Disarming Draco

Draco Malfoy was dead.

That was the thought that circled and plagued my mind right now. Not that Dumbledore had died, or that Snape had killed him, not that Voldemort's army had taken over, not even that I was currently waiting in the shadows of these underground tunnels for the prisoners we had come to rescue.

Just Draco Malfoy's death.

It had been exactly four weeks and five days since the night Dumbledore was killed, and the world as we knew it had crumbled in Voldemort's hands like paper. From the very minute, those Death Eaters penetrated the walls of Hogwarts, the second the life left Dumbledore's eyes- it all went to hell.

Hogwarts was compromised, damn near in utter ruins after the Death Eaters had their way there. Crumbling buildings, shattered glass, razed rooms- not a single inch of it remained what it had been. Those of us who had not run away or hid afterwards had tried to repair the damage, tried, and failed.

But the funerals were the worst of it all.

Walking through the desolate, ruined corridors finding body after body- fallen friends, peers, students, and teachers. Some had been fighting, some defending but most were just casualties, senselessly killed or caught in the crossfire during the attack.

Hannah Abbott.

Eddie Carmichael.

Cormac McLaggen.

Zacharias Smith.

Katie Bell.

Leanne Runcorn.

The list was long, too fucking long. So many innocent people, kids, they were all kids really, killed in the one place that was meant to be a sanctuary.

Never before had the walls of Hogwarts been breached so severely, never had the once sunny halls been devastated so thoroughly, painted in blood and dark magic, it's ground a graveyard for the children that were supposed to be protected.

But we had failed to do so, Dumbledore had failed, The Order had failed, and the rot that had begun in Hogwarts spread like wildfire through veins, pillaging towns, cities, and homes, cementing that the Dark Lord's reign had begun- and who could truly stop him with Dumbledore gone?

The Order had tried to assemble as quickly as they could, tried to save whoever remained- setting up safe houses, transporting and hiding half-blood and muggle-born Witches and Wizards, scavenging what was left.

Every hour, every day for four weeks and five days, The Order was working- I was working.

There was a small flash of light at the far end of the tunnel, a blink that ceased to exist as quickly as it was conjured- a warning to prepare myself. I steeled my spine against the jagged, decaying wall, my wand raising just enough for the small ball of light at the end to be seen.

Seen by Hermione, who hid in an alcove just twenty-five yards away, and seen by Ron and Harry, crouched low on the steps of the winding staircase ahead.

One flash was a warning to be prepared, but the real signal, the real moment I was anticipating was the flash of two reoccurring blinks of blue light from Hermione- because that meant the Death Eaters had arrived, it meant that the muggle-born Wizards held captive were about to come into sight, and that we had one chance, only one.

One chance to take out the three Death Eaters guarding their prisoners. It had to be swift, clean, and undetected, because the second the Death Eaters saw us, the second they realised this was an ambush- they would kill those prisoners, they would kill them before ever letting them be free.

Voldemort had begun rounding up half-blood and muggle-born Witches and Wizards not even one week after the first event, his armies piling through towns and into homes, killing anyone who opposed them and stealing any non-pure-blood away into the night.

To be taken back to Voldemort.

If the reports we had received and the rumours were to be believed, these captives were being tortured and violated in ways that would make even the strongest soldier sick- death was a mercy given to few.

The Order had received the report of this particular transport of prisoners three days ago, a deep agent giving us all the details we needed to intercept - how, what, when and where, and ultimately it was left to me, Ron, Harry, and Hermione to save them.

And yet despite knowing this, despite the severity and importance of this mission, of all the missions I had worked recently and devoted myself to- still all I could think was that Draco Malfoy was dead.

Information, true and honest information, had been scarce the first few weeks with so many of the Order members going into hiding, being taken, or killed, the communication lines were down. Thus, any news we received was often incomplete, inaccurate, or many, many days late.

Draco Malfoy had been killed four weeks and five days ago- and we received the news this morning.

The very same night Snape murdered Dumbledore, the night the Death Eaters had attacked, the night everything changed, Draco died- Avada'd by his own aunt Bellatrix Lestrange, if the rumours were to be believed.

Remus's face had been grave as he settled into his chair at the dining table this morning, his hands resting against the cold wooden top, fiddling aimlessly with the ring on his left hand. His voice was contemplative and rough as he spoke of the theories- Bellatrix had murdered Draco, Snape had murdered Draco, and Draco had killed himself.

Each one had made the lump in my throat grow and ache, each sentence made the burning in my lungs intensify until the bowl of cereal I had was untouched, until the coco pops were soggy and white in the cold milk.

I wasn't sure why it bothered me so much, wasn't sure why it had been in my mind all day- but I fucking hated it.

Draco Malfoy died, so fucking what? Katie had died, Cormac died, Hannah died, so many fucking people had died that night, had died since that night, good people, innocent people- and here I was unable to stop thinking about Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy who had tormented me tormented my family and my friends from the day that I met him. Draco Malfoy who had only grown crueller with age, who had become a carbon copy of his pure-blood fanatic father- he had nearly killed Katie Bell with the cursed object, nearly killed Ron with the poisoned mead, and that night he would have killed Dumbledore.

He was the last person I should waste a second thinking about, the last person who deserved to be grieved- and yet, the fact he was dead hadn't left me for even a moment.

It hadn't left me as I changed into my combat suit, not as I pulled on the skin-tight leather trousers and compression shirt, not as I laced my thick, metal-clad boots, or as I strapped on my knife belts, to my thighs, to my arms, and a sheath for my wand at my right hip.

It hadn't left me as we apparated deep into the main heart of central London, far under the city where a series of long, expansive tunnels ran, interconnecting through the entire country. It was how Voldemort transported his captives, where most of the dark and secret aspects of his work took place.

And hadn't left me while I stood waiting, sheathed by the shadows, anticipating the signal, about to do something good- and yet someone as dark as Malfoy was on my mind.

"Erin!"

A hissed whisper of my name ran through the deathly silence of the tunnel, bouncing off the cavernous walls, sharp enough that it cut through the fog hazing my brain, hazing my focus.

Only then did I realise that footsteps were crunching against the floor, coming closer and closer, only then did I see the two consecutive beams of blue light shining from Hermione's wand- the signal.

"Shit," I growl, twisting my body to face the direction Hermione was hidden in, where the group of prisoners and their captors would be appearing any second. I tighten my hold on my wand, my left hand instinctively going to the dagger strapped to my thigh.

I felt my blood thrumming in my veins as the low timbre of a male voice trickled through into this corridor, accompanied by several footsteps and the clanging of chains.

We all had a job- Hermione would take out the Death Eater at the back of the line, Ron and Harry would dispose of the one at the front and I would take out the Death Eater stationed in the middle, but first I had to cast off the chains the prisoners wore, I had to give them a fighting chance in case this all went to shit.

Several torch pits drilled into the upper walls lit to life as the first Death Eater turned the corner, mercifully not seeing Hermione. The flames bathed the blackness with light, only a few remaining unlit- ones we had strategically charmed to stay dark as a means of cover.

The lead Death Eater was tall, broad-shouldered, and walked with the type of arrogance that suggested that he was in charge- like holding seven chained people was the height of absolute power.

His face was obscured, the flames bouncing off the silver mask, the only change from the blackness he wore from head to toe. There was a metal chain in the palm of his leather-bound hand, and when he tugged, several more people came into view- attached to that chain, by their hands, like a long centipede.

Anger scorched to life in my chest, in my heart and veins and bones. The closer they got, the more I could see, the worse my fury roared inside me. Innocent people, good people, bound and tugged along like cattle, there were bruises and welts and blood on many of them, some limped, some sobbed, but they all looked utterly defeated.

I bit my cheek until I tasted metal, the hold on my wand hard enough to nearly snap it as the first Death Eater came into sight and I froze, the seconds feeling like hours as he gradually stalked past.

I waited, heart bleeding to reach out and grab those prisoners, to help them, but I waited. Counting the steps, counting the seconds one, two, three, four, five- and when the second Death Eater walked past me, I lunged.

The silver mask at the end halted upon seeing me emerge from the shadows- but before he could take a breath before he could even lift his wand, his body crumbled to the floor like a domino, silent and immovable. I saw a flash of bouncy fawn brown hair and knew Hermione had me covered.

"Diffinido!"

A scream broke from one of the shackled women before me, the sound of chains splintering apart echoing like a gunshot through the tunnel, the group splitting into two as the metal broke free- and then the shouts began.

"Don't let them get away, don't let them escape!" The lead Death Eater roared, and I saw a tiny ball of green light begin to form at the end of his wand, I saw him raise it to the sobbing man at the front, "Avada-"

A curse from behind him sent him stumbling forward with a pained grunt, one that hurt him but didn't dispose of him, didn't take him down. Worry bloomed in my chest, but I had to focus, had to trust that Ron and Harry would deal with it.

"Avada Kedavra!"

I threw myself forward as the curse barrelled at me, narrowly missing it as I skidded to a painful stop at the foot of one of the male prisoners, his frantic hands trying to break the chain free from the three others.

"Reducto!" I shot the curse behind me before I had even fully turned, hearing a grunt and the crumbling of the wall as I rose to my feet, ignoring the pain barking through my body and the sounds of my friends.

"Go, Erin!" Hermione hissed from my side, and I nearly shot her with a hex in surprise, not anticipating her at my side so quickly. I relaxed at the sight of her big brown eyes, and the way she was already working on the chains. "I've got this- Go!"

I sucked in a huge heave of breath as I turned on my feet, wand already up and blocking the hex being thrown- not at me, but at the people.

A shot from him, a block from me, a shot from me, a block from him- shot, block, shot, block, again and again.

"Diffinido," My attack struck him in the abdomen, and from the roar that escaped him, from the way his body pulsed, and he immediately pressed a hand to his side, I knew that the cut was deep and bleeding profusely.

I lunged to the side, using my last shot as a distraction to reach a small protruding emergency phone attached to the wall, just wide enough for me to duck and shield my face and upper body. My head throbbed with the exertion, but I forced the pain down, my wide eyes tracking across before me, to the free captives and Hermione, and a shield illuminating around them.

I heard the distinct sound of curses and spells being thrown from further down the tunnel, Ron and Harry still fighting against that Death Eater, clearly someone of high rank and high ability to be fighting them off two against one for so long.

I exhaled harshly at the sound of non-lethal, defensive spells that Ron and Harry threw, my heart clenching at the dark curses and hexes and forbidden spells being returned their way.

'Aim to disarm, not to kill.' That's what Harry always preached, that's what the Order prided itself upon- good in the face of evil. Never mind that there were no rules in this game, that the enemy had no boundaries and that a defensive spell was as useful as a slap when being hit with the Killing Curse.

"Avada Kedavra!" A low, venomous voice shrieked, and I jumped, digging my back into the jagged wall hard enough to hurt as a blast of green light shot past me, just missing my body, just an inch closer and I would be dead.

I was compromised in this position, and any seconds wasted was a second that could kill you.

"Expulso!" I struck out from behind the box, my palms cutting against the stones on the floor as I shot my attack straight at the man not even fifteen yards from me, pressed to the wall and tilting with a hand to his bleeding wound.

A thunderous bang sent him flying back, sprawling onto the floor in a heap, the sound of his body hitting the ground setting my teeth on edge. He groans, loud enough I can hear it over the ongoing battle ahead, and I don't let any mercy settle in me as he tries to rise.

"Confringo," I exhale, watching as the spell hits the wall beside the collapsed Death Eater and explodes into pieces that shake the ground before it crumbles like an avalanche- and the sound of the concrete crunching against his body, the way he screamed, made bile rise in my throat.

I waited for him to move, waited for him to get up- but he didn't.

I forced down the disgust clawing up my throat, forced down the tidal wave that threatened to pull me under as I sprinted forward, beckoned by a second luminous shield pitched up, four of the captives and Hermione inside.

I had planned to help with the chains, planned to help calm the captives and ready them to apparate, that had been the plan- but our plans never really went accordingly.

"Incarcerous," The final remaining Death Eater spat, and dread filled me as ropes shot from his wand, directly at an unsuspecting Ron and bound around his entire body in seconds. I gasped as my brother, my twin brother, dropped with a moan, his wand clattering beside his immovable body.

"Reducto!" Harry roared, and in the flames of the fire, I could see his green eyes burning with rage, an emotion that was unpredictable at best, especially for Harry. The second the spell left his mouth I began running- it wasn't enough.

"Harry, look out!" I scream, feel it tear from me with urgency and panic and fear but too late. Horror lances through me as Harry cries out, his body slamming back with the impact of a curse, the thump of his head against the floor making me gasp.

"Crucio," Harry groans, his body arching off the floor in agony as that Death Eater slowly, so slowly, saunters toward him. I hiss, throwing hex after hex, but every spell is slammed against a wall at his back, every spell useless against his shield. "Crucio!"

"Stop it!" I throw a stronger spell, a powerful one, and then a dangerous one, and it just hits and fades, hits and fades again and again, until my soft cries die under Harry's screams and I'm breathless, stood now only a few feet away. "Fucking stop!"

"Harry Potter, the boy who lived," The male crooned as he stood over Harry's gasping, convulsing body, and I could hear the smirk in his voice, hear the utter amusement "Not so strong now, are you?"

There was something terrifying about being helpless, something so debilitating and cruel about watching someone hold a loved one's life in the palm of their hand and be able to do nothing about it.

It was the kind of terror that made people panic, made them reckless and stupid, made them move without thinking- which is exactly what I did.

"Avada-"

"Erin, no!" Hermione screamed, but it was too late.

I felt the instant pain wreck through my body as I collided with his back, the impact sending tremors through us both. A whoosh of air exhaled from him, and almost in slow motion, we both tumbled forward, a flurry of limbs and curses.

The thud of us hitting the ground made me grit my teeth, muffling the cry that threatened to rip from me. He cursed, low and filthy as he collided face down into the dirt and grime of the floor, but the initial impact proved to be nothing.

"Stupid bitch," He swore, the muscles in his back constricting under my palms, forcing up against the weight of my body, against my hold on him. I grappled, the breath burning in my lungs as I tried to get a secure grip on my wand, to press it to him, stupefy him, freeze him, to do something.

He growled in fury, and I gasped when he jolted up, using the strength of his arms to toss me from his back and before I could gather my wits, before I could grab onto him, he turned- taking me with him.

My back slammed against the hard floor, winding me hard enough that I arched up gasping, a fog of tears hazing my eyes. Two legs straddled my hips, pushing down my lower body like straps, a large, calloused hand fought to trap down my left hand, the right caught between his knee and my thigh- and suddenly I was completely chained.

And my wand was nowhere in sight.

I screamed, thrashing under his weight, under the boulder of pressure I felt scorching to life in my chest- I screamed and screamed and screamed, fighting like I would tear myself in two if it meant being away from him, being free.

That's what this war had become about, not just justice, or good versus bad, it had become about freedom, and I would die before losing mine.

"Shut the fuck up!" The slam of a palm hitting my cheek, the taste of metal filling my mouth and pain lancing through my jaw up to my ear and skull. There was ringing in my head, and as I blinked through the dazzling pain, that menacing mask tormented my vision, accompanied by dots of white and black.

"Erin Weasley," He purred, the press of his wand at my neck tilting my face upward, and even through his mask, I could hear the grin in his voice, the victory slanting every soft syllable. I snarled, tossing my head but that just seemed to amuse him even more.

"Erin!" Hermione screamed my name, and when my eyes began to focus, when the pain began to fade, I saw the familiar sight of spells flaring to life, and then dying out as they hit his back, again and again.

"Gryffindor's Golden Girl," He continued smugly, crooning as he dug the end into my neck so hard, that I felt the skin break and warm blood trickle down and into my clothes. "I wish that I could keep you, what a spoil of war you would be."

"Fuck you," I growled, spitting and the sight of it hitting his silver mask, tainting his silver mask, made something in me laugh. "Oh, fuck you."

"You know, after I kill you," He snarled, his head dipping lower until he was inches from my face, his body shifting forward around me, "I'm going to kill your blood-traitor brother, I'm going to kill that mud-blood bitch, and then I'm going to take the boy who lived and watch him die."

"Bastard," I hissed, tears beginning to form in my eyes, starting to leak down my face, helpless, defenceless, senseless as he lifted his wand to an inch from my face, and green leaked from the edge.

"Avada Ked-uh-" A strangled sound choked out of him, ripped from his lungs in agony. I watched with bated breath, as his body shook, and the green died out as his wand tumbled from his loosening grip.

"Erin, don’t-" Harry yelled, begged, but it was already done.

I grit my teeth as I twist the dagger further into the gap between his fourth and fifth rib, the sounds of squelching and muscle tearing only drowned out by his screams, by the blood gurgling in his throat.

A sob muffled in my throat as I used all the energy that remained in my right hand and tilted the dagger up, up, up, until I felt it pierce something hard. I knew I had hit his heart when he began to convulse, hard and sharp, knew I had hit his heart when he suddenly stopped- just stopped.

"Erin, Erin, Erin-!"

They were crying my name, and footsteps pounded against the floor, but I couldn't hear it not really. Not as I tore the dagger free, not as his body collapsed on top of me like a bag of sand, not as his masked face fell limp against my shoulder.

Not as I felt the last breath of air rattle from his lungs.

***

"Erin, sweetheart!"

The cry that came from my mother as I stepped into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place was loud enough to shatter glass- and have every person in the room jumping to their feet with alarm.

"The blood, oh my- the blood, are you hurt?!" My mother dropped the knife in her hand in surprise, and before I could even open my mouth, she was hurtling toward me with wide eyes and trembling hands.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I reassure softly, fatigue weighing on me as she runs her hands across my arms, her eyes wild as she takes in the blood coating my hands like gloves, the metallic smell sticking to me like a second skin. "I'm not hurt, it's not mine."

"Did something go wrong with the mission- did-" Remus's face was grave, not too dissimilar to his usual furrowed brow and pursed lips, but I saw the panic shining in his eyes as he stood before me.

"The mission was fine, we got all the hostages and took them to Kingsley," I explained roughly, moving with my mother, her hand at my back, guiding me like a sick child to lean against the counter. "They're shaken but fine, there were no casualties-"

"No casualties?" Harry echoed back, disgust and indignation flaring in his words, and I sighed, lifting my head to where he stood stoically at the door, Ron and Hermione leaning tiredly against the wall for support on either side. "No fucking casualties? Really, Erin?"

"Harry-" Hermione frowned, disapproval scrunching her face as she glanced at our friend, but Harry didn't listen, stalking forward with anger lining his whole body.

"You killed two Death Eaters, two- those are casualties." Harry continued, emotion clogging his voice and I internally groaned as all the eyes in the room snapped to me- disapproval, confusion, alarm written on their faces.

"I meant casualties from our side, casualties of the people who matter," I scowled, my hands clenching, and I felt the dried blood cracking under the pressure. "I won't be made to feel guilty at doing what needed to be done, I helped save seven people tonight, eight if I include you."

"At the cost of what?" Harry demands, shaking his head at me, looking at me like he didn't even recognise me "You hit that Death Eater with a cutting spell, then dropped half a wall on top of him and the other one, the way you stabbed him-"

"You stabbed a Death Eater?" Remus muttered, a frown on his lips, causing the creases of his face to tighten, to show his age. "Erin, that is not what we do-"

"That Death Eater took out Ron and Harry like it was nothing, he was playing them like it was a game like their spells were party tricks to him." I hissed, tears starting to prick at my eyes, not sadness, but frustration, ire, that they weren't seeing it. "If I hadn't taken him down, he would have killed me, and then all of you, it would have been over."

"Erin, it's okay," Ron sighed, his face scrunched in pain and sorrow as he stepped toward me, the same kind of pity on his face he always seemed to have- like I was too innocent for this, too weak like I would break.

"You think I wanted to kill him? You think I want any of this shit?" I demand, sniffing, my jaw locked as I wipe the tears angrily from my face, "I don't- but don't make the mistake of thinking that I will ever risk your lives for theirs, I would kill them all if it meant keeping you safe. If that makes me a bad person, then so fucking be it."

"You don't mean that," Harry dismisses, his green eyes full of shadows as he stares at me, the tension in his shoulders tight, like every word hit him hard and fast and deep, "I know you, you don't mean that."

"You do know me, Harry," I say softly, my body sagging against the counter edge, needing it to keep my knees from giving out from under me. My mother frowns, tears in her eyes as she stands to hold me, her breath shallow in her lungs. "You know me well enough to know that I'm not lying right now."

Silence spreads through the room, deadly and cold, as we stare at each other, our eyes speaking every thought. Hermione and Ron stood stiffly on either side of us, eying us with caution, the unfamiliar territory grating.

Harry and I never fought, never argued, never disagreed- of all of us we were the most alike. But now? Harry wanted to win the war and remain who we were, but I knew that to win, we couldn't be those people anymore.

Because those people believed in mercy, those people believed in the goodness of everyone, and those people had been fucked over, time and time again- those people would die, the good and innocent were always the first to die.

“Who would have thought- Gryffindor’s sweetheart is quite the little killer,” A low, amused voice sang out, sending chills over my body that felt like ice-cold water in my veins. "I'm almost impressed, Crimson."

There wasn't enough air in the room, not enough air in the entire world as my eyes shot up, past Ron and Hermione, past Harry, and straight to the door's threshold.

Where Draco Malfoy stood leaning against the frame- very much alive.