Emily Potter - Book 7 - The Deathly Hallows

Chapter 31: The End of An Era

"Draco."

As if called on by a teacher in a busy classroom, everyone turned to leer at the boy in question; all eyes eager to see how it unfolds, afraid of the dangerously calm voice used upon his name. Draco Malfoy stood tall in the face of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, stony-faced at the front of his parents casting pleading looks at him.

The Dark Lord had cast a cautious look at the seventeen-year-old. He knew exactly whose side he had fought for, what beliefs he stood by – Like a cat playing with its food, Voldemort continued to test him in front of such grand audience. "Come join us, Draco."

It was a trap, and Draco knew exactly what would be the outcome of this if he were to either stay where he is or join his ranks. Death to everyone around me regardless of what I choose, he thought to himself. My life is the least of my worries now.

"You have something of mine." The young Slytherin declared, taking a stride away from his cohorts and presenting himself in the middle of the courtyard. Though Draco held his own wand securely in his hand, his eyes had been glued to the view of the Elder Wand in Voldemort's grasp. "That isn't working for you, is it? Nothing extraordinary..." He taunted, gaining a sneering look from the bald, pale-faced wizard. "Snape may have killed Dumbledore, but I defeated him." I am literally signing my life away; I might as well push the limits. "You are a coward who couldn't even kill your worst enemy – "

"I have killed the Potters by my own hand – "

"Ah yes," Draco said in mock admiration. "Murdering two teenagers, I suppose that would be difficult considering your age. But then again, there's no excuse for you failing to murder them when they were infants! And the four other failed attempts that followed suit."

A stream of white light charged at Draco's chest, a seizure of blinding pain coursed throughout his entire body causing him to collapse and fall to his knees. His eyes fell on his mother's face, tears glossing her fear-stricken eyes. He thought more curses would come along and torture him, but it had seemed that something else was in the works.

Scuffling footsteps filled his ears, someone was approaching him.

"And who are you?" Voldemort hissed. "More volunteers that want to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle has been lost?"

Draco felt a pair of hands lift up his arms, helping him to stand up straight on both feet. He had looked around him and saw Neville hoisting his arm around his neck for support. "Don't look so surprised, Malfoy." He joked, still in pain himself from his limp.

"Yeah, speaking of Malfoys." A girl's voice said, giving a false cough. Draco turned around and saw Annabeth and Eleanor with Daphne and Blaise, causing mental sirens to go off in his brain, his immediate reaction was to push them away to the sidelines, to lessen the bloodshed that was no doubt upon them.

Voldemort laughed indignantly, his fingers sliding across his wand jovially. "I remember your faces..." He said with a delighted smile. "Purebloods, are you all not?" He asked the children. "Such a showcase of bravery, and coming from noble stock no less... We need your kind, Neville Longbottom," He said, nodding to the Gryffindor. "Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini." Voldemort continued, now looking spitefully at the Malfoy cousins. "It seems like your family is just riddled with blood traitors, Edgar." He called out to a black-hooded figure that stood in Lucius' shadow. "Why don't you welcome these young wizards to our ranks – "

"We'll join you when hell freezes over!" Neville yelled, his authoritative tone inviting everyone to answer in shouts and cheers.

Edgar stepped forward with a wand in hand, his blue eyes electric with rage and fury as he saw his sister and cousins. "Let it be death, then." He brandished his wand above his head, veins popping from his temple as he prepared to let his curse reign over the group of people before him.