Draco
6.30
Time is a funny thing. A year to a 4 year old is a quarter of their life. A year to a 17 year old is much shorter. Draco thought back on his past year, and cringed. The necklace and poison were sloppy, but it was the best thing they were able to come up with in the time frame he was given. At least Granger was able to fix the cabinet when he failed.
Climbing the steps to the astronomy tower, he twirled his wand nervously. They had practiced what he’d say to Dumbledore, but he was still worried something would go awry. He had to play it until the last second, and then secure safety for his mother and himself. Snape would take care of the rest, thanks to his unbreakable vow.
He’d like to say he hated that Dumbledore would die, but that would be a lie. It’s war, people die. Granger was pretty put out about it, but came to terms when she realized it was inevitable due to his curse. She cried, and he hated to see her so sad, but he got to hold her while she cried. A loss and a win.
He reached the top of the stairs, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
1.7
“Legilimens,” he whispered under his breath. The third year in front of him stopped screaming. He soothed the inside of their mind, and locked them away momentarily.
“You think you can look at Slytherins?” He sneered at them. “You don’t deserve to fold my robes, and it’s time you learn your place. Crucio!”
In the part of his brain he was using to control their mind, he had them start screaming again. Alecto came around the corner and saw the exchange. Her smile disgusted him.
“Good job Draco dear. I’m so proud to see you coming into your own. Don’t forget you can come see me anytime….for anything.” She smiled at him again in what his guess was a seductive matter. He fought back a cringe, but couldn’t stop his sneer.
He removed himself from the child’s mind and stalked away. Disgusted with himself and his surroundings. He had things to do.
“Theo, can you do me a favor?” He approached him in the common room he definitely didn’t just run to.
“What do you want, Malfoy?” He glanced up from the time he was reading.
“Next time you see your shadow, tell it to stay the fuck put.” He blinked twice.
“Eat shit Malfoy.” He blinked three times.
3.30
He was going to be sick.
The three of them were dumped on his floor by fucking snatchers and he had no idea what to do about it.
His aunt asked him to identify them, and he lied through his teeth while fortifying his walls.
This is so fucked.
The rat drug Weasley and Potter to the dungeons. He stood in the corner doing nothing. They had discussed prior what would happen if they got captured. He just had to get them all in one spot away from prying eyes.
“Draco, darling, go to the dungeons and see what’s taking Pettigrew so long to return,” his aunt purred to him softly. She was pacing around Granger on the floor, who was whimpering softly. He intentionally didn’t look at her.
“Yes, Aunt Bella.” He turned stiffly and marched down the stairs. At the end he was surprised to find Peter dead on the floor. Shocked, but not disappointed.
“Quick work Potter, but what now,” he asked.
“His fucking hand strangled him. Are we ready to call Dobby? Can you get Hermione down here?” Harry was wringing his hands, an anxious habit.
“Call him now and have him take Lovegood, Olivander, and the goblin. Be ready to leave when I get back with Granger. Remember the plan.”
He cast a silencing charm and stalked back up the stairs. He was steeling his walls when he reached the top.
His stomach dropped. Fuck.
The Dark Lord was kneeling over Granger, she herself was unconscious. This was not part of the plan. Ad lib then.
He dropped to his knees. “My lord forgive me. I was unaware of your arrival. Pettigrew was caught up…antagonizing the ginger one. I left him to his joys. Do you wish me to drag this one to him as well?” His calm was perfect.
To his surprise, the Dark Lord answered. “Yes Draco, bring this one downstairs. I believe I wish to study her, see how a mudblood gained such skill. Bring me the one dear Bella believed to be Potter. Leave Wormtail to his perversions. His skills are not needed right now.”
“Yes my Lord,” he stood, walking towards Granger. Forcing a sneer, he grabbed her by the ankle and started dragging her away. When he was out of ear shot he cast a cushioning charm on her head so it wouldn’t bang against the stairs.
“Potter!” He hissed. “Come get her. Quickly. She looks like fucking death.” Half way down she had picked her up. Cradling her to his chest he ran the rest of the way.
Weasley took her. Probably for the best for what was about to happen.
“Are you ready?” Potter asked him.
“No but do it. She needs a healer. See to it.” He stood tall.
Potter nodded. “Sorry mate.”
He then punched him right in the face. Draco saw stars as he went down. He hit the floor with a thud. Potter ripped his wand from his hand. Draco hadn’t meant to hold on so tightly, but habits are hard to break.
Potter grimaced but continued. He kicked Draco in the gut. Then the face. That broke his nose.
“Stupefy.”
5.2
Seeing her again was like a breath of fresh air, even if they were both covered in ash and blood. Her curls were matted and her clothes were filthy, but she was gorgeous nonetheless. Reuniting with her had been the highlight of his life.
He hoped the next 20 minutes would come to overshadow it.
Voldemort had called Potter to the shrieking shack. He was praying to Merlin or anyone listening that Granger was right and the noseless bastard couldn’t kill him.
That hope sank when he saw Hagrid carrying his body.
Fucking Potter.
He was still standing by his parents, but he was dying to run to Granger. He watched her break down in tears, Weasley barely holding her up. He wished it was him.
Voldemort was rambling on, calling his name. He was torn on how to play this, when suddenly, Longbottem unsheathed a massive sword and decapitated that disgusting snake.
Potter jumped out of Hagrid’s arms. Fuck yeah.
Draco took off running towards him. “Potter! Here!” He threw him the wand his mother had given him. Draco diverted course and was heading towards Granger while Harry explained his survival to He who Shall Soon be Dead. He heard something about his own wand.
He reached Granger right as they started casting. Their spells met in the middle. Potter, being the master of death, overtook him with ease. The spells hit Voldemort right in the chest.
And nothing happened.