𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

the one with another mother's sacrifice

"The woods are lovely
dark and deep
But I have promises to keep.
And miles to go,
Before I sleep,
And miles to go,
Before I
Sleep."

•

WHEN DRACO HEARD the crack behind them when they were almost at the edge of the courtyard, his wand instantly in his hands, and he turned around before anyone else. Through the cold and dark, he squinted his eyes and tried to make out the shape in the darkness. He didn't sense any threat as he raised his wand, his wandlight coming on with a quick 'Lumos' on his part. He gasped only slightly when he made out the shape of a woman, quite tall with messy black curls, crouching over the body of someone fallen. Bellatrix Lestrange seemed to have not noticed them-what an ideal moment to finish of that maniac.

There was another crack, and Bellatrix Lestrange evaporated into the air in a wisp of smoke. Draco blinked. And next to him, Hermione Granger screamed. Harry Potter wobbled on his knees and Ron Weasley ran to the fallen. Small bundles seemed to litter the lawn at the front of the castle. It could only be an hour or so from dawn, yet it was pitch-black. And Draco's heart had ceased beating in his chest.

"Skylar! SKYLAR-" Ron Weasley was shouting. Draco stood where he was, his wand still illuminating a patch of surface before him.

"Skylar!" Hermione Granger had joined her boyfriend and crouched around the fallen. Next to him, Harry Potter grabbed his arm, his chipped nails scratching against his robes. "She's not breathing-"

"Malfoy! Get over here!" shouted Ron Weasley.

"What's going on here?" McGonagall's voice bellowed above all. Draco didn't move. Draco's wand didn't waver. It all felt like a slow paced dream he didn't want to be a part of. "What's-"

Harry Potter lurched away from Draco, towards the body of his sister, and Draco realized how much he appreciated Potter's presence next to him, for the second Harry left, Draco's legs gave away, and he fell on the frosted, icy floor of the courtyard with a sickening crunch as his knees collided with the cobblestones. He didn't register the pain. His wand tittered away from him, the light flickering away as the stick rolled in a sort of semicircle and stopped against his knees, the wandlight diminishing. A lot was happening around him. A lot of students and teachers had walked out to see what the ruckus was about. Professor McGonagall had stationed herself right next to Skylar, checking for any sign of life. When she found none, her face, white and stony,looked up, tears spilling down her cheeks, and she beckoned someone to take her body back to the castle.

Her body.

She would never truly be Skylar Firegold again. She would never walk, or breathe, or talk, or joke. He walked with drying wide eyes, no tears forming, as Cedric Diggory, a boy she had saved so many years ago, lifted her body with a strained and traumatized expression, and carried her back towards the castle. Everyone's faces showed recognition. They identified that Skylar was indeed dead. Everyone was crying. There was screaming. There were shouts. Cedric Diggory was in tears, a look of disbelief on his face. Surely, Skylar Firegold cannot die? Surely, there been a mistake?

"Draco," Pansy spoke right next to him. "Draco, get up!"

"Draco." Blaise Zabini's face was streaked with tears and his hazel eyes looked hazy and blurry after a long days war. And loss.

"Is she dead?" Draco found his voice finally, and the words sounded foreign to him. It sounded wrong but Draco couldn't be bothered to have fancier words at the moment.