FIC: Surrender the Grey (30/30)
Nov. 2nd, 2005 07:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emmagrant01NOTE: This is the first draft of this story. The final version can be read HERE.
Title: Surrender the Grey
Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Draco Malfoy returns to London after five years of self-imposed exile to start a new life with Harry. But will the secrets of the past destroy everything they've worked for?
Sequel to: Left My Heart. This will make much more sense if you have read that first!
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no copyright violation intended.
Length: 150,000 words
Status: COMPLETED November 2, 2005 (Posted March 2 - November 2, 2005)
Notes:
1. Please don't archive this story yet! This is the first draft, and in the next few months, it will be revised and edited. I'll post the final version on my website and a few other select archives, but in the meantime, feel free to link to this post.
2. There aren't enough words to say THANK YOU to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jedirita, hazelhawthorne, and charlotteschaos for beta-ing this story! These are some of the hardest-working betas out there, and they deserve lots of snaps for putting up with me for eight months.
3. Even though the backstory of this fic only assumes canon up through Order of the Phoenix, I stole a few cool ideas from Half Blood Prince. Cause they were cooler than mine...
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29
(30)
Draco stood on the stone terrace and stared out at the sea below. The sky was grey and damp, and the waves were high. They crashed against the rocks below with a rhythmic fury that was mesmerizing. He had never spent much time by the sea as a child -- his mother was always concerned he would burn.
Ebby appeared beside him with a pop, startling him. "Master Draco," she said, her high voice cutting through the sound of the wind around them. "There is wizards here. Harry Potter and--"
"Thank you," he replied, and turned back to the castle.
It was time, then.
He found Potter and Weasley in the foyer with his father. Weasley and Lucius were glaring at each other, and Potter's expression was stony. Draco couldn't help but pause at the sight. Who would have thought the four of them would collaborate to bring down Voldemort?
"I'll thank you not to speak of my father again," Weasley said. The tone of his voice was tighter than Draco had ever heard before. Weasley hadn't said anything in front of him, but Draco knew he blamed Lucius for the Diagon Alley disaster, for not doing more to prevent it. Draco agreed with him on that point, but he hadn't worked up the courage to tell him so.
"Regardless, my condolences," Lucius said, giving Weasley a cool look. He studied his pocket watch, a gesture Draco knew meant he was uncomfortable. Weasley only scowled in response.
"We haven't much time," Draco said as a way of announcing his presence. Potter and Weasley turned toward him, both looking relieved. "If you'll follow me, we'll start the preparations."
Lucius cast him a meaningful glance, but Draco ignored it. He knew his father wanted to know precisely what would happen when Voldemort arrived tonight. So did Draco, actually.
They left Lucius standing in the foyer and walked down a set of stairs into the dusty basement room that contained the entrance to the hidden chamber below the castle. Draco whispered the spell his father had showed him only days before, pointing his wand at a stretch of blank wall. The doorway materialized before them and creaked open, revealing a narrow stairway descending into darkness.
Draco heard Potter chuckle behind him as they stepped through. "I feel as if I'm in a Muggle horror film."
"Careful what you wish for," Draco muttered. They descended quickly, lit wands held out before them. After a moment, they could see the flicker of torchlight from the chamber below.
"I might've known this place would have a dungeon," Weasley said as they walked into the chamber. The potion Draco had made earlier was bubbling away in a cauldron at the center, emitting a faint light. "Does your father lock up Muggle-borns in here, or something?" Weasley asked.
Draco snorted. "He's only had this place since my mother died. He says the family home reminds him of her too much." Weasley and Potter both turned to stare at him, as if they found this difficult to believe. Draco shrugged. "It suits our purposes, doesn't it?"
"So this is part of the perfidio spell?" Potter asked, nodding towards the cauldron.
"Yes, and we should get started as soon as possible." Draco pulled a list of written instructions from his pocket.
"Actually, there's something we need to do first," Potter said, moving to stand in front of him. "Hit me."
Draco could only look back at him blankly. "Sorry?"
"I need to look like I've been roughed up a bit, don't I?"
Even though Draco was still cross with Potter, he had no desire to hit him. "Can't you use a spell?"
"He thinks it will leave residual magic," Weasley said, looking annoyed. "I've already said no."
"Come on, Malfoy," Potter said, almost sneering. "I've been a prick to you the last two days. I know you'd like to take a shot at me."
Draco clenched his jaw. "I'm not playing your little baiting game," he replied. "If you want me to do this, I'll do it, but don't fool yourself into thinking it's personal."
"But it is personal," Potter said, stepping closer. "Between you and me, it always has been."
"You'll have to do better than that," Draco replied.
"What, afraid you'll break a nail?"
Draco rolled his eyes, and then punched him squarely across the jaw. Potter staggered back, wincing, and Draco went after him again, hitting him three or four times more. He stepped back and shook out his aching hand. "There. Happy?"
Several large bruises were blossoming on Potter's face, and blood was trickling down his chin where Draco had split his lip. "Yeah, that'll do," he grunted, pushing himself to his feet. "You hit harder than I expected."
An image of Potter writhing under him while Draco slammed into his arse flickered through Draco's mind, and he smirked. "So I've been told." He turned back to the cauldron and studied it, then smoothed out the parchment he'd crumpled in his fist. "It's getting late. We need to do this."
"Right," Weasley said, casting a worried glance at Potter, who was still rubbing his jaw. "What do we do?"
"It requires blood from each of us," Draco said. He conjured glass vials and left them hanging in the air over the cauldron, then retrieved a small blade from his bag of supplies. He cut himself first, then passed the knife to Potter. He kept his focus on his own blood trickling into the vial, not watching the others cut themselves. When his vial contained enough blood, he pressed his fingers against the cut and waited.
"Here," Potter said, and traced one finger along Draco's wound. When he pulled his hand away, only a faint pink line remained.
"Thanks," Draco said, looking up at him.
Potter nodded and looked away.
They added the contents of their vials to the potion at the same time, and watched as it turned a deep shade of purple. Draco glanced at his written instructions. There had been no indication of what color the potion should be at this point, so he could only hope this was proceeding correctly.
"Now, do have your metal objects?" he asked.
Weasley held up his right hand to show a ring with a jade stone set into it. "This was my grandfather's," he said.
Draco nodded and pulled up his sleeve to show the silver bracelet on his wrist. "This was my mother's."
They turned to Potter, who was blushing. "I don't have any jewelry, actually," he said. "So I brought this." He held up a weathered key.
"That's not good enough," Draco told him, his stomach sinking. "It can't be an ordinary object -- it has to have great personal value."
"It does," Potter told him. "It's… it was the key to Grimmauld Place, where my godfather lived. When I bought my flat, I transfigured it to fit the lock." He shrugged.
"I didn't know that," Weasley said, staring at him. "Was that his key, then?"
"Yes," Potter said, looking sheepish. "At least, I think it was. And the flat is the most important thing I own, so I thought--"
"It's good enough," Draco told him with a small smile.
"So do we just drop them in?" Weasley asked.
"There has to be skin contact with the objects for us to cast the spell," Draco said. "We have to hold them and put them in, like this." He demonstrated.
"But the potion's bubbling," Potter said, casting a wary glance into the cauldron.
"It's not hot," Weasley replied, holding his hand just over the surface. "It's fine."
They all looked at each other for a moment.
"Right," Draco said, holding out his hand. "We put our hands in and say perfidio three times. Ready?" None of them bothered to hide their nervousness as they stepped forward to crowd around the cauldron.
Weasley looked up at Draco. "Are you sure about this? Because if this doesn't work or fucks things up, I'm holding you personally responsible."
Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "On three. One, two, three." They sank their hands into the potion, pressing the metal objects tightly together as they did. Weasley had been right -- it wasn't hot; in fact it was a pleasant temperature, and made Draco's hand feel tingly. He felt two sets of fingers wrap around his wrist under the surface, pressing against his bracelet. It was oddly comforting.
He looked up and nodded at them.
"Perfidio. Perfidio. Perfidio."
The tingle in Draco's hand intensified and began to travel up his arm. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was disconcerting. It spread into his chest and up into his head, making his hair stand on end. It moved down his torso and legs, tickling the soles of his feet. All at once the feeling disappeared, and they gasped as their hands were pushed up and out of the potion as if by great force.
"Whoa," Weasley said, his eyes wide. The potion turned bright red, and began to swirl as if going down a drain. Within seconds, the cauldron was empty.
"That was utterly bizarre," Potter said. "I've never felt anything like it."
Draco smirked. That's because you haven't taken the right drugs.
Potter and Weasley simultaneously looked up and stared at him.
"What?" Draco asked.
"I didn't see his lips move," Weasley said, blue eyes wide.
Draco gaped. "Wait -- you heard that?"
"Yes," Potter replied. "Is that supposed to happen?"
"I don't know," Draco replied.
What do you mean, you don't know? There was no question the thought had come from Weasley.
Draco snorted. "The paper just said it binds us together for the task -- it said nothing about telepathy."
"I'm sure we'll find it useful," Potter said. He nodded his head very slightly towards Weasley and gave Draco a meaningful look. "But we should all be careful what we think about, in the meantime."
Draco placed his bag in the cauldron and banished them both, trying to keep his mind blank. "Well, the plan then. Why don't we start with that?"
Potter took a deep breath, looking at Weasley and then back to Draco. "All right. It's very simple. I'm going to kill Voldemort."
"Kill him?" Draco stared at him, shocked.
"Yes, kill him," Weasley repeated, an exasperated tone to his voice. "This has been the plan for years. We were hoping to leave you out of it, but here you are, so that's that."
Draco shook his head, not quite believing hat he was hearing. "But we're supposed to--"
"I know what we're supposed to do," Potter said. "But this is what I'm supposed to do. For almost twenty years, this has been what I am supposed to do, and a little promise made to your father is hardly going to stop me from doing it."
"But he can't be killed," Draco said, panic rising in him now. "He's immortal. He'll kill us all, and--"
"He's not immortal," Potter said, his voice very low. "Not any more."
Draco made a sound like a strangled laugh. "You're insane! We're all going to die, you know."
"I expect to," Potter replied. He looked entirely serious, and for some reason, Draco knew he meant it.
"Not if I can help it," Weasley said, pulling something from the inside of his coat. It was Potter's invisibility cloak, the one he'd had back in school. "Harry will pretend to be your captive, but I'll be hiding under this," he told Draco. "If anything happens, I can back him up."
Draco pressed a hand to his forehead. "So the plan is simply for you to wait while I bring him here, with Weasley hiding, and then you're going to just kill him? Kill the Dark Lord, just like that?"
Potter sighed. "Just like that."
"This isn't going to work," Draco said, shaking his head. "This can't be all there is to your plan."
"He'll want to torture me a bit, I'm sure," Potter said, his expression reserved. "The last few times I've faced him, others took the brunt of it, but I'm ready. I'll have my wand, and I'll wait for an opportunity to strike."
"And that's all? You wait, we wait, and when you decide the time is right, you do it?" Draco held back a frustrated laugh. "Fuck, no wonder you've been doing nothing for the last few weeks. You already had this suicidal plan of insanity. No need to consider anything more complicated."
Potter looked annoyed. "Are you finished?"
"No," Draco retorted. "Do you have any idea what the Death Eaters will do to us if this succeeds? This wasn't their plan, after all. They don't want the Dark Lord killed, they--"
"They're naïve," Potter spat. "They're blind, and they're stupid if they think they could really keep him captive, or whatever they wanted to do with him. This ends with his death or mine, and it ends today."
"And you don't care if it ends with ours as well?" Draco retorted. He felt a wave of pain that didn't come from himself.
"That's not fair," Harry said, shaking his head. "You know that isn't true."
"It's not fair -- you're right about that," Draco muttered. He took a deep breath, but his panic did not abate. This was the plan, and he'd already committed to it. He had no choice. "Are you sure it's even possible to kill him?"
"Yes," Potter said. "But don't ask me how I know. I can't tell you." Draco tried to reach out with his thoughts, but he found nothing. Potter's mind seemed to be carefully blank.
"It's just as well," Draco sighed. "I'd only think you were more delusional." His stomach was twisting with dread, but there was no turning back now. The spell wouldn't let him walk away. The irony was great, though -- he'd trusted Potter with his life, and Potter was going to lead him right to his death.
"You won't die," Potter said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Look at me, Draco. You aren't going to die. Voldemort won't see this coming. He doesn't know he's mortal. And he doesn't know you're on my side."
Draco gritted his teeth against the emotion rising in his throat. This was real. Potter was serious; he was ready to die if necessary and there was nothing Draco could do about it. He wondered if Weasley had tried to talk him out of this insanity and failed.
Weasley snorted and folded his arms over his chest.
"And Ron won't die, either, unless he does something stupid," Potter continued, giving Weasley a teasing glance.
Weasley sighed. "Which I'm quite likely to do, you know. So that leaves you, Draco." He stepped forward and put his hand on Draco's other shoulder, his expression suddenly solemn. "And if we don't survive this, I want…" he paused and swallowed. "Tell Hermione about this. Tell her what we did, and why. Tell her I…" He stopped and pressed his lips together, looking away. "Tell her I love her and the children more then anything, and that I did this for them. Okay?"
"I will," Draco whispered. It was all he could think of to say.
"Now go," Potter said, his voice firm. "We'll be ready when you return." They stepped away.
Draco stared at Potter, his emotions reeling. Things had gone so terribly wrong between them, and he hadn't expected they wouldn't have a chance to patch it up. It was too late now. They were out of time.
Potter smiled at him, and with a rush of relief, Draco knew he understood. Draco stepped forward and kissed him, carefully avoiding the spot where his lip was split, then turned and walked away.
+++++
Lucius offered him scotch, but Draco refused. He needed to focus on the task before him, and to keep his mind closed enough that neither Lucius nor the Dark Lord would know what was about to happen.
"Are you certain I can't be of assistance?" Lucius asked. Draco had never seen him so tense.
He nodded, and then started as he felt a spike of emotion that wasn't his own. He couldn't hear any of Potter's or Weasley's thoughts from this distance, but every now and then he felt something.
"You must relax," his father hissed. "The Dark Lord will know."
"Don't worry," Draco said, staring at the tapestry across the room in an effort to clear his mind. "He won't."
It was ten agonizing minutes more before a hooded figure apparated into the room. Draco had to struggle not to reach for his wand.
"The Dark Lord will be here soon," Bellatrix Lestrange said, pushing the hood away from her face. "He is looking forward to eliminating Potter at last." She smirked at Draco. "Lucius, you must be proud of your son's accomplishment."
Draco smirked back. "Lovely to see you as well, Auntie Bella."
She moved forward until she was standing before his chair, looming over him with a sneer on her face. "You are so much like your mother -- foolishly loyal to people for the wrong reasons. Pity."
Draco only stared at her in response. He'd forgotten what family politics were like.
"Now Bellatrix," Lucius said, standing. "It isn't polite to speak ill of the dead." Under that calm exterior, Draco imagined he was seething. "Let us not be bickering when the Dark Lord comes. This is a day to celebrate. Potter will finally be dead, and nothing will stand in the Dark Lord's way."
"Potter has been but a nuisance to him," she spat, her dark eyes narrowing. "Just another of Dumbledore's lackeys, too foolish to give up the fight when the old man died." She leaned forward, staring at Draco intensely. "Where is he? I want to see Potter for myself."
Lucius smiled as if chastising a naughty child. "Now, Bella, he is for the Dark Lord to dispose of. He isn't to be touched by anyone else."
"Perhaps I don't trust you," she replied, still keeping her eyes locked on Draco's. "There have been far too many rumors about you, Lucius. There are many who suspect you of treason."
Lucius laughed, and the sound was bitter and hollow in his throat. "I am aware of the rumors, which is precisely why I enlisted Draco's help to capture Potter. It is my gift to our Lord, a gesture of my loyalty."
Bellatrix snorted as if she didn't believe a word of it, and scowled. "Why is your mind closed, boy? What are you hiding?"
Draco leered. "If you want so badly to examine my memories of fucking Potter into submission, I'm happy to oblige."
"Perverted little queer," she spat, stepping away from him. "Your mother would be so ashamed."
"Of my stooping to work with a half-crazed lunatic like you? Yes."
Bellatrix made a hissing sound not unlike that of a cat and lunged for him.
Lucius's wand was at her throat in an instant. "Do not threaten my son," he said, his voice low and gravelly. Draco felt an odd twinge of affection for his father. He doubted it would last.
Bellatrix froze, cocking her head as if listening. "The Dark Lord is coming," she whispered, and an expression of mad glee spread across her face.
Draco focused his thoughts and let everything go -- his fears, his doubts, his anger -- and made his mind as blank as possible.
They waited, the silence and tension deafening. At last, there was a hissing sound, and a figure appeared in the center of the foyer. It wore a dark cloak and seemed to be shrouded in mist.
Draco willed his heart not to pound, willed his feet to remain where they were. It wasn't the first time he had been in the presence of the Dark Lord, but it always felt like this -- like he was walking a very thin line between a tortured life and a painful death.
The figure turned and red eyes glinted from beneath the hood. Draco couldn't see a mouth moving, but a hissing voice emerged from where the Dark Lord's face was shrouded. "Take me to him."
Draco didn't look at his father or at Bellatrix. He nodded and gestured down a corridor, then began to walk. He could hear whispered voices arguing behind him, and then a solitary set of footsteps. He exhaled, relieved. If Bellatrix had come along, it would have made the situation much more difficult.
"This way," he said, waving his wand at the door to the underground chamber. It swung upon with a groan, and Draco heard a rumbling laugh behind him.
"How appropriate. Lucius is nothing if not predictable."
Draco didn't allow himself to think anything in response. They descended the stairs, and with each step, Draco felt his resolve strengthening. He could do this. They could be successful. It was possible. He didn't know if it was the spell bolstering him or if he believed it was true, but it didn't matter at the moment.
They stepped into the chamber to find it mostly dark -- several of the torches had gone out, and those that remained flickered, casting ghostly shadows on the stone walls. Potter was slumped against the opposite wall, looking very much the defeated prisoner, and Weasley was nowhere in sight.
Potter's eyes narrowed at the sight of Voldemort, but otherwise he didn't react. He remained sitting on the floor, watching the Dark Lord draw closer. Draco walked a step behind, watching.
"At last," Voldemort said, his voice an unearthly sound. "Who would have thought the great Harry Potter would be brought to his knees for something so very base?" Draco imagined he was grinning maniacally.
Potter stared up at him, not even flinching. "Who says I'm on my knees?" He pushed himself to his feet, and it seemed to take effort. In the dim light, the injuries to his face seemed more dramatic, and the blood on his lip glistened black. He kept his gaze firmly on Voldemort's face, and he didn't look frightened.
Draco had expected to be trembling by now, but he wasn't -- he felt confident, even giddy. They were going to be successful; they only needed to focus on this task. He let a mask fall over his face as the Dark Lord turned to him.
"Stand by my side, Draco. Watch and learn."
Draco stepped forward and the Dark Lord raised his wand. Draco watched, but Potter didn't respond, didn't go for his wand. He just stared back.
"I have waited far too long for this day, and I think I shall enjoy it a bit longer. Crucio!"
Draco cringed as he felt the wave of pain rip through Potter. He didn't feel the pain itself, but Potter's response to it, which was strangely worse. Though he had seen this spell cast many times before, he'd never experienced it this way. Potter fell to the floor and writhed in pain, making strangled noises. Draco's fists were clenched tightly at his sides.
The Dark Lord dropped his wand and Potter collapsed against the stone floor, panting. He glared up at Voldemort defiantly.
"How pathetic you are," Voldemort said, his voice almost oily in Draco's ears. "I have been patient, Potter. I have waited years and have killed many people, just to arrive at this moment. Tonight I will finally finish it." He paused, as if waiting to see if Potter would respond. He didn't, and Voldemort made a sound like a laugh. "I only wish Dumbledore could have lived long enough to see this moment of defeat. How I would have loved for him to watch you die."
Potter still said nothing, did nothing. Draco wondered what he was waiting for. Why not end this now? He had his wand, and he could catch the Dark Lord by surprise.
"Draco," Voldemort said, startling him out of his thoughts. "He should suffer more before he dies. Torture him."
Draco was glad for the dim light; it hid the paleness of his face. He had no idea what to do. If he refused, the Dark Lord would become suspicious, but he couldn't imagine casting that particular spell on someone he cared for.
But he had little choice. "Yes," he said at last, his mind spinning. "He should." He raised his wand and opened his mouth, but nothing happened. He couldn't remember the word to cast the spell. He blinked and stepped forward, pointing his wand at Potter more firmly. His mind remained blank.
Potter stared back at him, and Draco heard in his mind a very clear, Do it! But he couldn't.
It's the spell, he thought. It won't let me hurt you. He saw from the subtle widening of Potter's eyes that he'd heard.
Draco lowered his wand and stepped back. "On second thought, why waste our time? I've waited years to see him die."
"Very well," the Dark Lord said, his voice disintegrating into a hiss. "Kill him."
"What?" Draco spat before he could stop himself. "But you are the one -- that is your honor, my Lord. I wouldn't dare--"
"I am giving that honor to you," the Dark Lord replied, turning toward Draco. "You are the one who managed to bring him to me when so many others have failed, have you not? So kill him. Immediately."
Draco raised his wand again, a fierce expression on his face. It wasn't even possible, even if he were willing, and the Dark Lord would discover that at any moment.
He swallowed and stared at Potter, willing him to give Draco a clue as to what he should do. Potter just stared back at him, the expression on his face unreadable.
"I've dreamed about doing this for years, you know," Draco told him, forcing himself to sneer.
"Funny," Potter retorted. "You said the same thing just before you sucked my cock."
Draco stepped closer, scowling, his mind racing. How were they going to get out of this? Sniping would only buy them a bit of time, and then--
He saw a dark shape move beside Potter's head on the wall -- a cockroach. Draco swore he'd remember to thank every god he could think of when this was over.
"Goodbye, Potter." He narrowed his eyes and thought, Do it now. Use this as a cover. He felt Potter's understanding just as he aimed his wand at the insect and said, "Avada kedavra!"
Potter ducked the opposite way and the spell hit the wall beside him, blasting a hole in the stone. Draco dove for the floor.
Several spells were shouted and flashes of light flew over his head. The room suddenly seemed to be full of smoke and rubble, and Draco found himself disoriented by a strong sense of panic. It was another second before he realized it wasn't his own.
He scrambled to his feet and saw that Voldemort was holding Potter's wand in his hand. Draco felt a wave of fear unlike anything he'd felt before. He had no idea where it had come from, but it didn't matter.
Voldemort whirled toward Draco, his red eyes nearly glowing with rage. "Immobilus," he spat, and Draco was paralyzed. "I don't believe for a moment that you are so incompetent to have forgotten to divest Potter of his wand." He stalked toward Draco, who could do nothing but watch in horror. "I suspected your father had turned against me, and I was right. But this insignificant rebellion ends tonight. I will not be brought down by a traitor."
Draco felt Potter's and Weasley's thoughts racing, but they were so quick he couldn't follow. He could only stare into the pale sunken face beneath the hood.
"Rest assured I will deal with your father shortly," Voldemort continued. "And I will leave you to Bellatrix, I think. She's quite fond of you, after all."
The Dark Lord turned back to Potter and raised his wand. Potter seemed frozen to the spot, though Draco could only see him peripherally. Move! he thought frantically, At least make yourself a difficult target! But Potter didn't move; he simply waited.
"This was far easier than I expected it to be," Voldemort said. "I have never considered you an equal, despite what the prophecy said."
Harry, what are you doing? The thought was Weasley's, and Draco saw Potter flinch at it. Why wasn't he moving?
Got a death wish, Potter? Want to take us with you? There was no response, as if Potter were trying to keep his mind blank.
Of course -- Draco realized it a moment too late -- the Dark Lord was a highly skilled Legilimens, and Potter was fighting to keep him from learning any more than he already had done. Weasley was their only hope now.
Voldemort's rumbling laugh filled the chamber. "What is your hidden friend waiting for?" He waved a hand and the invisibility cloak was pulled away from Weasley. Weasley's expression was fierce beneath it, and his wand was trained on Voldemort in an instant. "This is what the Ministry sends against me -- three wizards, little more than schoolboys? How pathetic." He looked back at Potter, apparently unconcerned about Weasley's threatening wand. "But you will still be first." He aimed his wand at Potter's heart.
There was a wave of panic that seemed to come from Weasley, a sense that things hadn't gone according to plan, that Harry wasn't doing what he was supposed to do, that they should have brought Draco in sooner, and so many other thoughts that Draco had trouble following them. There was an answering sense of forced calm from Potter, but it didn't abate the rising determination in Weasley.
No! Draco thought, not sure if Weasley would hear. He's baiting you--
"No!" Weasley's voice echoed throughout the chamber. "Ava--"
But Weasley's wand was out of his hand and sailing across the room before he could get the words out. Voldemort laughed, brandishing their captured wands in one hand and turning his own towards Weasley. "So foolishly predictable. Avada kedavra." The spell caught Weasley square in the chest and knocked him back against the wall.
There was a flash of surprise, and then Draco felt as if something had been ripped from his body. The pain of it was blinding, but then it was gone as quickly as it had come. His instinct was to pull back into himself, away from those ragged edges that had been left in his mind, away from Potter's mirrored sense of shock.
"No!" Potter was shouting, on his feet again. "Ron!"
But Voldemort advanced on him, cackling. "I have been waiting for this moment for years, Potter. You will fall, and then the Malfoys, and then no one will be left to oppose me. No one would dare."
Potter flattened himself against the wall and held out his hand, but Voldemort held fast to his captive wand.
Draco could feel his own wand in his fingers, hard and smooth, but there was nothing he could do. It would all be over in a matter of seconds, just as he'd known it would, and he was powerless to stop it.
I'm so sorry, he heard. Draco felt a wave of emotion move through him at the words, spoken so clearly in his mind.
I know, he thought, and closed his eyes.
His eyes -- he felt a tingle move through him at the realization. He could move, though he didn't know how or when it had happened. He didn't hesitate another second -- he raised his wand and spoke the words of the killing curse.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion after that. Draco saw the Dark Lord's body jolted by the impact of the spell, saw him crash to the ground, saw Potter scramble for his wand and stalk toward the Dark Lord, brandishing it before him, his eyes wild and his chest heaving.
Draco sank to his knees, drained. How had that happened? One moment, he'd been completely immobilized, and the next he wasn't. Was it the perfidio spell, or had he done that himself?
Potter stared down at Voldemort for what seemed like minutes before turning to look at Draco, dumbfounded. "You did it. You killed him."
Draco could only stare at him in response. "I…" he began, and then felt the blood drain from his face. He couldn't think straight. One thought floated to the surface of his mind: "My father's going to kill me."
Potter stared at him a second more, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He shook his head, then turned to where Weasley lay crumpled on the floor and stumbled toward him. Draco could feel shock and grief rising within Potter all over again, and it was more than he could bear. Potter's pain ripped through him, wrenching sobs from him, making him understand just what this loss meant, what Potter had lost. He couldn't bring himself to cross the room. He couldn't bear to be any closer.
He turned instead to the Dark Lord's body, twisted and lifeless upon the floor, panic filling his mind. "We have to hide it," he whispered, wiping at his face with his hands. He pushed himself to his feet and staggered towards where Voldemort's corpse lay, feeling his head swimming. "Yes, hide it. Then they'll never know."
"What are you talking about?" Potter asked, his voice strained. "He's dead. It's over."
"They'll kill us," Draco said. "This wasn't supposed to happen. Bellatrix Lestrange is with my father at this very moment, and she'll bring the others."
"You said the spell would keep us from telling what we did," Harry said, rising to his feet. "You said--"
"I didn't know this would happen!" Draco cried. "You've no idea what they'll do. If the world finds out the Dark Lord is dead, they'll lose everything, and they'll come after us. We won't be able to tell, but it won't matter. They'll torture us, kill us--"
"I don't care," Potter spat. "This is all I wanted to do. This is what I was born to do. Dumbledore died because of me. Ron died because of me. If someone kills me for this, good. I've earned it!"
"No," Draco said. "You -- ow, fuck!" He pressed a hand to his forehead, and saw Potter do the same.
"What's happening?" Potter said, grimacing.
"I don't know. It could be the spell. I don't know how all of this--" he gestured at Weasley's body "--affects it." The pain began to fade after a moment, but it was still present, humming underneath his thoughts. He gestured at the Dark Lord's corpse with his wand. "We haven't got much time. We'll bury him under the floor."
"Don't you think they'd look there?" Potter grunted, though he didn't seem to be objecting.
"Not if they don't know he's dead," Draco replied. "They think he can't be killed, right? We'll tell them that he figured out it was a trap, killed Weasley, knocked us around a bit, and then vanished."
"That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard!" Potter said, gesturing at the body. "They'll never believe us! Besides, we can't hide the truth."
"The spell is supposed to prevent us from telling the truth, remember? We just need to agree on the cover story." Potter looked exasperated, and Draco's frustration grew. "For fuck's sake, help me! We haven't much time."
"All right, fine," Potter said, his voice shaky. "Oh god, I can't believe this…" He made a helpless gesture.
Draco talked him through a spell to create a space for the body under the floor and move it there, then mask all traces of it -- it was one he'd picked up working with mobsters in New York, but he hadn't thought he would ever use it himself. They worked together to cast the spell, and then it was done. Only a scorch mark remained in the center of the floor.
Potter snapped Voldemort's wand into three pieces and incinerated them with a spell. As they watched the smoke curl up toward the ceiling, the pain swept through them again, this time more severe than before. They fell to their knees, both clenching their skulls.
"They're coming," Draco mumbled, feeling himself start to fade from consciousness. He could hear footsteps on the stairs, echoing, getting closer. He saw Potter crawling toward Weasley's body, saw him take Weasley's hand in his, and then the darkness consumed him.
+++++
Tuesday, 16 March, 2004
"He's waking up!"
Draco squinted: several blurry faces were floating above him. He blinked his eyes a few times.
"Go get the Aurors, quickly!" It was Hermione's voice.
"Am I being arrested again?" he asked, his tongue stumbling over the words.
"It's all right, Draco, don't worry." That was Manny, and the hand that stroked his arm seemed to belong to Manny as well.
"Right," Draco said, and coughed. His mouth was horribly dry. He tried to sit up, and realized he was in a bed. "Where am I?"
"At St. Mungo's," Hermione said. "You were the last to awaken, and we were worried."
"How long was I--?"
"More than 12 hours," Manny said, smiling at him. "You're up just in time for lunch."
"Just overnight?" Draco repeated. It felt like he'd been out for weeks.
And everything washed over him then -- the memories, everything that had happened. Especially--
"Where's Harry?" His eyes were starting to focus, and he stared wildly around the room, looking for him.
"He's fine," Hermione said, her voice hushed and calm. "He woke up a few hours ago."
Draco stilled at the concerned look on her face. "What is it? What's wrong?"
Hermione glanced at the door and leaned forward. "They don't want you to see or talk to anyone else who was involved with the incident. There's going to be a commission and you have to testify--"
"I can't see Harry until… You're joking!" After everything he'd remembered, he needed to see Harry, to touch him, to talk to him, to know if it had been real. What if it wasn't?
"I'm not joking. And I'm sorry, but--"
The door opened and Hermione sprang away from the bed. Manny stepped back as well, though not with as much haste. A stern-looking witch entered the room and stopped by his bed, looking down her long nose at him.
"Good to see you're awake, Mr. Malfoy. I assume you'll be feeling well enough to testify before the commission tomorrow?"
Draco frowned. "I won't agree to anything until I've been told what's going on."
The witch looked tired at this. "Mr. Malfoy, please remember that you recently escaped custody after being arrested for murder. You are hardly in a position to make demands."
A murder I didn't commit, Draco thought. Relief spread through him, tangibly warm, and he smiled.
The witch gave him an odd look. She straightened her shoulders and pulled a piece of parchment from the pocket of her robe and unfolded it. "An investigative commission has been charged by the Minister for Magic himself to investigate the incident that occurred on the ninth of February 2001 at the secondary residence of Lucius Malfoy, and to ascertain the relevance of any new information recently recovered to said incident." She looked up. "In other words, we want you to tell us what you now remember, in a hearing, under veritaserum."
"And I don't have a choice, I suppose?" Draco snorted.
"No, Mr. Malfoy. I'm afraid you don't."
Draco scowled at the door after she'd left. "How much detail are they expecting, anyway?" he asked. There were certain parts of his newly-recovered memory that he'd like to keep private. Others, he'd be happy to shout to the rooftops.
The Auror who'd stationed himself by the door coughed, and Hermione bit her lip.
"You aren't supposed to talk about it at all until the commission tomorrow."
"And why a special commission? Why aren't we going before the Wizengamot?"
"Politics," Hermione replied, one eyebrow raised. "Fallin is the only one who could deny the Wizengamot the right to hear your testimony. Perhaps he thinks you know something that would incriminate him."
"Visiting hours are over," the Auror said, looking stern.
Hermione looked thoroughly annoyed. She took Draco's hand and squeezed it. "We'll see you tomorrow, all right? Harry says--" The Auror coughed again, and Hermione grimaced. "Well… goodbye for now."
Manny winked at him and followed her out the door, leaving Draco alone with the grim-faced Auror.
+++++
It was good to have a chance to catch up on his sleep, he told himself later that day. He hadn't been sleeping well for weeks, ever since he'd arrived in London, and he was more tired than he'd realized.
But when he slept, he dreamed -- he relived things that had happened in the past with varying degrees of detail, sometimes with endings that differed from reality. Each dream jolted him awake, leaving him confused and worried. What if he didn't get it right? Would they know? And even though they'd cast the counterspell to perfidio, would they be able to talk about what they'd done? After everything he'd been through -- even though he now knew he hadn't committed the murder he'd been charged with -- what if there was still something he'd done that he could be sent to prison for?
I killed Voldemort.
He didn't want to have been the one who did that. He squeezed his eyes shut at the very thought. After everything that had happened, he wanted nothing more than to run away with Harry and start a new life, something far away from the past and present. If Harry still wanted him.
Draco sighed and rubbed his forehead with one hand, chastising himself for his insecurity. Of course Harry wanted him -- they'd found each other twice, hadn't they? And Hermione and Harry had been right about him -- he wasn't the one who had killed Ron. Even though the pain of Weasley's consciousness being ripped away from his own was still fresh in his mind, Draco felt a stab of fear that the memory wasn't real. What if his and Harry's memories didn't match? Would they believe him?
He managed to fall asleep again, but a particularly nice dream about Harry and a sofa left him awake and hard. He excused himself to the room's small toilet for a wank, but after a few minutes, the Auror, a pudgy man called Dermond, knocked on the door to ask why he was taking so long. It killed the mood completely. Draco had half a mind to wank in front of the man, but decided against it. It was private, after all, and he didn't want to share it with anyone -- not even peripherally.
Dermond played solitaire snap in his chair by the door for the rest of the evening, and Draco pulled the hospital sheets over his head, wishing tomorrow would come more quickly.
+++++
Continued here, because it's TOO LONG for one post!
Title: Surrender the Grey
Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Draco Malfoy returns to London after five years of self-imposed exile to start a new life with Harry. But will the secrets of the past destroy everything they've worked for?
Sequel to: Left My Heart. This will make much more sense if you have read that first!
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no copyright violation intended.
Length: 150,000 words
Status: COMPLETED November 2, 2005 (Posted March 2 - November 2, 2005)
Notes:
1. Please don't archive this story yet! This is the first draft, and in the next few months, it will be revised and edited. I'll post the final version on my website and a few other select archives, but in the meantime, feel free to link to this post.
2. There aren't enough words to say THANK YOU to
jedirita, hazelhawthorne, and charlotteschaos for beta-ing this story! These are some of the hardest-working betas out there, and they deserve lots of snaps for putting up with me for eight months.3. Even though the backstory of this fic only assumes canon up through Order of the Phoenix, I stole a few cool ideas from Half Blood Prince. Cause they were cooler than mine...
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29
(30)
Draco stood on the stone terrace and stared out at the sea below. The sky was grey and damp, and the waves were high. They crashed against the rocks below with a rhythmic fury that was mesmerizing. He had never spent much time by the sea as a child -- his mother was always concerned he would burn.
Ebby appeared beside him with a pop, startling him. "Master Draco," she said, her high voice cutting through the sound of the wind around them. "There is wizards here. Harry Potter and--"
"Thank you," he replied, and turned back to the castle.
It was time, then.
He found Potter and Weasley in the foyer with his father. Weasley and Lucius were glaring at each other, and Potter's expression was stony. Draco couldn't help but pause at the sight. Who would have thought the four of them would collaborate to bring down Voldemort?
"I'll thank you not to speak of my father again," Weasley said. The tone of his voice was tighter than Draco had ever heard before. Weasley hadn't said anything in front of him, but Draco knew he blamed Lucius for the Diagon Alley disaster, for not doing more to prevent it. Draco agreed with him on that point, but he hadn't worked up the courage to tell him so.
"Regardless, my condolences," Lucius said, giving Weasley a cool look. He studied his pocket watch, a gesture Draco knew meant he was uncomfortable. Weasley only scowled in response.
"We haven't much time," Draco said as a way of announcing his presence. Potter and Weasley turned toward him, both looking relieved. "If you'll follow me, we'll start the preparations."
Lucius cast him a meaningful glance, but Draco ignored it. He knew his father wanted to know precisely what would happen when Voldemort arrived tonight. So did Draco, actually.
They left Lucius standing in the foyer and walked down a set of stairs into the dusty basement room that contained the entrance to the hidden chamber below the castle. Draco whispered the spell his father had showed him only days before, pointing his wand at a stretch of blank wall. The doorway materialized before them and creaked open, revealing a narrow stairway descending into darkness.
Draco heard Potter chuckle behind him as they stepped through. "I feel as if I'm in a Muggle horror film."
"Careful what you wish for," Draco muttered. They descended quickly, lit wands held out before them. After a moment, they could see the flicker of torchlight from the chamber below.
"I might've known this place would have a dungeon," Weasley said as they walked into the chamber. The potion Draco had made earlier was bubbling away in a cauldron at the center, emitting a faint light. "Does your father lock up Muggle-borns in here, or something?" Weasley asked.
Draco snorted. "He's only had this place since my mother died. He says the family home reminds him of her too much." Weasley and Potter both turned to stare at him, as if they found this difficult to believe. Draco shrugged. "It suits our purposes, doesn't it?"
"So this is part of the perfidio spell?" Potter asked, nodding towards the cauldron.
"Yes, and we should get started as soon as possible." Draco pulled a list of written instructions from his pocket.
"Actually, there's something we need to do first," Potter said, moving to stand in front of him. "Hit me."
Draco could only look back at him blankly. "Sorry?"
"I need to look like I've been roughed up a bit, don't I?"
Even though Draco was still cross with Potter, he had no desire to hit him. "Can't you use a spell?"
"He thinks it will leave residual magic," Weasley said, looking annoyed. "I've already said no."
"Come on, Malfoy," Potter said, almost sneering. "I've been a prick to you the last two days. I know you'd like to take a shot at me."
Draco clenched his jaw. "I'm not playing your little baiting game," he replied. "If you want me to do this, I'll do it, but don't fool yourself into thinking it's personal."
"But it is personal," Potter said, stepping closer. "Between you and me, it always has been."
"You'll have to do better than that," Draco replied.
"What, afraid you'll break a nail?"
Draco rolled his eyes, and then punched him squarely across the jaw. Potter staggered back, wincing, and Draco went after him again, hitting him three or four times more. He stepped back and shook out his aching hand. "There. Happy?"
Several large bruises were blossoming on Potter's face, and blood was trickling down his chin where Draco had split his lip. "Yeah, that'll do," he grunted, pushing himself to his feet. "You hit harder than I expected."
An image of Potter writhing under him while Draco slammed into his arse flickered through Draco's mind, and he smirked. "So I've been told." He turned back to the cauldron and studied it, then smoothed out the parchment he'd crumpled in his fist. "It's getting late. We need to do this."
"Right," Weasley said, casting a worried glance at Potter, who was still rubbing his jaw. "What do we do?"
"It requires blood from each of us," Draco said. He conjured glass vials and left them hanging in the air over the cauldron, then retrieved a small blade from his bag of supplies. He cut himself first, then passed the knife to Potter. He kept his focus on his own blood trickling into the vial, not watching the others cut themselves. When his vial contained enough blood, he pressed his fingers against the cut and waited.
"Here," Potter said, and traced one finger along Draco's wound. When he pulled his hand away, only a faint pink line remained.
"Thanks," Draco said, looking up at him.
Potter nodded and looked away.
They added the contents of their vials to the potion at the same time, and watched as it turned a deep shade of purple. Draco glanced at his written instructions. There had been no indication of what color the potion should be at this point, so he could only hope this was proceeding correctly.
"Now, do have your metal objects?" he asked.
Weasley held up his right hand to show a ring with a jade stone set into it. "This was my grandfather's," he said.
Draco nodded and pulled up his sleeve to show the silver bracelet on his wrist. "This was my mother's."
They turned to Potter, who was blushing. "I don't have any jewelry, actually," he said. "So I brought this." He held up a weathered key.
"That's not good enough," Draco told him, his stomach sinking. "It can't be an ordinary object -- it has to have great personal value."
"It does," Potter told him. "It's… it was the key to Grimmauld Place, where my godfather lived. When I bought my flat, I transfigured it to fit the lock." He shrugged.
"I didn't know that," Weasley said, staring at him. "Was that his key, then?"
"Yes," Potter said, looking sheepish. "At least, I think it was. And the flat is the most important thing I own, so I thought--"
"It's good enough," Draco told him with a small smile.
"So do we just drop them in?" Weasley asked.
"There has to be skin contact with the objects for us to cast the spell," Draco said. "We have to hold them and put them in, like this." He demonstrated.
"But the potion's bubbling," Potter said, casting a wary glance into the cauldron.
"It's not hot," Weasley replied, holding his hand just over the surface. "It's fine."
They all looked at each other for a moment.
"Right," Draco said, holding out his hand. "We put our hands in and say perfidio three times. Ready?" None of them bothered to hide their nervousness as they stepped forward to crowd around the cauldron.
Weasley looked up at Draco. "Are you sure about this? Because if this doesn't work or fucks things up, I'm holding you personally responsible."
Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "On three. One, two, three." They sank their hands into the potion, pressing the metal objects tightly together as they did. Weasley had been right -- it wasn't hot; in fact it was a pleasant temperature, and made Draco's hand feel tingly. He felt two sets of fingers wrap around his wrist under the surface, pressing against his bracelet. It was oddly comforting.
He looked up and nodded at them.
"Perfidio. Perfidio. Perfidio."
The tingle in Draco's hand intensified and began to travel up his arm. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was disconcerting. It spread into his chest and up into his head, making his hair stand on end. It moved down his torso and legs, tickling the soles of his feet. All at once the feeling disappeared, and they gasped as their hands were pushed up and out of the potion as if by great force.
"Whoa," Weasley said, his eyes wide. The potion turned bright red, and began to swirl as if going down a drain. Within seconds, the cauldron was empty.
"That was utterly bizarre," Potter said. "I've never felt anything like it."
Draco smirked. That's because you haven't taken the right drugs.
Potter and Weasley simultaneously looked up and stared at him.
"What?" Draco asked.
"I didn't see his lips move," Weasley said, blue eyes wide.
Draco gaped. "Wait -- you heard that?"
"Yes," Potter replied. "Is that supposed to happen?"
"I don't know," Draco replied.
What do you mean, you don't know? There was no question the thought had come from Weasley.
Draco snorted. "The paper just said it binds us together for the task -- it said nothing about telepathy."
"I'm sure we'll find it useful," Potter said. He nodded his head very slightly towards Weasley and gave Draco a meaningful look. "But we should all be careful what we think about, in the meantime."
Draco placed his bag in the cauldron and banished them both, trying to keep his mind blank. "Well, the plan then. Why don't we start with that?"
Potter took a deep breath, looking at Weasley and then back to Draco. "All right. It's very simple. I'm going to kill Voldemort."
"Kill him?" Draco stared at him, shocked.
"Yes, kill him," Weasley repeated, an exasperated tone to his voice. "This has been the plan for years. We were hoping to leave you out of it, but here you are, so that's that."
Draco shook his head, not quite believing hat he was hearing. "But we're supposed to--"
"I know what we're supposed to do," Potter said. "But this is what I'm supposed to do. For almost twenty years, this has been what I am supposed to do, and a little promise made to your father is hardly going to stop me from doing it."
"But he can't be killed," Draco said, panic rising in him now. "He's immortal. He'll kill us all, and--"
"He's not immortal," Potter said, his voice very low. "Not any more."
Draco made a sound like a strangled laugh. "You're insane! We're all going to die, you know."
"I expect to," Potter replied. He looked entirely serious, and for some reason, Draco knew he meant it.
"Not if I can help it," Weasley said, pulling something from the inside of his coat. It was Potter's invisibility cloak, the one he'd had back in school. "Harry will pretend to be your captive, but I'll be hiding under this," he told Draco. "If anything happens, I can back him up."
Draco pressed a hand to his forehead. "So the plan is simply for you to wait while I bring him here, with Weasley hiding, and then you're going to just kill him? Kill the Dark Lord, just like that?"
Potter sighed. "Just like that."
"This isn't going to work," Draco said, shaking his head. "This can't be all there is to your plan."
"He'll want to torture me a bit, I'm sure," Potter said, his expression reserved. "The last few times I've faced him, others took the brunt of it, but I'm ready. I'll have my wand, and I'll wait for an opportunity to strike."
"And that's all? You wait, we wait, and when you decide the time is right, you do it?" Draco held back a frustrated laugh. "Fuck, no wonder you've been doing nothing for the last few weeks. You already had this suicidal plan of insanity. No need to consider anything more complicated."
Potter looked annoyed. "Are you finished?"
"No," Draco retorted. "Do you have any idea what the Death Eaters will do to us if this succeeds? This wasn't their plan, after all. They don't want the Dark Lord killed, they--"
"They're naïve," Potter spat. "They're blind, and they're stupid if they think they could really keep him captive, or whatever they wanted to do with him. This ends with his death or mine, and it ends today."
"And you don't care if it ends with ours as well?" Draco retorted. He felt a wave of pain that didn't come from himself.
"That's not fair," Harry said, shaking his head. "You know that isn't true."
"It's not fair -- you're right about that," Draco muttered. He took a deep breath, but his panic did not abate. This was the plan, and he'd already committed to it. He had no choice. "Are you sure it's even possible to kill him?"
"Yes," Potter said. "But don't ask me how I know. I can't tell you." Draco tried to reach out with his thoughts, but he found nothing. Potter's mind seemed to be carefully blank.
"It's just as well," Draco sighed. "I'd only think you were more delusional." His stomach was twisting with dread, but there was no turning back now. The spell wouldn't let him walk away. The irony was great, though -- he'd trusted Potter with his life, and Potter was going to lead him right to his death.
"You won't die," Potter said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Look at me, Draco. You aren't going to die. Voldemort won't see this coming. He doesn't know he's mortal. And he doesn't know you're on my side."
Draco gritted his teeth against the emotion rising in his throat. This was real. Potter was serious; he was ready to die if necessary and there was nothing Draco could do about it. He wondered if Weasley had tried to talk him out of this insanity and failed.
Weasley snorted and folded his arms over his chest.
"And Ron won't die, either, unless he does something stupid," Potter continued, giving Weasley a teasing glance.
Weasley sighed. "Which I'm quite likely to do, you know. So that leaves you, Draco." He stepped forward and put his hand on Draco's other shoulder, his expression suddenly solemn. "And if we don't survive this, I want…" he paused and swallowed. "Tell Hermione about this. Tell her what we did, and why. Tell her I…" He stopped and pressed his lips together, looking away. "Tell her I love her and the children more then anything, and that I did this for them. Okay?"
"I will," Draco whispered. It was all he could think of to say.
"Now go," Potter said, his voice firm. "We'll be ready when you return." They stepped away.
Draco stared at Potter, his emotions reeling. Things had gone so terribly wrong between them, and he hadn't expected they wouldn't have a chance to patch it up. It was too late now. They were out of time.
Potter smiled at him, and with a rush of relief, Draco knew he understood. Draco stepped forward and kissed him, carefully avoiding the spot where his lip was split, then turned and walked away.
+++++
Lucius offered him scotch, but Draco refused. He needed to focus on the task before him, and to keep his mind closed enough that neither Lucius nor the Dark Lord would know what was about to happen.
"Are you certain I can't be of assistance?" Lucius asked. Draco had never seen him so tense.
He nodded, and then started as he felt a spike of emotion that wasn't his own. He couldn't hear any of Potter's or Weasley's thoughts from this distance, but every now and then he felt something.
"You must relax," his father hissed. "The Dark Lord will know."
"Don't worry," Draco said, staring at the tapestry across the room in an effort to clear his mind. "He won't."
It was ten agonizing minutes more before a hooded figure apparated into the room. Draco had to struggle not to reach for his wand.
"The Dark Lord will be here soon," Bellatrix Lestrange said, pushing the hood away from her face. "He is looking forward to eliminating Potter at last." She smirked at Draco. "Lucius, you must be proud of your son's accomplishment."
Draco smirked back. "Lovely to see you as well, Auntie Bella."
She moved forward until she was standing before his chair, looming over him with a sneer on her face. "You are so much like your mother -- foolishly loyal to people for the wrong reasons. Pity."
Draco only stared at her in response. He'd forgotten what family politics were like.
"Now Bellatrix," Lucius said, standing. "It isn't polite to speak ill of the dead." Under that calm exterior, Draco imagined he was seething. "Let us not be bickering when the Dark Lord comes. This is a day to celebrate. Potter will finally be dead, and nothing will stand in the Dark Lord's way."
"Potter has been but a nuisance to him," she spat, her dark eyes narrowing. "Just another of Dumbledore's lackeys, too foolish to give up the fight when the old man died." She leaned forward, staring at Draco intensely. "Where is he? I want to see Potter for myself."
Lucius smiled as if chastising a naughty child. "Now, Bella, he is for the Dark Lord to dispose of. He isn't to be touched by anyone else."
"Perhaps I don't trust you," she replied, still keeping her eyes locked on Draco's. "There have been far too many rumors about you, Lucius. There are many who suspect you of treason."
Lucius laughed, and the sound was bitter and hollow in his throat. "I am aware of the rumors, which is precisely why I enlisted Draco's help to capture Potter. It is my gift to our Lord, a gesture of my loyalty."
Bellatrix snorted as if she didn't believe a word of it, and scowled. "Why is your mind closed, boy? What are you hiding?"
Draco leered. "If you want so badly to examine my memories of fucking Potter into submission, I'm happy to oblige."
"Perverted little queer," she spat, stepping away from him. "Your mother would be so ashamed."
"Of my stooping to work with a half-crazed lunatic like you? Yes."
Bellatrix made a hissing sound not unlike that of a cat and lunged for him.
Lucius's wand was at her throat in an instant. "Do not threaten my son," he said, his voice low and gravelly. Draco felt an odd twinge of affection for his father. He doubted it would last.
Bellatrix froze, cocking her head as if listening. "The Dark Lord is coming," she whispered, and an expression of mad glee spread across her face.
Draco focused his thoughts and let everything go -- his fears, his doubts, his anger -- and made his mind as blank as possible.
They waited, the silence and tension deafening. At last, there was a hissing sound, and a figure appeared in the center of the foyer. It wore a dark cloak and seemed to be shrouded in mist.
Draco willed his heart not to pound, willed his feet to remain where they were. It wasn't the first time he had been in the presence of the Dark Lord, but it always felt like this -- like he was walking a very thin line between a tortured life and a painful death.
The figure turned and red eyes glinted from beneath the hood. Draco couldn't see a mouth moving, but a hissing voice emerged from where the Dark Lord's face was shrouded. "Take me to him."
Draco didn't look at his father or at Bellatrix. He nodded and gestured down a corridor, then began to walk. He could hear whispered voices arguing behind him, and then a solitary set of footsteps. He exhaled, relieved. If Bellatrix had come along, it would have made the situation much more difficult.
"This way," he said, waving his wand at the door to the underground chamber. It swung upon with a groan, and Draco heard a rumbling laugh behind him.
"How appropriate. Lucius is nothing if not predictable."
Draco didn't allow himself to think anything in response. They descended the stairs, and with each step, Draco felt his resolve strengthening. He could do this. They could be successful. It was possible. He didn't know if it was the spell bolstering him or if he believed it was true, but it didn't matter at the moment.
They stepped into the chamber to find it mostly dark -- several of the torches had gone out, and those that remained flickered, casting ghostly shadows on the stone walls. Potter was slumped against the opposite wall, looking very much the defeated prisoner, and Weasley was nowhere in sight.
Potter's eyes narrowed at the sight of Voldemort, but otherwise he didn't react. He remained sitting on the floor, watching the Dark Lord draw closer. Draco walked a step behind, watching.
"At last," Voldemort said, his voice an unearthly sound. "Who would have thought the great Harry Potter would be brought to his knees for something so very base?" Draco imagined he was grinning maniacally.
Potter stared up at him, not even flinching. "Who says I'm on my knees?" He pushed himself to his feet, and it seemed to take effort. In the dim light, the injuries to his face seemed more dramatic, and the blood on his lip glistened black. He kept his gaze firmly on Voldemort's face, and he didn't look frightened.
Draco had expected to be trembling by now, but he wasn't -- he felt confident, even giddy. They were going to be successful; they only needed to focus on this task. He let a mask fall over his face as the Dark Lord turned to him.
"Stand by my side, Draco. Watch and learn."
Draco stepped forward and the Dark Lord raised his wand. Draco watched, but Potter didn't respond, didn't go for his wand. He just stared back.
"I have waited far too long for this day, and I think I shall enjoy it a bit longer. Crucio!"
Draco cringed as he felt the wave of pain rip through Potter. He didn't feel the pain itself, but Potter's response to it, which was strangely worse. Though he had seen this spell cast many times before, he'd never experienced it this way. Potter fell to the floor and writhed in pain, making strangled noises. Draco's fists were clenched tightly at his sides.
The Dark Lord dropped his wand and Potter collapsed against the stone floor, panting. He glared up at Voldemort defiantly.
"How pathetic you are," Voldemort said, his voice almost oily in Draco's ears. "I have been patient, Potter. I have waited years and have killed many people, just to arrive at this moment. Tonight I will finally finish it." He paused, as if waiting to see if Potter would respond. He didn't, and Voldemort made a sound like a laugh. "I only wish Dumbledore could have lived long enough to see this moment of defeat. How I would have loved for him to watch you die."
Potter still said nothing, did nothing. Draco wondered what he was waiting for. Why not end this now? He had his wand, and he could catch the Dark Lord by surprise.
"Draco," Voldemort said, startling him out of his thoughts. "He should suffer more before he dies. Torture him."
Draco was glad for the dim light; it hid the paleness of his face. He had no idea what to do. If he refused, the Dark Lord would become suspicious, but he couldn't imagine casting that particular spell on someone he cared for.
But he had little choice. "Yes," he said at last, his mind spinning. "He should." He raised his wand and opened his mouth, but nothing happened. He couldn't remember the word to cast the spell. He blinked and stepped forward, pointing his wand at Potter more firmly. His mind remained blank.
Potter stared back at him, and Draco heard in his mind a very clear, Do it! But he couldn't.
It's the spell, he thought. It won't let me hurt you. He saw from the subtle widening of Potter's eyes that he'd heard.
Draco lowered his wand and stepped back. "On second thought, why waste our time? I've waited years to see him die."
"Very well," the Dark Lord said, his voice disintegrating into a hiss. "Kill him."
"What?" Draco spat before he could stop himself. "But you are the one -- that is your honor, my Lord. I wouldn't dare--"
"I am giving that honor to you," the Dark Lord replied, turning toward Draco. "You are the one who managed to bring him to me when so many others have failed, have you not? So kill him. Immediately."
Draco raised his wand again, a fierce expression on his face. It wasn't even possible, even if he were willing, and the Dark Lord would discover that at any moment.
He swallowed and stared at Potter, willing him to give Draco a clue as to what he should do. Potter just stared back at him, the expression on his face unreadable.
"I've dreamed about doing this for years, you know," Draco told him, forcing himself to sneer.
"Funny," Potter retorted. "You said the same thing just before you sucked my cock."
Draco stepped closer, scowling, his mind racing. How were they going to get out of this? Sniping would only buy them a bit of time, and then--
He saw a dark shape move beside Potter's head on the wall -- a cockroach. Draco swore he'd remember to thank every god he could think of when this was over.
"Goodbye, Potter." He narrowed his eyes and thought, Do it now. Use this as a cover. He felt Potter's understanding just as he aimed his wand at the insect and said, "Avada kedavra!"
Potter ducked the opposite way and the spell hit the wall beside him, blasting a hole in the stone. Draco dove for the floor.
Several spells were shouted and flashes of light flew over his head. The room suddenly seemed to be full of smoke and rubble, and Draco found himself disoriented by a strong sense of panic. It was another second before he realized it wasn't his own.
He scrambled to his feet and saw that Voldemort was holding Potter's wand in his hand. Draco felt a wave of fear unlike anything he'd felt before. He had no idea where it had come from, but it didn't matter.
Voldemort whirled toward Draco, his red eyes nearly glowing with rage. "Immobilus," he spat, and Draco was paralyzed. "I don't believe for a moment that you are so incompetent to have forgotten to divest Potter of his wand." He stalked toward Draco, who could do nothing but watch in horror. "I suspected your father had turned against me, and I was right. But this insignificant rebellion ends tonight. I will not be brought down by a traitor."
Draco felt Potter's and Weasley's thoughts racing, but they were so quick he couldn't follow. He could only stare into the pale sunken face beneath the hood.
"Rest assured I will deal with your father shortly," Voldemort continued. "And I will leave you to Bellatrix, I think. She's quite fond of you, after all."
The Dark Lord turned back to Potter and raised his wand. Potter seemed frozen to the spot, though Draco could only see him peripherally. Move! he thought frantically, At least make yourself a difficult target! But Potter didn't move; he simply waited.
"This was far easier than I expected it to be," Voldemort said. "I have never considered you an equal, despite what the prophecy said."
Harry, what are you doing? The thought was Weasley's, and Draco saw Potter flinch at it. Why wasn't he moving?
Got a death wish, Potter? Want to take us with you? There was no response, as if Potter were trying to keep his mind blank.
Of course -- Draco realized it a moment too late -- the Dark Lord was a highly skilled Legilimens, and Potter was fighting to keep him from learning any more than he already had done. Weasley was their only hope now.
Voldemort's rumbling laugh filled the chamber. "What is your hidden friend waiting for?" He waved a hand and the invisibility cloak was pulled away from Weasley. Weasley's expression was fierce beneath it, and his wand was trained on Voldemort in an instant. "This is what the Ministry sends against me -- three wizards, little more than schoolboys? How pathetic." He looked back at Potter, apparently unconcerned about Weasley's threatening wand. "But you will still be first." He aimed his wand at Potter's heart.
There was a wave of panic that seemed to come from Weasley, a sense that things hadn't gone according to plan, that Harry wasn't doing what he was supposed to do, that they should have brought Draco in sooner, and so many other thoughts that Draco had trouble following them. There was an answering sense of forced calm from Potter, but it didn't abate the rising determination in Weasley.
No! Draco thought, not sure if Weasley would hear. He's baiting you--
"No!" Weasley's voice echoed throughout the chamber. "Ava--"
But Weasley's wand was out of his hand and sailing across the room before he could get the words out. Voldemort laughed, brandishing their captured wands in one hand and turning his own towards Weasley. "So foolishly predictable. Avada kedavra." The spell caught Weasley square in the chest and knocked him back against the wall.
There was a flash of surprise, and then Draco felt as if something had been ripped from his body. The pain of it was blinding, but then it was gone as quickly as it had come. His instinct was to pull back into himself, away from those ragged edges that had been left in his mind, away from Potter's mirrored sense of shock.
"No!" Potter was shouting, on his feet again. "Ron!"
But Voldemort advanced on him, cackling. "I have been waiting for this moment for years, Potter. You will fall, and then the Malfoys, and then no one will be left to oppose me. No one would dare."
Potter flattened himself against the wall and held out his hand, but Voldemort held fast to his captive wand.
Draco could feel his own wand in his fingers, hard and smooth, but there was nothing he could do. It would all be over in a matter of seconds, just as he'd known it would, and he was powerless to stop it.
I'm so sorry, he heard. Draco felt a wave of emotion move through him at the words, spoken so clearly in his mind.
I know, he thought, and closed his eyes.
His eyes -- he felt a tingle move through him at the realization. He could move, though he didn't know how or when it had happened. He didn't hesitate another second -- he raised his wand and spoke the words of the killing curse.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion after that. Draco saw the Dark Lord's body jolted by the impact of the spell, saw him crash to the ground, saw Potter scramble for his wand and stalk toward the Dark Lord, brandishing it before him, his eyes wild and his chest heaving.
Draco sank to his knees, drained. How had that happened? One moment, he'd been completely immobilized, and the next he wasn't. Was it the perfidio spell, or had he done that himself?
Potter stared down at Voldemort for what seemed like minutes before turning to look at Draco, dumbfounded. "You did it. You killed him."
Draco could only stare at him in response. "I…" he began, and then felt the blood drain from his face. He couldn't think straight. One thought floated to the surface of his mind: "My father's going to kill me."
Potter stared at him a second more, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He shook his head, then turned to where Weasley lay crumpled on the floor and stumbled toward him. Draco could feel shock and grief rising within Potter all over again, and it was more than he could bear. Potter's pain ripped through him, wrenching sobs from him, making him understand just what this loss meant, what Potter had lost. He couldn't bring himself to cross the room. He couldn't bear to be any closer.
He turned instead to the Dark Lord's body, twisted and lifeless upon the floor, panic filling his mind. "We have to hide it," he whispered, wiping at his face with his hands. He pushed himself to his feet and staggered towards where Voldemort's corpse lay, feeling his head swimming. "Yes, hide it. Then they'll never know."
"What are you talking about?" Potter asked, his voice strained. "He's dead. It's over."
"They'll kill us," Draco said. "This wasn't supposed to happen. Bellatrix Lestrange is with my father at this very moment, and she'll bring the others."
"You said the spell would keep us from telling what we did," Harry said, rising to his feet. "You said--"
"I didn't know this would happen!" Draco cried. "You've no idea what they'll do. If the world finds out the Dark Lord is dead, they'll lose everything, and they'll come after us. We won't be able to tell, but it won't matter. They'll torture us, kill us--"
"I don't care," Potter spat. "This is all I wanted to do. This is what I was born to do. Dumbledore died because of me. Ron died because of me. If someone kills me for this, good. I've earned it!"
"No," Draco said. "You -- ow, fuck!" He pressed a hand to his forehead, and saw Potter do the same.
"What's happening?" Potter said, grimacing.
"I don't know. It could be the spell. I don't know how all of this--" he gestured at Weasley's body "--affects it." The pain began to fade after a moment, but it was still present, humming underneath his thoughts. He gestured at the Dark Lord's corpse with his wand. "We haven't got much time. We'll bury him under the floor."
"Don't you think they'd look there?" Potter grunted, though he didn't seem to be objecting.
"Not if they don't know he's dead," Draco replied. "They think he can't be killed, right? We'll tell them that he figured out it was a trap, killed Weasley, knocked us around a bit, and then vanished."
"That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard!" Potter said, gesturing at the body. "They'll never believe us! Besides, we can't hide the truth."
"The spell is supposed to prevent us from telling the truth, remember? We just need to agree on the cover story." Potter looked exasperated, and Draco's frustration grew. "For fuck's sake, help me! We haven't much time."
"All right, fine," Potter said, his voice shaky. "Oh god, I can't believe this…" He made a helpless gesture.
Draco talked him through a spell to create a space for the body under the floor and move it there, then mask all traces of it -- it was one he'd picked up working with mobsters in New York, but he hadn't thought he would ever use it himself. They worked together to cast the spell, and then it was done. Only a scorch mark remained in the center of the floor.
Potter snapped Voldemort's wand into three pieces and incinerated them with a spell. As they watched the smoke curl up toward the ceiling, the pain swept through them again, this time more severe than before. They fell to their knees, both clenching their skulls.
"They're coming," Draco mumbled, feeling himself start to fade from consciousness. He could hear footsteps on the stairs, echoing, getting closer. He saw Potter crawling toward Weasley's body, saw him take Weasley's hand in his, and then the darkness consumed him.
+++++
Tuesday, 16 March, 2004
"He's waking up!"
Draco squinted: several blurry faces were floating above him. He blinked his eyes a few times.
"Go get the Aurors, quickly!" It was Hermione's voice.
"Am I being arrested again?" he asked, his tongue stumbling over the words.
"It's all right, Draco, don't worry." That was Manny, and the hand that stroked his arm seemed to belong to Manny as well.
"Right," Draco said, and coughed. His mouth was horribly dry. He tried to sit up, and realized he was in a bed. "Where am I?"
"At St. Mungo's," Hermione said. "You were the last to awaken, and we were worried."
"How long was I--?"
"More than 12 hours," Manny said, smiling at him. "You're up just in time for lunch."
"Just overnight?" Draco repeated. It felt like he'd been out for weeks.
And everything washed over him then -- the memories, everything that had happened. Especially--
"Where's Harry?" His eyes were starting to focus, and he stared wildly around the room, looking for him.
"He's fine," Hermione said, her voice hushed and calm. "He woke up a few hours ago."
Draco stilled at the concerned look on her face. "What is it? What's wrong?"
Hermione glanced at the door and leaned forward. "They don't want you to see or talk to anyone else who was involved with the incident. There's going to be a commission and you have to testify--"
"I can't see Harry until… You're joking!" After everything he'd remembered, he needed to see Harry, to touch him, to talk to him, to know if it had been real. What if it wasn't?
"I'm not joking. And I'm sorry, but--"
The door opened and Hermione sprang away from the bed. Manny stepped back as well, though not with as much haste. A stern-looking witch entered the room and stopped by his bed, looking down her long nose at him.
"Good to see you're awake, Mr. Malfoy. I assume you'll be feeling well enough to testify before the commission tomorrow?"
Draco frowned. "I won't agree to anything until I've been told what's going on."
The witch looked tired at this. "Mr. Malfoy, please remember that you recently escaped custody after being arrested for murder. You are hardly in a position to make demands."
A murder I didn't commit, Draco thought. Relief spread through him, tangibly warm, and he smiled.
The witch gave him an odd look. She straightened her shoulders and pulled a piece of parchment from the pocket of her robe and unfolded it. "An investigative commission has been charged by the Minister for Magic himself to investigate the incident that occurred on the ninth of February 2001 at the secondary residence of Lucius Malfoy, and to ascertain the relevance of any new information recently recovered to said incident." She looked up. "In other words, we want you to tell us what you now remember, in a hearing, under veritaserum."
"And I don't have a choice, I suppose?" Draco snorted.
"No, Mr. Malfoy. I'm afraid you don't."
Draco scowled at the door after she'd left. "How much detail are they expecting, anyway?" he asked. There were certain parts of his newly-recovered memory that he'd like to keep private. Others, he'd be happy to shout to the rooftops.
The Auror who'd stationed himself by the door coughed, and Hermione bit her lip.
"You aren't supposed to talk about it at all until the commission tomorrow."
"And why a special commission? Why aren't we going before the Wizengamot?"
"Politics," Hermione replied, one eyebrow raised. "Fallin is the only one who could deny the Wizengamot the right to hear your testimony. Perhaps he thinks you know something that would incriminate him."
"Visiting hours are over," the Auror said, looking stern.
Hermione looked thoroughly annoyed. She took Draco's hand and squeezed it. "We'll see you tomorrow, all right? Harry says--" The Auror coughed again, and Hermione grimaced. "Well… goodbye for now."
Manny winked at him and followed her out the door, leaving Draco alone with the grim-faced Auror.
+++++
It was good to have a chance to catch up on his sleep, he told himself later that day. He hadn't been sleeping well for weeks, ever since he'd arrived in London, and he was more tired than he'd realized.
But when he slept, he dreamed -- he relived things that had happened in the past with varying degrees of detail, sometimes with endings that differed from reality. Each dream jolted him awake, leaving him confused and worried. What if he didn't get it right? Would they know? And even though they'd cast the counterspell to perfidio, would they be able to talk about what they'd done? After everything he'd been through -- even though he now knew he hadn't committed the murder he'd been charged with -- what if there was still something he'd done that he could be sent to prison for?
I killed Voldemort.
He didn't want to have been the one who did that. He squeezed his eyes shut at the very thought. After everything that had happened, he wanted nothing more than to run away with Harry and start a new life, something far away from the past and present. If Harry still wanted him.
Draco sighed and rubbed his forehead with one hand, chastising himself for his insecurity. Of course Harry wanted him -- they'd found each other twice, hadn't they? And Hermione and Harry had been right about him -- he wasn't the one who had killed Ron. Even though the pain of Weasley's consciousness being ripped away from his own was still fresh in his mind, Draco felt a stab of fear that the memory wasn't real. What if his and Harry's memories didn't match? Would they believe him?
He managed to fall asleep again, but a particularly nice dream about Harry and a sofa left him awake and hard. He excused himself to the room's small toilet for a wank, but after a few minutes, the Auror, a pudgy man called Dermond, knocked on the door to ask why he was taking so long. It killed the mood completely. Draco had half a mind to wank in front of the man, but decided against it. It was private, after all, and he didn't want to share it with anyone -- not even peripherally.
Dermond played solitaire snap in his chair by the door for the rest of the evening, and Draco pulled the hospital sheets over his head, wishing tomorrow would come more quickly.
+++++
Continued here, because it's TOO LONG for one post!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 01:26 pm (UTC)-A
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 01:27 pm (UTC)Yeah. I'll read it really really slowly.
*goes offline and makes coffee*
cormallen
Date: 2005-11-02 01:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 01:27 pm (UTC)Oh, what the hell. I'll read it and just hope it wont kill me. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 01:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 01:38 pm (UTC)Thank you for everything, Emma. It's been amazing.
*off to read*
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 01:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 01:55 pm (UTC)God, this is nerve-wracking! :-P
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 01:56 pm (UTC)Re: cormallen
Date: 2005-11-02 01:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 01:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 01:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 02:00 pm (UTC)*fighting the urge to glance up at that last line*...Not doing it....will be back later
Mad love!!!!
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 02:08 pm (UTC)Thank you so much emma. <3
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 02:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 02:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 03:01 pm (UTC)Ron's parting words, with eerie self-prescience, tugged at the heartstrings.
And clearly, my mind hasn't left the Muggle world. When Draco was told that he'd have to be kept separate from the others involved until after the commission, my heart immediately felt giant pangs: "They're going to keep him away from Harry for months? After them remembering all that?" But no, this is the Wizarding world, where folks care just that little bit more about actually getting things done. A day? Suck it up, old boy. Get in a good nap or seven.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 03:03 pm (UTC)I have no short-term memory whatsoever, so I've been holding off on reading until I could read the whole thing at once, and...and now I CAN. *loves you*
Real commentary will come after I actually *do*. :) :) :)
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 04:57 pm (UTC)aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!! *runs off to read* OMG as I was scrolling down I was thinking 'this can't be it yet!' hee.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 05:25 pm (UTC)Now I can read it in its entirety (yes, I did not touch your STG posts at all!)
*picks up red pencil, coffee*
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 06:29 pm (UTC)I can't believe it is done.
I appologize for being a bad beta and not getting back to you on this, but I am in that stupid first blush phase of love where I seem to have no time for anything other than being with him, talking to him or thinking of him (on top of my already full life). I haven't even had time to read the second part and I can't read it at work today, cause I start my new job tomorrow so I have to get this job cleaned up enough for the new girl today and then I have another date with my boyfriend tonight so I don't even know when I will have a chance to finish this.
I know it is going to be good, because it is you and Rita and Charlotte are awesome, but I am going nuts here, knowing it is up and that I can't read it.
I can't wait to read the whole thing through for the rewrite.
I'm so proud of you for finishing this monster. You rock so hard.
*snuggles emma*
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 07:12 pm (UTC)Damn you, indecisiveness!
You know what?! Who needs education >_> anyway? Right so I'm off to read *glares at family so they know not to approach for an hour or so*. OMG! I can't believe it's finished. I came early from school and it wasn't here and I could have cried and now I feel like crying tears of happiness *sniff*.
I'm prolonging this I know *sheepish grin*.
*goes off to read*
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 07:20 pm (UTC)I'm so happeeee xD I wake up to this!
I love this part, and I hardly wanted to take the time to post and tell you that before reading the next part. I knew Draco was innocent -huggles the poor three- Poor Ron.
I'm loving it though, sooooo much xD
Re: cormallen
Date: 2005-11-02 08:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 08:17 pm (UTC)That is NOT the case with STG. Great job, Emma! Not only did you rarely, if ever, keep us waiting, but you wrote a great story. I had no idea when I started reading this how detailed and involved it would be.
Thank you for writing this story - and I look forward to your future projects!
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 08:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 09:42 pm (UTC)Cut, pasted, saved, converted, downloaded and now to sit down and enjoy reading it on the Palm.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 10:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 10:31 pm (UTC)"And Ron won't die, either, unless he does something stupid."
That line killed me. It really, really did. lol, do you know I haven't been able to concentrate on anything at work today because I only wanted to come home and read this? I was even desperate enough to check this morning when I first woke up, even though I knew it wouldn't be posted since it was 5am and I'm in Maryland and you're in Texas. ^^;; Argh, and now I've got to go make dinner, because apparently it's my turn, and I'm going to fidget through the whole meal because all I want to do is finish this!!!
I'm sure you'll hear more from me later. ^.~
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 11:08 pm (UTC)fantastic miss grant that's all i can say!
and then the part when ron is telling draco to say those things to hermione....omg
i teared when he died. for real! omg!! i can't wait to get back home and finish!!!
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 11:29 pm (UTC)I don't think you've linked to this post at the bottom of Chapter 29 yet. Thought you might want to know.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-02 11:32 pm (UTC)I'm actually afraid to read it because if I do then it means that this is all over. No bouncing ym way through work on Wednesdays in aticipation of coming home and reading this, no more ooing and ahing over Draco (yes I had a couple of fan girl moments with him)
~sighs~
~Alright, copys, pastes, saves and runs off to run her errands so she can sit down and read this all in one go~
~eyes travel upwards~
No I will not read yet. I'm off, I shall comment again later
ITS HERE ITS HERE ITS HERE :D
no subject
Date: 2005-11-03 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-03 02:04 am (UTC)For a job very well done!
chapter 30 part 1
Date: 2005-11-03 02:06 am (UTC)C. Dumbledore
no subject
Date: 2005-11-03 02:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-03 02:25 am (UTC)*SQUEE*
It.... is... so... GOOD...
I need to re-read this over again from LMH all the way to the end.
I can't believe its over, the bitter-sweet taste :(
no subject
Date: 2005-11-03 02:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-03 03:14 am (UTC)also, i loved this: Draco rolled his eyes, and then punched him squarely across the jaw. god, that is SO draco.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-03 07:56 am (UTC)That's where I just left off. I so want to read the rest, but I'm dead tired and will have to finish it tomorrow! This is great so far though; I'm totally loving it, but I can believe it's over!
no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 07:42 am (UTC)I don’t think it’s good to violate the prophecy and make Draco kill Voldie. It makes all Harry Potter Series senseless.
I think it’d be good to make reader cry the moment they are reading the scene where Draco tells Hermione Ron’s words. I’d have liked to cry there, but it was not powerful enough. Maybe you’d like to rewrite it.
Still, I don’t like your Draco and don’t think that he deserves Harry. Tell me, will Harry and Draco live happily ever after to the end of their days?
Best regards,
FSR
no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 05:27 pm (UTC)However, this sort of comment serves no purpose. It isn't even constructive; it's just obnoxious and condescending, not unlike your earlier comments in which you called the main character of my fic a "pathetic slut". You and I seem to have very different ideas about fan fiction, so perhaps it's best if we agree to disagree and not communicate on the topic further.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 11:34 am (UTC)As i've mentioned in one of my previous reviews, I found some themes in LMH somewhat disturbing - I'm simply not much fod of reading about characters having very casual sex with whoever steps by - I don't like such behaviour in RL, nor in fiction. But in your case, you were making a point. You didn't show it as actually bringing happiness to the characters - sometimes it had such an empty feel to it. There was something Draco lacked that he found in a relationship.
Still, I absolutely adore your style and characterisation, and that is why I do not shy away from matters I'd normally not care to read about. I simply found the story too good to leave.
In this chapter (or maybe the previous) there were several things I liked - the 'bad feelings' comment - yay, SW! And the Malfoy family dynamics - my view of them seems to be quite similar to yours. Right now even I am writing a story about Lucius after Narcissa'a death and Draco's disappearance.
I really like your Ron and your Hermione - and I like how you don't make Draco an ideal character. He has flaws, like anyone.
Terrific writing, and thank you for that.
Greetings from Poland,
Novinha
The Dark Lord dropped his wand
Date: 2005-12-28 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-09 04:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-23 06:38 am (UTC)Lol. Funny nurse. He really does have no room for demands.