The Boy Who Lived

The Final Battle

He was two steps behind Vince and Greg as they rounded a corner and saw Potter reach for what looked like a tiara on the stone bust of a warlock with glass eyes. Where were Granger and Weasley for surely Potter couldn't take on all three of them? And certainly not with his back turned on them.

He drawled out the first thing that came into his head. 'Well, well, what brings you here, Potter?' and he pushed between the two oafs, stopping them from firing on the man.

'I could ask you the same.'

'I virtually lived here last year.'

'I remember.'

'You have something of mine. I'd like it back.' He glanced meaningfully at the wand sticking out of Potter's pocket.

'What's wrong with the one you've got?'

He studied his mother's wand idly. 'It's my mother's. It's powerful but it's not the same. It doesn't... understand me. Know what I mean?' He looked into Harry's eyes hoping he saw what Draco was trying to relay, two against two was far better odds but he needed his wand.

He saw Potter glance briefly to his left, a brief flicker before he went back to studying Draco's face. Draco hoped that meant Granger and Weasley were here too.

'Why didn't you tell her?' Potter suddenly said, blindsiding Draco.

He didn't answer. Don't do this, Potter... not here, not now...

'Bellatrix. You knew it was me. But you didn't say anything...'

He wanted to scream, Shut up, Potter! You're signing my fucking death warrant! Luckily Vince and Greg just seemed confused. Instead, he said coolly, 'give me my wand!'

'I don't think so...' Potter blithely pulled the wand from his pocket, studying it.

'Easy!' growled Greg.

'Besides, it's allegiance is to me now. If you want it, you'll have to win it back. Perhaps even kill me...' he and Draco locked eyes. There was no challenge. Potter clearly knew Draco wouldn't kill him.

'C'mon, Draco. Just do 'im,' said Vince.

'Don't be a prat, Draco, forget your bloody wand,' said Greg angrily.

Draco briefly closed his eyes, partly to block out the intensity of Potter's gaze. Partly to buy himself time, to think. Did he turn and fire on Greg now?

Granger made the decision for him as she pointed her wand and fired a stunning jinx at him.

Potter had raised his hand as if to signal don't! but Greg had stepped into the breach and had started to fire back. He thought, he hoped, in that moment that an understanding passed between him and Potter.

And, surely, Potter got it when Draco screamed 'DON'T KILL HIM!' as Vince tried to fire the killing curse, luckily aiming wildly but he brought down a wall of junk, cutting Draco off from Potter.

The next thing he knew was Ron was yelling from somewhere close by 'RUN! RUN! Crabbe's set the bloody place on fire!' and a wall of fire was bearing down on him. Dragons, chimeras, and serpents seemed to be writhing amongst the flames, grasping towards him. He would have frozen but Greg was reaching out an ape-like arm and was hauling him up a mountain of burning junk.

The heat was unbearable, sweat poured down his face, his hair stuck to his forehead and bothered his eyes, smoke choked his lungs as he scrambled upwards.

The world slowed as he watched Vince fall. The scream was horrible, piercing the clamour as the flames devoured him.

Draco knew he would be soon be engulfed too and wondered if perhaps it would be better to let go quickly. Just to go the same way as Vince. The tower would surely crumble imminently; he was only prolonging the torture. Only that was when Potter's hand stretched towards him through the rising choking smoke, clasping his wrist firmly, dragging him onto a broomstick he'd found somewhere, he didn't even understand how Potter had the strength but he could feel the commitment and surety in his movements. Weasley had a tougher job with Greg. But Draco, no longer caring for his dignity, threw his arms around Potter's chest and held him firmly, his eyes shut tight until he felt them tumbling to the floor in the corridor.