees and tried to grab the wall, the floor, anything to keep from falling. As the floor slanted even more, he saw the break in the corridor just a few feet in front of him and Miriam aiming her wand at him. He felt himself lift a few inches as she pulled him towards her, but a red flash set her robes on fire and blasted her wand out of her hand. Her screams drowned in the rumbling as huge blocks of masonry tumbled around him.

Freefall. He saw his wand plunge over the side before he did and suddenly he was outside, the winter air turning his breath to steam. For an instant he saw the entire battlefield.

His father was wrong. The enemy hadn't broken through. The students had collapsed the wall themselves, using the castle itself as a weapon to bury their enemies. Young wizards and witches peered through the windows alongside what looked like dozens of elves, but he couldn't be sure from his quick glimpse.

Beside him he saw surprised vampires and goblins and nameless shadowy things with luminescent eyes clinging to chunks of the wall as they fell. Swaths of Voldemort's army covered the grounds surrounding the castle and a massive heap of broken bodies lay against the trees, crushed by Pansy and Daphne's flood. Centaurs stood just outside the forest attacking their flank. Dumbledore had his own allies, including the creeping carpet of spiders surrounding the giants.

Something heavy struck his shoulder. He shrieked in pain and tilted in the air to see the ground rise up towards him. Natural magic protection or not, he didn't want to crash with huge stones falling around him, but he had no wand, no besom--but he did have something sharp in his hand.

He threw the broken comb down ahead of him and when it landed on the dirt, thick vines exploded into the air. It pushed giants and bodies and vampires out of the way as it spread in all directions around the castle, providing yet another barricade and cushioning Draco's fall, setting him gently down in the middle and growing over his head, sheltering him from the remaining fragments falling after him.

He spotted his wand within arm's reach, held aloft by twisting tendrils as the vines stopped growing. As he yanked it free with his left hand, the vines suddenly hardened and turned brown and sprouted long thorns. He gingerly brought his arm back and scraped himself only a little. Once he was free, he cast a quick spell to slow the bleeding in his shoulder, but he knew that he'd need a real healer to mend the bite.

One athamia spell after another cut through the vines, but he hesitated near the edge. The battlefield raged all around him. Between the thorns and tendrils he watched the childrens' spells cut down monsters and Death Eaters alike, and he knew if he made it to the windows that they would likely attack him, too.

He peered out at Voldemort's army trying to gauge its strength. Although they had suffered losses, the battle was by no means decided yet. While the common soldiers lashed out at each other, the major players had not yet stepped onto the field.

Then Voldemort's army parted and Draco saw the dark lord himself crossing the grounds and stepping over bodies in his haste. At first Draco had no idea what he was so focused on, but he looked further down Voldemort's path and noticed the huge muddy stretch of land where Pansy and Daphne had thrust the lake. Broken furniture, grindylow bodies and assorted junk had come up with it, and he noticed his master's scattered potions ingredients and a cracked desk cracked. As Voldemort got closer to Snape's things, Draco spotted it. A plain box with its lid flipped up and the Malfoy grimoire half-standing for all to see.

If the dark lord got his hands on that, all the dark lore and tradition he'd been denied for years and years, the war would end.

Draco sliced the last vines in his path and aimed his wand as Voldemort bent to grasp the book. His accio spell brought his grimoire safe in his hand, but it also brought Voldemort's attention. The blizzard, the dragons, the Prophet, Harry, everything of the past few months faded and he was back where he began, standing in front of the dark lord with the world on fire around him.

But one thing was different. Voldemort's eyes had widened in startlement when the book flew out of reach, and when he looked at Draco, a moment had passed before he realized it had been spelled away. A natural reaction, a reaction bred of a childhood spent without books that read themselves and toys that danced at a word.

"Mudblood," Draco whispered.

For years his pureblood parents had served Voldemort, obeyed him out of admiration and then fear. The dark lord rallied the wizards and then trapped them in his dark mark. He terrorized them, used them up as canon fodder and let them languish in Azkaban until he needed them again. All this time, Draco had been afraid of a vicious, spiteful mudblood. His indignation temporarily pushed aside his paralyzing fear.

This time as Voldemort drew near, eyes boring into his own, Draco did not freeze. At the first sharp touch into his mind, he turned and ran.

Plunging wildly across the battlefield, Draco threaded his way beneath giants and past vampires, out of their reach before they even noticed him running by. Spells passed behind and in front of him and blasted the creatures around him. Bodies fell out of his way or dropped down in his path, and he rolled over a dead giant to land at full speed on the other side. A centaur's arrow missed him and sank into the eye of a werewolf coming towards him.

The grimoire dragged at his mangled shoulder, but he didn't stop. If he could get around the castle to the far side of the forest, perhaps he could disappear with the book. He knew he had a chance. Draco knew he could outrun dragons.

But dragons couldn't cast spells. He slipped while running across the mud and as he stumbled forward, a green spell flashed overhead and struck the ground in front of him. Mud and rocks exploded from the earth. When he opened his eyes, he found a impossible crater before him. Too far to jump, too wide to pass before another spell hit him.

He shifted the book to his bloodied arm and raised his wand, but Voldemort simply stood several meters away and watched as three giants stomped towards him, their clubs ready to smash him into the mud. Draco swallowed once. Too close, too close, even if he killed one there was no way he could stop the other two. Why should the dark lord bother killing him? He thought of apparating but the lake water hadn't eaten through the castle's strong wards.

So when the first giant fell over, cut in half at the waist, Draco thought he was hallucinating. The other two giants looked around in shock trying to see who'd cast that spell, and a second later their heads slipped off their shoulders at the same time, blood pouring out of their severed necks in a torrent.

Voldemort drew his wand and Draco took a step back, teetering at the edge of the crater. But after a second Draco realized Voldemort wasn't looking at him but rather something above him. Before he could look, something blurred in front of his face and blew his hair over his eyes. Harry dropped his broom and spoke over his shoulder, never looking away from the dark lord.

"You all right?" Harry asked, raising his wand.

"Alive," Draco said, tossing his head and his hair back.

Being shielded by Harry didn't make him feel safe. He felt instead like he had more to lose than his life. Clutching the book to his chest, he peeked around Harry as Voldemort came within dueling range.

"At last you face me," the dark lord said, his low voice carrying over the fighting. "Tonight I finish what I started seventeen years ago. Your mother isn't here to save you this time, boy. Any protection she gave you doesn't matter now."

"I don't need it anymore," Harry said. "I can take care of you myself."

They attacked at the same time. Draco heard the dark lord cast a killing curse but he didn't hear Harry's charm. Perhaps he didn't cast a specific spell but simply attacked with pure magic. It didn't matter. Their spells slammed into each other with a thunderclap that vibrated deep in Draco's chest. For the first time in his life, he saw two wands lock and saw the safeguards on magic fail. The air around him tore and crackled with life and their magic turned on itself and burned between Voldemort and Harry. He'd never imagined they were so powerful. Their wands channeled everything they had and turned the battlefield as bright as day and as hot as hell.

Draco whimpered low in the back of his throat and fell to his knees behind Harry, curling up with the grimoire in his lap. He was at the center of a hurricane. If he moved even a little in any direction, the storm would swallow him and tear him to pieces.

"Malfoy!" Voldemort roared. "Son of my right hand!"

What? Draco turned his head just enough to see the dark lord struggling to hang onto his wand.

"Strike Potter down! Strike him down and I will welcome your family back to your rightful place at my side. Strike him, and rule by my side!"

"Shut up!" Potter yelled through grit teeth as he kept both hands on his wand. "He won't listen to you!"

But Voldemort knew what to say to keep Draco listening through his fear. "I can destroy the Ministry! You can end the war between Merlin and Morgan right now!"

Destroy the Ministry. Destroy the wizards who slaughtered his kind for hundreds of years. All his ancestors demanded vengeance. The dark lord could give him vengeance. He could smash Azkaban and crush the Ministry underfoot. Even if the dark lord didn't care at all about his followers, he could still give them what they wanted.

"Kill Potter while he can't fight, and you will have power beyond your wildest dreams!"

"He's not like that!" Harry shouted, but his voice wavered as if he was trying to convince himself. "He's not--"

"He's a viper like the rest of his family!" Voldemort yelled. "Poisonous little coward, he has no choice but to join me! They all will!"

Peter Pettigrew, Draco thought. The dark lord had taken in that little coward and protected him. Even if he didn't trust him, the dark lord kept his promises.

One little jinx in return for the world.

He slowly stood and nodded once at Voldemort.

"Draco?" Harry's voice rasped, raw from the power moving through him. His uncertainty made him seem all the more vulnerable. He'd seen too much of Draco to be sure one way or the other.

"He's right about me," Draco said, unable to meet his eyes. "I am a viper."

Holding the spine of the grimoire in one hand, he drew close behind Harry and opened the book, letting the pages flip to a random page. Blood coated the cover and the edges of every page, and the book fell open to a circular diagram with complex symbols and glyphs.

"Your viper," Draco whispered. And he began to read.

Vampire-like, the book absorbed his blood. The little charms protecting his shoulder failed and the bite reopened with blood flowing down his arm again, dripping on the ground beneath him and mingling with the blood of the giants. The drops rippled through the blood and the expanding circles spread out around them. The circles didn't face but coalesced into visible rings that began to fill with strange swirls and lines that Draco couldn't read but that his blood knew. The diagram in the book drew itself and began to glow a faint red, casting the shadow of glyphs on Harry and himself.

The magic between Harry and Voldemort snapped, but while Harry stumbled and found his wand freed, the dark lord's magic circled the boys, trapped within the diagram. The glyphs shuddered and began to burst one by one as Voldemort's magic overpowered them.

"Now, Harry, kill him!" Draco couldn't force himself to speak above a whisper. "Quickly, before it breaks!"

But Harry didn't need to be told. He didn't try to attack Voldemort. Instead he held his wand straight, and without a word he summoned the trapped energy to himself. Voldemort's magic, Draco's diagram, and his own magic all funneled into his wand, leaving the battlefield dark and silent for a moment. Voldemort stared at him with his mouth open in shock.

"Goodbye Tom," Harry said simply, and released all of it back at the dark lord.

Wild without a spell to command it, the wave of magic flew at Voldemort and punched through him and into the earth. Voldemort howled in pain until his voice dwindled to nothing and his body stilled. His skin went from white to gray and cracked. His left arm broke off at the elbow, then the shoulder. His eyes dried out and crumbled to dust. Sucked empty of magic, his skull collapsed in on itself and his body disappeared in a thick mire of residual dark magic that melted into the rest of the mud.

No longer needed, the grimoire snapped shut and slipped from Draco's hand into the puddle of blood.

Harry held his wand up a little longer, then sighed and slowly lowered his wand. His shoulders drooped out of exhaustion, but his eyes were clear as he looked at Draco with a tired smile. "You all right?"

Just like that. No wild explosions, no desperate struggle with the last of their strength, not even a bit of applause. For some reason he'd imagined Voldemort's death would have some kind of dramatic music accompanying it. Draco wanted to go and spit in the mud just to make sure he was dead, but he couldn't force his legs to move.

If Voldemort's army noticed the loss of their leader, they didn't show it. When the light faded and only the partly-collapsed castle and distant Hogsmeade provided any light, the black shapes of things with far too many claws and fangs still flitted against the orange windows. Occasional bursts of light colored the battlefield but neither side showed any sign of slowing. The war was far from over.

"We need to get back to the castle," Draco said, summoning the grimoire back into his arms. "Before they see us."

For once Harry didn't argue. He called his broom to his hand and pulled Draco to sit sideways in front of him, then kicked up into the air so fast that Draco's stomach seemed to stay on the ground. In a instant, they saw the entire battlefield like a chaotic chessboard and not like the blood-strewn stretch of mud. Huge puddles of water gleamed in the firelight.

"Harry," Draco said, turning almost completely around. After months of riding his besom, flying awkwardly on a broom with proper charms felt like a luxury. "The Knights and my father, and Severus, did they get away?"

"They were fine last I saw," Harry said, but he didn't sound very confident. "I didn't see the end of the fight. I was coming after you, but I lost you when that big plant sprung up."

From the sky, Draco didn't think the wall of vines was all that big. Yaga combs usually spread their vines out for miles to stop powerful pursuers from catching their victims. The result from a broken comb was tiny in comparison. More important to him was how they were going to get back inside the castle. Half of the castle was impenetrable wreckage and the windows and main door were too full of fighting.

"Think you could clear a path for us?" Draco asked.

"...I don't think so," Harry said. He didn't even reach for his wand. "That last spell took a lot out of me. You?"

"The same. I need to get to a shower. I can feel dark magic clinging to me."

Harry frowned and brought them higher up, but every hall and exposed room was filled with rubble. Both Gryffindor and the Astronomy tower lay on the ground far below like smashed toys. He stared for a moment at the remaining upper level windows but their enemies may still have lurked inside and he didn't want to fly straight into another one of those rawhead things.

They were saved from having to make a decision by a powerful concussive force from below. The broom shuddered as it was pushed up, but the main blast went straight from the castle's front doors through the army itself. Giants tumbled along the ground while vampires and other lighter creatures flew backwards.

As the broom wobbled, Harry put his arm around Draco so he wouldn't fall and brought them around for a clear view.

A row of elves stood at the door, their hands raised as they moved forward step by step. They didn't look like Hogwarts elves. Their eyes had turned glittering black, their teeth looked sharp even from this distance, and their upraised hands ended in claws. They were still recognizable as elves, but even their torn pillowcase clothes had been exchanged for thick leafy vines draped over their bodies.

"Those elves are almost feral," Draco whispered. "They've gone back to the land."

"Not that I'm complaining, but where'd they come from?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. They--" Draco cut himself off and squinted, trying to make out the details one of their faces. Their gnarled bodies look much like one another, but he recognized the shortest one on the side, a young female elf with light gray skin. Filly, one of their house elves, and if she was here, that meant--

"She's alive!" Draco yelled, leaning forward and dangerously tipping the broom. "Get us down there now!"

Only Harry's arm kept Draco from leaping off. Taking them down behind the line of elves, Harry yelped as Draco slid off the broom before they'd landed. Draco hit the ground awkwardly and fell to one knee, but he didn't feel anything except elation and he stood up. All around him, students with cuts and burns and bruises all aimed their wands at him, lowering them as they realized he wasn't a monster who'd slipped in somehow. Dumbledore stood off to one side, his blackened arm now completely gone and his sleeve limp, giving further orders to a handful of students. And in the center of the room Lucius and Narcissa stood wrapped up in each other, oblivious to the world around them. Severus stood close but did not touch them, obviously loathe to do so in public.

"Mother?" Draco said softly.

Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her cheekbones were too prominent after months of not eating well, and a long scratch marred her cheek, but she smiled as she turned towards him, extending her arm. It was all the invitation he needed and he ran towards her, throwing his arms around her waist. Her cloak fell over him, soft and warm. He hissed as she touched his mangled shoulder, and she gently pulled the cloth away from the wound for a better look.

"My poor son," she whispered. "I am so sorry I did not come sooner."

"You're here now," he said. He sighed and took a step back, looking at her scar. Although he'd grown enough to look her in the eye half a year ago, he still wasn't used to seeing her face to face, not when he had to look up at almost everyone else. "Our elves found you?"

Narcissa nodded. "I'm glad you sent them after me. I wish you had taken Filly, though. It seems you needed some help here."

"Nothing I couldn't handle," he said.

The Malfoys all ignored Severus' snort of disbelief.

"Narcissa, Lucius," Severus began. "There is little time. We should--"

"They're running!" someone shouted.

Draco turned. Voldemort's army was indeed fleeing towards the forest, forced to cross the huge crater Voldemort had created and crushing each other in their panic as the centaurs picked them off from one side and the forest of thorned vines raked them from the other. Strange, he thought. The elves certainly helped, but there was no way they had done this on their own.

"Look!" Ron yelled, standing on a table and pointing out the window. "It's aurors!"

Aurors? Draco saw spells crashing into the army as they flew in on brooms, dozens of aurors all racing as fast as they could towards the school. His mind raced. Did that mean Hogsmeade was under wizard control again? What about the rest of the wizarding world? Was the Ministry still standing?

The students around the front door parted to let a handful of them land. His cousin Nymphadora and a few other aurors stepped inside, moving to talk to Dumbledore before Shacklebolt noticed the Malfoys in the middle of the Great Hall. Although they were on opposite sides of the large hole in the floor, it still felt far too close for both groups.

"Dark wizards," he growled.

Before Draco could raise his wand, Narcissa pulled him back while Severus and Lucius stood in front of them.

"They helped save the students--" Severus started,

"Then they won't mind laying down their wands," Shacklebolt said. "If they're innocent, they'll let us make sure."

"Us? Trust you?" Lucius scoffed. "You incompetent bastards couldn't even get here in time to do anything except mop up."

"The Ministry's been completely destroyed," a witch with an eyepatch said, her voice pure steel. "By Death Eaters and foul things we haven't seen in hundreds of years--"

"If you hadn't noticed," Severus said. "So has Hogwarts."

"Please," Dumbledore said, raising his hand to try and calm the aurors. "These dark wizards truly aided us. Without them, I doubt any of us would have survived. Please, it would be the height of hypocrisy to--"

Draco never knew what it was that startled the auror with the eyepatch. Perhaps a stray blast from the battlefield crashed too close, or maybe she saw one of the nameless night things creeping back into the darkness now that the war was lost. Or perhaps it was nothing more than a flickering shadow from one of the dying torches on the wall. Whatever it was, she shrieked and aimed her wand at Lucius, casting a quick spell that Lucius deflected. His motion of waving his own wand set the other aurors on alert, however, and all of them took direct aim at both Lucius and Severus.

Loud singing was their only warning. A wave of water crested out of the hole in the floor and doused the aurors, drenching them in an instant. Near the door, Pansy and May ran past them to Severus' side. The handful of Slytherins in the room also gathered around the Malfoys.

"Kept some of the lake in reserve just in case," Pansy whispered to Draco.

Nymphadora was the first to recover, trying to cast a spell and tossing her useless wand aside when she couldn't. Instead she drew a small glass vial from a pocket and uncorked the stopper, pulling her hand back to throw it. Draco recognized the pale green liquid inside as one of the many poisons he'd brewed himself, a vile recipe that would rot flesh from bone. He wondered if she even knew what it was.

"Rotianan!" he yelled in warning.

Severus didn't need the warning, easily yanking the potion from her hand and throwing it into the water far below, but Draco's yell prompted Narcissa to turn and head for the far door, dragging him with her. Pansy, May and the Slytherin students followed them, and Draco heard a few sharp curses from his father to cover their retreat.

His first thought was that he'd left Harry behind. Worse, he hadn't even been able to say goodbye. He quickly rationalized that Harry would be cheered as the world's savior and wouldn't need to worry about the stigma of befriending Draco. Killing Voldemort would surely excuse his behavior, especially with Draco gone.

They passed startled Ravenclaws who were busy shoring up the walls where they'd been breached and collected Slytherins as they went, running into Lucius' Knights and the remaining dark children near the rear of the school. The halfbreed children saw them and rounded everyone from one side closer, the half-troll picking up Vincent whose left leg showed deep slashes. Draco just hoped they weren't from anything contagious.

"...we cannot apparate," Severus said, his voice growing louder as he and Lucius caught up. "Unless you have a portkey, we will have to run for the forest."

"My cane will serve," Lucius said. They came around the corner and found the small group waiting for them. "Is this everyone?"

"Everyone they know about," Draco said. "Anyone we miss can slide under their notice."

"Then everyone get close," Lucius ordered. "If you can't touch the cane, then make sure you touch someone who can."

Draco knew better than to ask where they were going, but he couldn't help looking over his shoulder hoping Harry would appear and come with them. The hall remained empty.

"You cannot stay," Severus whispered beside him. "Our world is not his."

Of course not. A viper had no place in Harry's world, no matter how much either of them wanted otherwise. Draco stared at the floor and didn't reply. Perhaps it was foolish to believe the dark and the light could co-exist, and yet he found himself unwilling to give up that dream even now. A second later, the portkey drew him and everyone around him out of the castle.

tbc...

Author Notes:
1. yaga artifacts -- shamelessly stolen from Baba Yaga and other folktales where an item like a comb tossed over the shoulder can create huge mountains, wide rivers and giant forests.
2. athamia -- from the Old French attame, to cut or pierce
3. rotianan -- from the Old English rotian, to rot