He’s forced to choose.
He shouldn’t be surprised, and he’s not; but for it to actually come down to the moment he feels his heart ready to burst from his chest.
His throat felt like it closed when he heard his father call his name and the air was pulled from his lungs when he heard his mothers whispers behind.
Draco couldn’t bear to pull his eyes to focus on theirs, because he knew that the second he would; in that slight second of weakness, he would crack and the pieces of the facade he’s so carefully constructed would smash. His thinking would crumble and everything that he’s fought and worked so hard for the past few years would be for nothing.
He centers his attention instead on his friends. A quick glance at Hermione and Ron who boar heartbroken expressions, the same one that matches his own. Hands joined as they sway lightly from the exhaustion that weighs on them, the weight of the world on their shoulders.
He follows their gazes to the sight before them, a drift between two sides as Voldemort celebrates the enemies downfall, and Draco has to compose himself rapidly before he follows everyone’s gazes.
Finally, he focuses on Harry.
Harry’s limp and frail body that Hagrid cradles so gently in his arms, that he hasn’t let go since he emerged from the woods. Draco pushes back the tears that threaten to spill past stormy eyes and forces them back over to Ron and Hermione, sending a small nod their way; a way of understanding.
Deep down he knows that they know what choice he’s made, mind made up as his feet carry him.
Except for they carry him past the path that was destined for him and to the one he created for himself.
He keeps walking across the dusty ground, past his mothers quiet sobs and fathers disappointed sigh. He walks past surprised death eaters gasps and Voldemorts angry yell.
Draco allows his legs to pull him towards the direction of his friends, carefully embraced between Hermione’s relived cries and Ron’s pat on the back.
He lets his walls break as tears start to slid down his face, holding the two tightly for another second before letting go to face to reality behind him.
Hermione guides him by her side to the rest of the group, hesitation at his present looming over them.
It feels like hours before the celebrations from the other side quiet down as they cheer and dance across the ground, short lived as Draco holds his breath waiting for something to happen.
And he doesn’t wait long.
His Shock mirrors the rest of the student body as suddenly Harry slips from Hagrids arms, tumbling to the ground and back on his feet.
Draco’s breathing hitches as he runs towards Harry, catching the elder wand thrown to him, time slowing as he clasps his fingers around the wood, ready to finish the fight.
And even in the midst of battle, he can’t help but to let a small smile grace his lips; knowing that he’s made the right choice.