Note: Super busy so a bit shorter than usual this week. Please vote if you like it.
Ron left Draco and Hermione in the corridor outside the headmaster's office and came back into the Great Hall. It was lined with people on cots, either waiting for their wounds to be treated or recovering as best they could.
And in a far corner were people laid out under white sheets, still as stone, their faces covered. These were the dead. Was Harry among them already? Not here under a sheet but off in the Forest alone? He wouldn't have the dignity of being draped with a shroud. No, as a dead man, Harry would be desecrated, paraded around, jeered at.
"Our Harry..." Ron muttered to himself. He was pale, dizzy, raising his hand to find something to hold onto.
"Oh, there you are," someone said, stepping beneath his raised arm, easing his weight onto their shoulder. "You look terrible."
Luna. Only Luna greeted him this way. It was perfect.
"Yeah," was all he said, closing his arms around her neck and resting his cheek on her head.
His ears were roaring, as if he might pass out. If Fred or George had whistled at the sight of him for clinging to Luna in the middle of a crowded room like this, he hadn't heard it.
"Come lie down," she said.
"No, the beds are for the wounded," he murmured against her hair. After all everyone had been through, how could she still smell so nice? He cleared his throat, forcing himself away from passing out, away from her sweetness and back to the fear and sadness of the castle and the war. "And I can't rest until Harry's – back."
Luna gave a knowing hum. "Speaking of Harry, I think he'd want you to rest while you wait for him. Especially if there's a chance things might be about to get worse."
Ron sighed and loosened his hold on her. "Alright. I'll rest on a bench, but not a bed."
"That's fine," Luna said, leading him across the room. "Do you want some acupressure?" She was already reaching for his temples, her fingers poised to set to work on him.
"No," he said, catching her hands. "It's brilliant of you to offer, but no. Just – just sit with me. Tell me one mad thing after another, and then leave me completely stunned by saying something that makes perfect sense. Look me in the face like you like me, and you'll be sorry when you have to leave me."
Her eyes seemed larger and shinier than ever. But she was closing them, lifting onto her tiptoes, pressing a kiss on his cheek. "There's no other way for me to look at you," she said.
The roar in Ron's ears was gone. He could hear the low chatter of serious voices all around them, and no one teased or taunted him.
"Ah, good on Ron," George said, just out of Ron's hearing. "Long live blonde girlfriend the second."
"Wait now, why is Ron here getting off with a new girl instead of saving the world with Harry?" Fred said. "Is Harry alright? Where is he?"
Pansy's head whipped around. "And where's Draco?"
"Who's Draco?" Charlie asked, not looking up from the little owl whose broken wing he was tending.
George was on his feet. "Malfoy? If that little maggot laid a hand on Harry – "
"Sit down," Bill said, shoving George back into his place on the bench.
"Draco is where he belongs: in the corridor kissing his darling Hermione," Fleur said, sliding under Bill's arm.
Fred blinked. "Malfoy and Hermione? I really did see that then."
"So where is Potter's darling? Your Ginny?" Pansy interrupted. "Maybe she's giving him the same treatment Ron's getting from Lovegood."
In unison, all five of the Weasley brothers let out a loud groan of exactly the same tone and cadence.
"So where am I going to get an end-of-the-world snog?" Fred said. "Angelina's gone off me in favour of the one-eared allure of George here."
George nodded. "It was bound to happen. I'm the sweet one."
"Are you?" Percy mused.
With the toe of his good foot, Fred tapped at Pansy's knee where she sat at the end of his splinted bad foot. "How about you Parkinson?"
Percy cleared his throat far too loudly. "Sorry about his manners," he said to Pansy, crowding onto the bench between her and Fred's feet. "Don't mind him. Mum gave him a dose of anti-ache potion and it's gone to his head. He'll apologize to you later."
"No, I won't," Fred said.
"Seriously, Fred, shut up," Percy said.
Pansy tossed her head. "If he's not sorry later, I'll make him sorry so."
The brothers shared a low laugh.
"Honestly, does this bravado ever work with women, Fred?" Bill groaned.
Charlie was tucking the bandaged owl into a little cage. "He's had the very worst amount of anti-ache potion. Enough to eliminate his inhibitions, not enough to get him to sleep. I say we top him up. I'll be right back."
No one objected as Charlie moved toward the dispensary, least of all Fred.
"Oh, I see," Fred said. "Parkinson prefers Weasleys of the specky, fussy variety."
At this, Pansy finally blushed. "I do prefer men who aren't clowns," she said.
George whistled, shaking his head. The twins could defend themselves against many things but not against accusations of being clowns.
"Well, she's got us there," Fred admitted. "Charlie, hurry up with that draught!"
—-------------------------------------
At the end of the corridor below the headmaster's office was a large stained-glass window, now broken. Below it was a well-cushioned window seat Dumbledore had installed for students to lounge on when they were called up to see him. Hogwarts legend had it that the cushions were enchanted with a calming effect.
If it was true, the effect was not working on Hermione as she sat in the window seat with Draco in the lull during the battle. Her eyes were fixed on the empty pane where the glass had been shattered and blown out into the grounds. Her shoulders were rigid, her fists clenched.
"Are you cold?" Draco asked. "Maybe we could find a window that's not broken to sit at."
She shook her head. "No, the wind blowing over me makes me feel like I'm outdoors, with Harry, where I'm supposed to be."
There was no point going out to look for him. Harry had taken pains to slip out alone under his cloak, no goodbyes. Maybe Draco was right when he said the time might have finally come for her to trust Harry, and let him go.
Draco knew that even if she could let Harry go, it would feel awful, and he eased himself behind her, hugging her back to his front, sliding her into his lap as if he was a chair. It was how he had held her the night he confessed that he knew her true identity. Maybe it could get them through this night too.
As he cradled her, he said nothing, only kissed her ear and sighed. At last, Hermione had told him everything as they'd sat here – about the hallows, the horcruxes, the diary in the Chamber of Secrets, the ring that had slowly cursed Dumbledore almost to death, what had nearly drowned Harry that night in the Forest of Dean, what had driven them to break into Gringotts, and the meaning of the diadem that had nearly got all of them killed in the Room of Hidden Things.
Draco guessed the true nature of the snake, the vile thing. He had put the bit about Potter's role in it together between her sobs as she fought to explain it. She was quiet again now, and ready to speak about Harry Potter again.
"He's out there alone," she went on. "After months of following him all over the country, watching over his tent while he slept – he's wound up alone."
Draco perched his chin on her shoulder. "I don't know if it helps for you to think of it this way, but if he's gone to meet Voldemort, he won't be alone. Voldemort never meets anyone alone. It's meant to be a show of his strength and support. But it's really a show of his fear. And there's nothing he's more afraid of than Potter."
She sighed and let her head sink back against Draco's.
"My parents will be with him," Draco went on. "My mother will be there, with your wand in her hand."
Hermione hummed. "Will that help Harry?"
There was a pause as Draco considered it. "I can't say. But I know it won't hurt him."
"What if Voldemort figures out you're master of the Elder wand, like we did?" she said, finding Draco's hand and flattening her palm against his, studying the differences between his long, white fingers and hers. "I'm not sure the Triad wands will hold back a direct attack from the Elder wand."
"Andromeda did say the wands could defy, but not defeat the Deathstick," he said.
"Don't call it that," she said, turning to face him, pushing him onto his back on the cushions and lying on his chest. In spite of the wind, he was warm, his heart beating steadily against her ear. "We need to think of some other way to keep you safe if he comes. If he isn't able to kill Harry yet because you're alive and you have the Elder wand's allegiance, he won't hesitate to have you killed some other way."
Draco plunged his hand into her hair, nestling her closer. It was true, but what could he do short of running and hiding? No, there was nothing for him to do but lie here and savour holding her for what might be the last time. It didn't feel like the last time, but who can ever know something like that?
All at once, she propped herself up to look at his face. "Would your parents defy him if he attacked you?"
Draco sighed again, his voice in it, a miserable sound. "My mother might. My father – no."
His sadness, well-hidden up until now, was unbearable to her. She climbed up his torso so their faces were level, her lips hovering over his, almost touching.
"This is not helping me think of a way to defeat the Elder wand," Draco warned. But it was not a complaint, and his hands found the warm smoothness of her waist inside her jumper.
"Let's take just a moment," she said, brushing her mouth against his. "Just one moment to be Cupid and Psyche again."
He consented with a slow turn, moving her off of himself and onto her back, descending on her, quick and greedy. She voiced her sweet moan into his mouth, her fingers threading through his hair as a kiss intensified between them, and...
"Draco, I'm so sorry." It was Tonks, her face averted as she stood closeby in the corridor.
Hermione pushed Draco off of her, sitting up so quickly no one would have mistaken her for a married woman.
"It's Remus," Tonks said as she stepped closer. "We've treated his wounds as best we can but we're still struggling to stabilize him. So – "
"The Triad healing wand," Draco gasped. "How thoughtless of me, Dora. I'm so sorry I made you come and ask."
"No, it's my own fault," she said. "I told you not to worry about it, but – please I can't stand to see him like this any longer. The hex he's suffering from most keenly – well, it's working on his lycanthropy somehow. If we let it go on much longer, I'm afraid..."
"Of course, of course," Draco said, on his feet now, rushing after her. "We'll see to him."
In the makeshift infirmary, they found Remus much worse than Tonks had left him moments before. His fingers were long and hairy, the nails curving more like claws. He held his eyes closed to keep their hex-green glow from showing. And he didn't speak, as if he was afraid he would only cough out growls and snarls.
Tonks swore and sprinted across the floor toward him.
Bill Weasley held Remus down on his cot by the shoulders while Charlie held one of his legs and Arthur held the other. Bill's strength was enhanced by his own brush with lycanthropy but it would soon be no match for Moony's.
"Bloody Dolohov," Draco muttered, falling to his knees beside the cot.
Molly Weasley was at his side. "This is the counter curse he needs," she said miming the wandwork and pronouncing the incantation. "It's worked fine on everyone here without lycanthropy, but Tonks says you've got something more you can try."
Bill was calling for help. "George, Percy, come hold him!"
Molly mimed the spell once more, Draco nodding and whispering along. "Right, I've got it."
"Come on, Black Sororal healing wand," Tonks said, her hands clasped together, almost as if in prayer.
Remus thrashed harder as Draco held the wand over his heart. Remus's voice was audible now, its sound not like English or any other human language.
Draco paused. "Come on, Remus. For Teddy."
Partly transformed, it was impossible to tell if Remus had heard any of them. Draco moved through the spell anyway, Molly nodding along at his side. With the last flourish of the healing wand, everyone held their breath.
And slowly, Remus's hands relaxed.
"Ease up boys," Arthur said. "Easy now."
There was no sound but the heaving of Remus's breath, and then a whisper.
"Dora. Dora, I'm so sorry."
She didn't accept Remus's apology, falling on him in a tremendous hug instead, shaking with relief.
The Weasley's fell back. Bill dropped a heavy hand on Draco's shoulder. "Well done, mate," he said. "I knew someday you'd do us good."
"What? Did his getting me the battle wand so we could blast our way out of Gringotts with a dragon and a horcrux not do it for you?" Hermione demanded, punching jovially at Bill's shoulder.
"That's my favourite cousin there," Tonks added, looking up from Remus's sweaty but perfectly human face.
George made a show of counting on his fingers. "Favourite of all your many, many cousins. Yes, that's high praise indeed, Malfoy. I get the same from my favourite twin."
Hermione was opening her mouth to say something more in defense of her husband when it came again –
The voice, the dreadful voice speaking into all of their ears at once. "Harry Potter is dead...We bring his body as proof...The battle is won...Anyone who continues to resist...will be slaughtered...Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me..."
Someone whispered, "No."
Ron was on his feet. "It's a lie," he said, breathless but shouting. "It's a trick. A trap."
Hermione was in front of him, Draco at her heels. She took Ron by both arms. Her eyes were glassy with panic and terror but she was still fighting. "Ron, we'll figure that out later. We have to stick to what Harry told us before he left. If Voldemort is coming, he will have the snake with him."
"The snake," Ron repeated, dazed.
"Yes, the snake," she said. "Voldemort will be distracted by – by his claims about Harry. So we might have a chance to kill the snake."
The thought of their unfinished part of the mission jolted him back to his senses. If Harry really was dead, and they didn't finish off the snake, Harry might have died for nothing.
Ron shook his head, steeled his features, and led the others in a march toward the castle doors.