Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10032710.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Major_Character_Death, Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter
  Character:
      Dean_Thomas, Draco_Malfoy, Harry_Potter, Hermione_Granger, Lucius_Malfoy,
      Luna_Lovegood, Millicent_Bulstrode, Narcissa_Black_Malfoy, Neville
      Longbottom, Other(s), Pansy_Parkinson, Ron_Weasley, Seamus_Finnigan,
      Bellatrix_Black_Lestrange, Blaise_Zabini, Voldemort
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Language, Alternate_Universe, Angst, Tragedy, Romance
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2006-01-03 Completed: 2006-01-24 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 7162
****** The Ultimate Sacrifice ******
by crimsonxstarlight
Summary
     The Final Battle is approaching, and Harry must ask Draco to make the
     ultimate sacrifice. AU, 7th year fic. HBP does not exist, except for
     the Horcruxes.
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
***** Promises *****
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not at all. (Don't I wish!)
A/N: Part one of three. Unbeta'd.
 
  The two Seekers stood at the edge of the lake in the gray dawn light, wrapped
in a desperate embrace. They were Seekers, yes, even in these troubled times;
clinging to their titles as they clung to each other, as memories of a more
carefree time.
  "Dray, look at me," Harry said softly. Slowly, unwillingly, Draco lifted his
head, staring at Harry with pain-filled eyes. "No, don't be like that – you're
strong, you can do this, you'll be alright."
  "This isn't right!" he choked out, his voice cracking. "It shouldn't have to
be this way. It should be me! You've given too much already. I don't want to
lose you!"
  "It's the only way," Harry whispered, pulling Draco closer. "I'm the last
Horcrux. If you don't- If you can't- He'll always be able to come back."
  "I won't do it – I can't. There has to be another way!" he cried, tortured,
clinging to Harry. "It's-"
  "Shh," he said, placing a finger across Draco's lips. "You know it's the only
way, Dray. You're the only one who loves me enough to do it."
  "But, Harry-" Draco subsided, seeing even through his haze of tears that
Harry's emerald eyes were
dulled by the same mist.
  With a gasp each held the other tighter, instinctively, knowing what each was
asking, and what the answer must be for both.
                                   * * * * *
  Closing his eyes tightly Draco spoke, knowing there was no going back. "Yes."
  Harry looked at him in disbelief, raising his tearstained face from Draco's
shoulder. "Yes?"
  He opened his eyes, revealing determined, steely-gray orbs. "Yes, I'll do it.
If- When you kill Voldemort, I will kill you." A pause, and a deep breath.
"Have you ever thought about- you know, how you'd like to go?"
  Harry sighed. "I've always had nightmares of a rushing green light and a
high, cold laugh," he said, staring across the lake. Smiling sadly, he
whispered, "I've thought of it every day since first year when I learned he was
after me." He looked directly at Draco and said, "Avada Kedavra."
  Draco nodded slowly. "It's fitting, I guess," he said, trying to smile.
"Poetic, in a way." He made a face. "Ugh, don't tell anyone I said that."
  Harry laughed softly. "Don't worry. I'll never tell a soul."
  They stood holding each other silently until the sky began to turn blue and
the sun itself could be seen. Harry was the first to break the spell.
  "Come on, we should get back before they miss us."
  Holding hands they walked slowly back to the castle, across the dew-covered
fields. Draco held back
when they reached the stone steps.
  "Dray? What is it?"
  "I was just thinking. Once we walk in there-" he shook his head ruefully.
"Everything's changed, isn't it?"
  "We're still the same," Harry said softly. "You've just promised to- to do
whatever it takes to save the world, Dray. I will always love you," he said
steadily, "and nothing can ever change that."
  He kissed Draco gently on the lips, picked him up – ignoring his surprised
protests – and carried him bridal style up the steps and into the Great Hall.
The remaining students, who were all members of the DA, sat at one table now,
as there were so few of them. Many of them started to ask questions about this
unusual entrance, but Harry wasn’t done yet. The Hall fell silent as Harry
placed Draco at the end of the table and began to speak.
                                   * * * * *
  “In light of what you’ve just seen, and considering the terrible things
happening beyond these four walls, I’m sure that many of you have questions
you’d like to ask. But I have to say that I have a more important question to
ask. Yes, me – not the sodding Boy-Who-Lived,” he scowled. The table laughed,
as expected, but he soon held up his hands in a plea for silence. “I, Harry
James Potter, have just one question to ask.” Turning to his lover he dropped
to one knee, pulling a box out of his pocket as he did so. “Draco Lucius
Malfoy, will you marry me?”
  Draco felt his eyes fill with tears again as he reached out and opened the
white velvet box. Inside were two sparkling silver bands, which flashed sky
blue if the light caught them in a certain way. His breath caught in his
throat; he opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.
  Harry chuckled nervously. “Norwegian silver. Special order, custom fit; the
best in the world. They match your eyes... Oh, Dray, say something!”
  In response, Draco took the box from him. Harry paled, but Draco just smiled.
He offered the box to Harry, holding out his left hand. “Well?” he asked
softly.
  Harry let out a whoop and jumped to his feet. He slid the ring onto Draco’s
finger and barely gave him time to return the gesture before spinning him
around and kissing him soundly.
  “Oi, you two, get a room!” called Ron.
  “Naw, ‘s alright, that was bloody hot,” said Seamus, unable to take his eyes
off them.
  Draco growled, only half playfully. “Back off, Finnegan, and go find your own
man. This one’s mine.”
  “No, he’s right, that was really… wow. That was really hot,” said Hermione,
her eyes glazed.
  Ron goggled at her, spluttering incoherently.
  Harry laughed, “Thanks, ‘Mione, I love you too. Now, if you’re back to
normal, I think Ron could use a little mouth-to-mouth over there.”
  Everyone laughed as she blushed, but she leaned over anyways and kissed him.
  “Don’t forget to breathe,” said Draco, amused.
  They came up for air then, and glared at Draco as everyone laughed again.
  “Well, now that that’s out of the way,” said Harry, “can we eat? I’m
starved!”
  As he and Draco were sitting down, Madam Rosmerta stumbled through the double
doors, pure terror in her eyes. Harry tensed immediately, standing up again as
the rest of the room froze.
  “The Death Eaters,” she gasped. “They’ve... taken Hogsmeade. Voldemort- oh!
It’s too-” She fainted in a heap, just missing the edge of the table as she
fell. Madam Pomfrey jumped up and began attending to her.
  “Right then. This changes things. You all know what you have to do? Good,”
said Harry, looking around the table proudly. He glanced at the staff table,
nodding at Dumbledore stiffly – it was no secret that the Order had been slowly
picked off by the Death Eaters, once again. “Come on, we’ve got a job to do.”
  Squaring his shoulders, Harry took Draco by the hand, and together they led
the grim procession of students towards what would be the battle of their
lives.
***** Sacrifice *****

Author's notes: The Final Battle plays out. Draco struggles to keep his mind on
the task at hand, and to make sense of his disjointed thoughts.
===============================================================================
Disclaimer: Not mine (I wish!), except for the plot... and what whatever
misfortunes may occur.
 
  The students trooped across the grounds in silence, clutching hands or
sharing glances full of the words they might never get the chance to say again.
Harry stopped at the gates, turning to face them.
  He took a deep breath, and started speaking quietly. "I am not going to lie
to you, to any of you. This is the battle we've been training for; this is the
real thing. The Death Eaters have taken over Hogsmeade, and Voldemort is out
there with them. I am not going to pretend that everything will be alright, or
that we will all survive. If any of you want to step down, to go back to the
castle and wait in safety, you may do so, no questions asked."
  He paused and looked around the group; nobody moved. He closed his eyes
briefly, grateful for this show of solidarity. "Right then. I've given you all
your assignments; once you've taken out your target, move on. Go where you're
needed. Use your own judgment, because I won't be able to direct you."
  He swallowed, and reached into his pocket. Pulling out his invisibility
cloak, he handed it to Draco. He nodded and accepted it grimly, setting his jaw
determinedly.
  Harry continued, "Draco is our ace in the hole, you might say. I won't
hesitate to say that I have given him the hardest task of all. He's going to
wait under my invisibility cloak; it's very important that the Death Eaters
don't know he's there."
  He squeezed Draco's hand, eyes hardening. "Years ago, Voldemort made six
Horcruxes - objects that hold a piece of his soul. As long as there is a
Horcrux left, he is immortal. Five of the six Horcruxes have been destroyed.
There is one left, and that one is the reason I'm telling you all what Draco's
task is."
  "Oh, Harry, no!" cried Hermione. He nodded, not trusting his voice at that
moment. She flung her arms around Ron's neck, sobbing into his shoulder.
  "Harry-" Ron said weakly. "Mum and Dad, Ginny, the twins... not you too,
mate, not you too..."
  Harry nodded miserably as Ron closed his eyes, his arms tightening around
Hermione.
  "It'll be quick, I promise - he's promised." Looking at the horror-struck
members of the DA, he said steadily, "I am the last Horcrux. For Voldemort to
ever be truly gone, I must be destroyed. That is Draco's task - When I kill
Voldemort, he's going to kill me."
  The group of students bowed their heads as one. Of all the things Harry
might've said, this was the thing they were most unprepared for.
  A sudden explosion from the direction of Hogsmeade brought them back to the
present. Without a word Harry waved the gates open and glanced around at the
group one last time, his emerald eyes glinting dangerously. With a sharp nod,
he turned and led them towards the orange flames filling the sky.
                                   * * * * *
  Once in Hogsmeade, the members of the DA split into their assigned pairs and
began duelling the Death Eaters. Harry and Voldemort faced each other, glaring,
from opposite ends of the battlefield; two generals overseeing their respective
campaigns.
  Slowly but surely the DA members were overpowering the older, battle-hardened
Death Eaters. Harry had trained them well. Their only shortcoming was that the
killing curse needed a fair bit of intent behind it, but Harry had even taken
care of that fault. The assignments were personal when they could be - Neville
duelling Bellatrix Lestrange, for instance - but where they couldn't be, they
all had something to fight for now: If these were going to be Harry's last
hours, the other students were going to do their very best to make sure he
wouldn't need to worry about them.
  Draco, under the cloak, edged his way towards his father, movements fuelled
by pure hatred. He saw a flash of green light, saw a redhead fall, saw a brown-
haired girl crumple to her knees beside him, screaming. Draco ran faster.
  "So, you think you're in pain right now, Miss Granger?" drawled Lucius
coldly. "Crucio!"
  Under cover of Hermione's screams, Draco stood next to his father and
snarled, "Avada Kedavra!" Ignoring the falling body, he bent next to Hermione's
ear and said, "Save it for later, Granger, this isn't the best time. And yeah,
you owe me one."
  Biting her lip, she muttered a quick thanks and ran off to help the Patil
twins battle Antonin Dolohov. Keeping an eye on Harry, Draco circled the
combatants, careful not to get in the way of any stray spells. Zacharias
Smith's duel caught his eye - Smith was losing badly. He headed that way
quickly; not for any real love of Smith, but because he recognized the mocking
voice of the Death Eater facing him.
  "Crucio!" snapped Pansy. "Aw, is the poor widdow baby hurting?" She laughed
at Smith's screams, watching amusedly as he tried to master himself long enough
to curse her in return.
  Draco sighed quietly, closing his eyes. He stepped up behind her and
whispered, "I hope you rot in hell, Pans. Avada Kedavra!"
  She fell in mid-turn, having taken her wand off Zacharias to try and find
Draco. It almost hurt to see her body fall into the dirt; after all, she had
been one of his best friends. But he hardened his heart, knowing she deserved
it: Not only was she a slave to the bastard trying to kill Harry, but over
Christmas she had tried to capture Draco himself and take him to Voldemort.
  He shook himself mentally; now was not the time. Smith was gone; he'd
scrambled off to help Hannah Abbott duel Macnair. Everyone on this side of the
battlefield was holding their own, so no problems there. Those Ravenclaw blokes
on the other end were in a spot of trouble, but they were too far away for
Draco to reach them. It didn't matter anyway, he could see Hermione and Padma-
no, Parvati- no, well, one of the Patil twins running over to them. The
casualties were mounting on both sides, but there seemed to be more fallen
Death Eaters than students.
  "'Mione!" Harry's anguished yell broke into Draco's thoughts. He looked; she
was lying on the ground while the twin and that dark bloke from Ravenclaw -
what was his name? - stood over her form, still furiously duelling. He sprinted
in that direction, but stopped to help Seamus Finnegan battling Avery. One more
down, how many more to go? Longbottom was screaming to his right; he wheeled to
see Bellatrix standing over him, gloating.
  Wonderful, he thought, allowing a smirk to cross his face. Dear Aunt Bella.
Taking careful aim across the few feet between them - no close contact with
that bitch, if you please - Draco sent a quick killing curse her way. Perfect
curse, as always. Congratulating himself, he turned back to the rest of the
battle. The field was clearing as the bodies fell - Harry's duel with Voldemort
would begin soon.
  Draco started sprinting towards Harry, but twisted as he saw a quick movement
out of the corner of his eye. He jumped out of the way just in time; a second
later Luna Lovegood had crashed to the ground right where he'd been standing.
He looked towards the Death Eater who'd killed her and groaned as Hermione ran
up to continue the duel.
  Pale, pointed nose, impossibly long light blonde hair... Narcissa Malfoy
screamed as she was hit by Hermione's Cruciatus Curse. She shook it off
quickly, and Draco imagined he could see her blue eyes - so pale, just like the
rest of her - glinting from behind the mask. She raised her wand to retaliate,
but Draco had already made his move.
  "Hello, Mother," he said conversationally, loud enough for Hermione to hear.
Narcissa whirled angrily, as Hermione called out a quick killing curse. She
fell gracefully, crumpling elegantly to the ground; the perfect pureblood
trophy wife to the very end.
  Draco turned to congratulate Hermione, but the words died on his lips. He let
the invisibility cloak fall to the ground as his blood froze in his veins and
all colour drained from his face, ignoring Hermione's cry of surprise. Time
slowed to a crawl as he heard the high, cold laugh ring out across the
battlefield. Voldemort– Harry– They were so far away– How had he gotten all the
way over here? Oh, why hadn't he stuck to Harry– He'd never reach them in time–
  Wand clutched tightly in his hand, Draco ran for all he was worth. Harry and
Voldemort began their duel, fierce flashes of reds and greens lighting them as
they traded hate-filled, Parseltongued words. Why did their have to be so many
bodies in the way? No, they were all sleeping. How could there be any bodies
when there was no blood? Haha, a bloody battle with no blood. Funny.
  The duel went on, and still Draco ran, cursing the corpses he stumbled over,
again and again. He was vaguely aware of shouts behind him, but whether someone
was talking to him or the battle continued he couldn't tell. There was one
thought in his head, denying all other concerns: Get to Harry.
  The duel was getting faster, more complicated; Draco was sprinting full out
now, breath coming in short gasps. He could see that Harry's scar was livid,
saw his beautiful green eyes flash as he heard Draco's steps coming closer.
Voldemort turned to see who was running to them, the last mistake he would ever
make. Draco threw himself to the side, instinctively, aiming carefully at the
snake-like face as he did so. Before he'd hit the ground he was flinching,
closing his eyes in anticipation as three voices cried out: "Avada Kedavra!"
                                   * * * * *
  Drops of water were landing lightly on his face - how odd. One of his bloody
dorm mates must have been playing a joke on him. Some joke, to wake cold and
wet, and lying in the mud. Mud? Wait- That wasn't right.
  Draco struggled to sit up, ignoring the pain in his head. He brushed his hair
out of his eyes impatiently; his hand came away red. Why was he bleeding?
Concentrating, it came back to him: the battle, Voldemort, Harry. Harry!
  He scrambled to his feet, looking around desperately. For good measure he
threw another killing curse at Voldemort, who was lying face down, half buried
in the mud. He spotted Harry a few feet away, lying on his back, breathing
heavily.
  "Please be alright, please be alright, oh, Harry..." Harry opened his eyes,
smiling at Draco weakly.
  "We did it, Dray, we did it," he whispered tiredly. "I-" He paused, whole
body tensing as a spasm of pain crossed his face.
  "Harry!" cried Draco, falling to his knees.
  "It's- ugh! - It's Voldemort's soul trying to gain control of me," he winced.
"Damned Horcruxes. Dray, you need to- Ugh!"
  Draco was crying freely, holding Harry's hand. "Harry, I- oh, gods, I just- I
love you, Harry!"
  "I- I love you too," he gasped. "Dray, please, it- it hurts..."
  "Just- just look at me, Harry." Harry turned his head slightly, focussing his
still-bright emerald eyes on Draco's blue-grey ones. "I love you, Harry Potter.
I just- I want you to know that- that I'll never take off this ring. Ever.
Because- oh, Harry-"
  "I- I know, Dray. I love you, Draco Malfoy. And I- I will never take off
this- this ring either. Dray, please-"
  Draco dropped Harry's hand, pressing a soft kiss to his cold lips. "I know,
love, I know. Goodbye, Harry." Clutching Harry's trembling fingers once more,
he held the tip of his wand lightly to Harry's chest. Looking into the emerald
pools he loved so much, he whispered the killing curse and watched as the light
faded from them forever.
  Draco bowed his head and sobbed, still clinging to Harry's unmoving fingers.
He heard slow, soft footsteps approaching, but made no move to defend himself.
Why should he? What did it matter, if he lived or died? Harry was dead - the
only man he could ever love was gone.
                                   * * * * *
  Slim fingers rested on his upper arm briefly, before their owner dropped to
her knees beside him, laying her arm across his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Draco,"
Hermione said simply.
  "It shouldn't have to be this way," he answered tightly. "Harry's done so
much for us - he shouldn't have had to go through this pain too. He should have
lived forever and- and been happy." He broke off as a fresh wave of tears hit
him.
  "He was prepared for it, Dray, believe me," she said softly. "He'd talked to
us about this so many times - he always thought he'd die in battle, he even
knew how he'd be killed. The part he never told us was- was that he was the
last Horcrux."
  "He only- he only told me this morning. This morning," he choked out. "We
were out by the lake, and he- he- oh gods-"
  "Don't," she whispered. "Don't do this to yourself."
  He swallowed, brushing a hand through the stinging tears burning his eyes.
"It was only this morning... And he asked me to- to kill him. He said- he said
I was the only one that loved him enough."
  "He was right," she said, her voice wavering. "Anyone else - Ron and I - we
would have made some excuse to keep him alive. He was in so much pain... and
you loved him enough to put him first, and to save him from that pain." She
wiped her eyes, resting her head against Draco's shoulder. "Here, look."
  He wiped away his tears quickly, looking to where she pointed. In death
Harry's face was peaceful, with a half smile. He looked closer, and there was
the final proof that Voldemort was gone: the scar the Harry had borne since his
first year had faded almost entirely, leaving only the faintest of thin white
lines behind.
  Draco closed the sightless eyes gently, placing a light kiss on the scar.
Sitting up he looked at Hermione, offering her a weak smile. "It's really over,
isn't it, 'Mione?"
  She gave him her own shaky smile in return. "Yeah, it's finally over, Draco."
Resting a hand lightly on her best friend's chest, she leaned down to give him
one final kiss. "Goodbye, Harry."
  The two friends sat in silence for some time, ignoring the light rain
falling. The stillness was finally broken by a soft Irish lilt from behind
them.
  "That's everybody brought back up to the castle except for Ron an' Harry,"
Seamus said quietly. "We were thinking maybe- maybe you two'd like to say your
goodbyes without everyone else around."
  "Thanks, Seamus," said Hermione, raising her tearstained face to him. "Oh!
What happened to your leg?" she cried, seeing his limp.
  His face clouded. "Ah, it's nothing, really. I got thrown into a tree helping
those Creeveys duel that Goyle bloke of yours," he said, nodding at Draco.
"You, er- you might want to look in on Colin when you've got the chance. He's,
er, he's taking it pretty hard."
  "You don't mean-" she broke off, biting her lip.
  "Yeah, I do," he said, sighing heavily. "Well," he said, after a pause, "I'd
better be getting meself back up to the castle. There's a lot to do yet..." He
turned and slowly made his way back to Hogwarts, limping tiredly.
  "Tell me he made Goyle pay for that," said Draco, his voice raw with emotion.
"Tell me he made that fucking murderer pay."
  "I don't know, Dray, I hope so," she said, sniffling slightly. "Come on, we
have to get back." Leaving Draco for a moment, she sank down next to Ron's
body. Smoothing his hair out of his face, she looked down at his empty blue
eyes with a broken smile, trying to hold back her tears. "Oh, Ron..."
  The dam broke; she put her head down and cried, crying for all the times they
wouldn't have, crying for all the words they'd never share, crying for Ron.
  Draco came up and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, 'Mione, it's time
to let go," he said softly.
  She tucked her loose hair behind her ears, raindrops glistening on the curls.
Giving Ron a light kiss, she squeezed his hand and stood slowly, turning to
face Draco. "It's all over," she said softly. "Finally - we're free."
  "D'you think- d'you think they'd, you know, be- happy for us?" asked Draco,
hesitantly.
  She smiled - an honest smile - and gazed unseeingly across the burned and
blackened field before answering. "They'd have loved this," she said gently. "I
believe - somewhere - they are happy for us. We'll see them again, Dray,
they'll never really die - because we'll never forget them."
  He nodded, brushing one last tear out of the corner of his eye. "Come on,
let's get back up to the castle."
  Leaning on each other, sharing a poignant silence filled with memories, they
walked towards Hogwarts, bearing their dead before them.
***** Eulogy *****

Author's notes: Draco and Hermione remember the people who were lost in the
Final Battle, with a short visit from a surprise guest.
===============================================================================
Disclaimer: Not mine, except the plot. (And, I suppose, the random, unnamed
fourth year Slytherin boy.)
A/N: Well, there you have it. (I'm sorry, yes, Harry is still dead.) Part 3/3.
Reviews are love!
 
  Draco and Hermione stood, waiting, on the platform that had been erected
before the staff table, at the end of the Great Hall. It was the end of June,
and the Leaving Feast – in the two months since Voldemort had been defeated
along with the last of his Death Eaters, life in the wizarding world had
returned to normal remarkable quickly. Of course, it helped that Fudge had been
able to produce Voldemort’s body for the sceptical witches and wizards, and
that he had loudly proclaimed the Boy-Who-Lived’s success. Draco tangled his
hands in his robes before anyone could notice his clenched fists; it wouldn’t
do to get angry right now. A Malfoy – however little the name meant to him now
– did not reveal their innermost emotions before a crowd, much less before a
crowd of people Draco wasn’t entirely sure he could trust.
  “Hey, Dray, you okay?” Hermione asked, out of the corner of her mouth.
  So – he hadn’t been as successful as he’d thought in hiding his automatic
reaction to his train of thought. “Yeah, fine. Why?”
  “You’re trying to crush your robes into a ball, that’s why,” she smirked.
“Sure you’re not hiding something?”
  He arched an eyebrow delicately. “Of course I am, Granger, everybody has
their secrets.” Shaking his head, he admitted, “I was just thinking of how fast
everything got back to, well, normal around here.”
  “And…” she prompted.
  “And how Fudge told the world that the bloody Boy-Who-Lived had done his job
– with the full support of the Ministry,” he said with a grimace.
  “What else would he say?” she commented, rolling her eyes. “Same old Fudge,
after all. I mean-”
  Dumbledore had moved to stand between then, holding up his hands as he waited
for the Hall to fall silent. It was proof of how lucky they’d been that the
Hall was nearly full – after Voldemort’s fall all the students had returned
immediately, minus some notable exceptions in the upper years.
  “In past years I have used this time to tell you all to be wary of Voldemort
and his followers… But the time for that has, thankfully, passed. To tell you
how this came about, you will hear from Mr Draco Malfoy and Miss Hermione
Granger, who would have been our Head Boy and Girl, respectively, had this-”
his voice caught- “been a normal school year.” Waving his hand towards the two
of them, Dumbledore resumed his seat, trembling.
  Throwing a glance at Draco, Hermione began speaking. “We are standing here
today to recognize a very special group of people, without whom we wouldn’t be
here right now. I know that many of you have lost friends and family in this
war, and you- you have the right to know how and why that- that happened.”
  Draco stepped in quickly. “Many of your parents, among other relatives, were
members of a group organized to fight Voldemort and his Death Eaters,” he said,
pointedly ignoring the Slytherin table as he glanced around the hall. “This
group was known as the Order of the Phoenix, and many of its members were
killed in service, either in this war or in the first. But that is not the
group we are here to remember.”
  “The people we want to recognize today are- were students at Hogwarts. They
were part of a group founded by- Harry Potter,” she said rapidly, “known as
Dumbledore’s Army. It was given this name by Ginny Weasley,” she continued, as
Draco gave Dumbledore a slight bow, “a sixth year Gryffindor student who was
murdered by Voldemort.”
  She turned away to wipe her eyes. Draco, facing the Hall, saw many of the
other sixth years doing the same, although several of the boys were doing so
furtively.
  “It is the members of this group that we are honouring today,” he said
steadily. “Our fellow classmates, who gave their lives in the Final Battle, so
that we could be free once more.”
  He closed his eyes, holding out his hand. Hermione slipped her smaller hand
into his, warm fingers seeking the same reassurance as she began. “Terry Boot.
Michael Corner. Anthony Goldstein. Luna Lovegood. Padma Patil.”
  The Ravenclaws were holding one another’s hands, allowing their tears to flow
freely as their housemates were named.
  Draco continued, “Hannah Abbott. Susan Bones. Justin Finch-Fletchley. Ernie
Macmillan.”
  The Hufflepuffs were positively wailing as their fellows were named, with
several of them having crawled under the table to have their cry in a more
private place.
  “Lavender Brown-”
  “Here!” called a mean-looking fourth year Draco didn’t know. “You ever going
to talk about what we’ve lost? Or are the Slytherins just not good enough for
you anymore!” he challenged.
  “You want me to tell you about the Slytherins?” Draco snapped angrily.
“Alright then! I will! Vincent Crabbe. Gregory Goyle. Theodore Nott. Pansy
Parkinson. All four of them died in the Final Battle. You want to know why?
Because they were all bloody Death Eaters, that’s why! You know what else?
They’re damned lucky that our side killed them, because if we hadn’t, Voldemort
would have!” he snarled. “Happy now?”
  The kid sunk down in his seat, pale and trembling, all the fight gone out of
him on receiving this cheery bit of information.
  “Dray, leave it…” Hermione whispered, squeezing his hand lightly. He nodded
sharply, still glaring. She continued calmly, “Lavender Brown. Dennis Creevey.
Dean Thomas. Ron… oh gods, Dray, help me,” she whispered brokenly, tears
streaming down her face unchecked.
  “Ron Weasley. And the last to fall that day, but certainly not the least,” he
said, clutching his robes desperately with his free hand to still his trembling
fingers, “Harry Potter.”
  The Hall was filled with shaking, sobbing students, from every House. Draco
pulled Hermione into a desperate hug, folding her into his arms as though she
was the only friend he had left in the world. She, in turn, wrapped her arms
around his waist, sobbing into his chest as her tears soaked through his shirt.
They stood like that for some time, grieving along with the rest of the school,
yet separate in their shared pain that only they two could fully appreciate.
  Gradually the Hall quietened, and Draco looked up, blinking tears out of his
eyes, sensing that Dumbledore had come forward.
  “We will now observe some moments of silence to remember our schoolmates,” he
said weakly, that twinkle quite gone from his ancient eyes.
  Draco closed his eyes, resting his chin once more on Hermione’s head as she
continued hiccoughing slightly, the sound muffled by being pressed against his
body.
  He heard a rustling noise suddenly, but assumed it was only someone moving
about in their seat. The noise was repeated, but now seemed more fluttering, as
with the quality of pages turning in a breeze. The sounds continued, and Draco
raised his head, glaring round at the Hall.
  “No, Dray,” Hermione said softly, turning his head. “Up there.”
  “Hedwig!” he gasped. “But- It’s- I don’t- It can’t- He’s-”
  “Shh,” she said gently. “Just open the letter.”
  He reached out disbelievingly, removing the thick scroll from her leg. She
nuzzled against his hand, hooting mournfully. “Hedwig…” She turned and flew
away; Draco watched her go, until she was no more than a black speck
silhouetted against the cloudless blue sky.
  He looked down at the scroll, his vision steadily becoming obscured by a mist
of tears. There it was, in bold letters: Draco Malfoy-Potter, written in
Harry’s untidy black scrawl. “How…” he whispered.
  The Hall was silent, the students watching the scene with interest. “Go, read
the letter,” Hermione urged quietly, well aware of her schoolmates hanging on
every word. “Get out of here – outside, upstairs, wherever. Just go.”
  He pulled her close briefly, muttering, “I’ll be by the lake.” He stepped
away, his expression unreadable, and said, “Excuse me, I have to leave; very
pressing matter to attend to… Aw, hell. What use is it? ‘Mione, take over.”
Walking rapidly he left the Hall, knowing that every eye was on him.
                                   * * * * *
  Without thinking Draco headed for “their” spot – that place on the lakeshore
where they had had their final discussion before the Battle. Unsteadily he sat
on the soft grass, turning the heavy scroll in trembling fingers.
  Draco Malfoy-Potter, the letter was addressed to. But how…? There had been no
time for writing after he had accepted Harry’s proposal, none at all. But
surely that meant- He half-turned, almost expecting to see Harry standing
behind him, smiling. Of course, there was no one.
  He shook himself, knowing in his heart that it was impossible. It must have
been- Harry must just have known how much Draco loved him. Yes, that was it –
it was much better to quash his hopes now, before they could be allowed to
blossom.
  He traced the seal, watching as the waxy redness dissolved to reveal the
Slytherin crest. He smiled fondly, recognizing what it meant: Harry had told
him how the Sorting Hat had tried to put him in Slytherin, and it had become
their private joke. He slid a manicured nail under the seal and set it aside
carefully. The scroll retained its shape for a few moments before unrolling,
indicating that it had been written some time ago.
  Draco smoothed the pages gently, realizing with a pang how that parchment –
inexplicably or not – smelled so much like Harry. He pushed the thought away
and bent his head over the many sheets in his lap. Ignoring the curtain of
blond hair that fell forward into his face, he settled down and began to read.
    Dearest Draco, it is nearly the end of February as I write these words to
you. The 21st, to be exact. Do you remember tonight? I am sitting comfortably
before the fire in Gryffindor Tower, and you – you are curled up on the floor
with your head in my lap, sound asleep. You’re so beautiful when you’re asleep,
and even more so in the firelight. I’m almost afraid to be writing this next to
you – afraid that the scratching of my quill might wake you from your dreams.
But it needs to be done, because if you are reading this then I know that the
final confrontation between Voldemort and myself has taken place. I am sorry I
had to ask you what I did – it’s funny to write that, as I haven’t done it yet
– but you know that it was the only way. I fully expect Voldemort to make his
move before the end of the year; he can’t let me go home for the summer without
trying to kill me first, after all.
   Did that make you smile? I hope it did – you will never know how much I love
to see you smiling and happy. I love you so much, Dray, I don’t ever want to
leave you. But I don’t have any choice: it has to happen, sooner or later.
   I have so much faith in you – you’ll be alright in the end, whatever else
might happen. I don’t know if I’ll make it to the end of this year, I don’t
know if I’ll get to graduate from Hogwarts, I don’t know if I’ll ever get to
marry you or if we’ll ever have kids together… but no matter what, I will
always love you, and nothing can ever change that. I will always be yours,
Draco Malfoy, whether we’re on this side of the Veil or not.
   There are so many things I want to say to you, and I don’t know if I’ll ever
get the chance to tell you in person. To see your face, to look into your eyes
– I’ve always loved your eyes; did I ever tell you that? Because they’re
beautiful and sparkling, just like you. You’re on your second chance at life,
you know, just like I am. But I’ve never seen you let that make you sad, or
bitter, or anything like that – you’ve never let the past get you down that way
I have. You were always stronger than I am, Dray. It’s just one of the things
I’ve always loved you for… 
  It is a bittersweet thing to read a letter after its writer had passed away.
The words are a sweet reminder of what you meant to each other, of how you were
connected. But there is also the pain of knowing that you will never hear those
words spoken, and will never see the writer again…
  Draco felt all these things as he read the letter, even if he did not put it
into quite those words. The letter went on and on over a dozen sides of
parchment, bittersweet memories singing out to him from every line. Over and
over it went, inky black words whispering to Draco until the final salutation,
written in emerald green ink: Yours for better or worse, Love forever and
always, Harry James Malfoy (né Potter)
  Wiping away tears he hadn’t known were falling, he carefully rolled up the
pages, securing the seal with a tap of his wand. He placed it gently in an
inside pocket of his robes, making sure it couldn’t fall out. Hugging his knees
to his chest, he put his head down upon them, tears running freely as the clear
June sunshine blazed all around him.
                                   * * * * *
  It was fully two hours since Draco’s abrupt exit from the Hall when Hermione
came to find him. She walked across the lawn slowly, soft footfalls announcing
her presence. He turned to greet her, face tearstained but calm.
  “’Mione.”
  “Dray. How are you?” she asked hesitantly.
  He smiled crookedly. “Alright. Better than can be expected, I suppose,” he
added thoughtfully. “You?”
  She dropped beside him, curling up gracefully as she began to pick at the
blades of grass restlessly. “Alright, I suppose. I mean… there’s just so many
things-” She stopped abruptly, and changed the subject. “Dumbledore made his
speech after you left. All the- remaining seventh years are now officially
graduates, but he says that if we wish, we, er… we will be welcome to ‘return
to Hogwarts in the fall and continue our interrupted studies’ should we wish to
so do.”
  “I’m never coming back to Hogwarts,” Draco said flatly.
  She sat very still, watching him carefully. “Where will you go?”
  “I don’t know. There’s nothing I’d want at the Manor, at any rate. I thought
maybe… Gringotts, get some money out, change it to Muggle cash if I like, and
then visit Godric’s Hollow.”
  “He won’t be there, you know,” she said softly. “It won’t- It can’t- Nothing
can bring him back.”
  He shook his head. “He’ll be there. That’s where he was born, and that’s
where I’ve buried him. Besides, I’ve got nowhere else to go,” he said dully.
  “Oh, Dray…” Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around
his waist. “Did he tell you how he sent the letter?” she asked suddenly.
  “No… I don’t understand it at all. It isn’t possible…” he said, half to
himself.
  “I helped him with it,” she admitted. “It’s a modified sort of Tempus charm.
He had it all written out, but he didn’t want to send it if he didn’t have to.
So he set the charm so Hedwig could deliver it today, our last day of school…”
  “But how could he have known-”
  “He didn’t know, but he had a pretty good idea. Besides, setting it for today
he figured- well, he figured he’d have plenty of time to counter the charm,
unless-”
  “Unless he couldn’t.”
  She nodded. “I miss him,” she said simply. “I miss both of them.”
  “Have you thought about where you’re going?” he asked. “You could come back
if you wanted, you were always brilliant.”
  “Thanks, but I’m not coming back either. I can’t.”
  “Can’t?” he echoed.
  She turned to him and knelt, taking his hand. Her eyes sparkling, she said
nervously, “You’re the first person I’ve told.” She waved her wand at herself,
and placed his hand on her abdomen.
  Surprised, Draco felt two pulsing heartbeats beneath his hand. Gazing wide-
eyed at her amused face, he managed to say, “’Mione! You’re- you’re- Since
when?”
  “Three months or so,” she said slowly, considering. “About that.”
  “D’you know- d’you know, er, what they’ll be?”
  “Babies, dear,” she laughed. “Seriously – both boys. Can you guess what I’ve
decided to name them, d’you think?”
  “Harry and Ron,” he said softly. “Hermione Granger, you are amazing,” he
said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.
  “I was, er- I was hoping – if you didn’t have anywhere to go, I mean – well,
you don’t, but- I was hoping, er, maybe you could come with me to my parents’?”
she asked haltingly. “I’m, er- I’m not quite sure how they’ll, er- how they’ll
take the news.”
  He nodded. “Of course. Then what?”
  “I thought I might go to the Burrow – see how Charlie and Bill are holding
up, maybe live there,” she said lightly. “And you’ll be off to try and find
Harry, I suppose.”
  “Not find,” he said seriously. “After Godric’s Hollow, I’ll probably move to
Muggle London.”
  “You?” she asked, surprised. “Are you sure you can get along?”
  “I can probably find some bookkeeping work. I’m pretty good with numbers. I
don’t think the wizarding world has anything left to offer me,” he added.
  “You’re always welcome to visit me, wherever I end up,” she offered. “Me and
the twins.”
  He smiled. “I know. And I will, don’t worry. That’s my main reason for
choosing London – it’s so close to our world.”
  “And the other reasons?”
  “It’s familiar,” he shrugged. “Mother used to sneak me out for shopping trips
to Muggle London when she thought Father wasn’t looking.” He checked his watch.
“The carriages are going to leave soon, we’d better get up to the castle.”
  Arms around each other they walked back to the school, sharing a comfortable
silence. They had a carriage to themselves on the way to the train; the other
students realized that there should’ve been two more students in that carriage.
The silence lasted until they boarded the train.
  “I’m going to miss this place,” Hermione said softly.
  “Yeah,” agreed Draco. “I’m going to miss it too.”
  As the train pulled out of the Hogsmeade station they stood in the corridor,
holding hands as they stared out the window at the lighted turrets of Hogwarts
until it could no longer be seen – their final tribute and farewell to the life
they’d known, and to the friends and lovers that they knew they would never
forget.
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