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Author's Chapter Notes:
For MNFF's monthly challenge Number Four: A one-shot using one of the offered sentences ('Ten to one we're gone when the smoke clears. They will do everything in their power to destroy us.') Rated PG-13 for mild violence, language, and a wee bit of slashy goodness.
Oh God, we’re all gonna die. Harry stood on the front lawn of the castle and watched as thousands of Death Eaters poured in on them from everywhere around. The heavy fog would mask them for only a few minutes before it was time. We’re not ready! We’re all gonna die because we’re not ready! There just wasn’t enough time….

“Well,” Ron said, “this is it. I’ll miss you, mate.” He stuck out his hand.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he gripped Ron’s hand and shook it lightly. “It’s been fun. ‘Mione?” He turned to the girl.

“Oh Harry!” she cried as she threw her arms around his neck. “Why? Why did they have to come now? I don’t want to die!”

“Shh,” Harry soothed. He pushed her back to look at her. “You’re not going to die, hear? You’re too smart and your future has got too much promise for you to die now. You’re gonna make it. If anyone in this entire bloody school lives, it’ll be you.”

Hermione let out a soft sob as she stared at the ground.

Harry grabbed her chin and forced it upward. “Promise me, Hermione. Promise me you won’t give up.”

“I—I,” she stuttered.

“Promise me!”

“I promise,” she whispered.

“Good girl. We’re not going to die. We’re good, and good always prevails, remember?”

“Yeah,” Ron and Hermione replied solemnly.

Harry looked at his two friends, wishing with all his heart that he had more time. More time to spend playing wizard’s chess with Ron; more time to argue with Hermione about their homework; more time to have fun, be a teenager… more time to live. “I want you two to stay together, all right? Hermione, you make sure Ron casts all his spells right… we wouldn’t want him to blow himself up. Ron, you make sure she doesn’t give up.”

The two teens nodded.

Harry grabbed Ron and hugged him tight. “Don’t let her out of your sight,” he whispered. “All these years I’ve griped at you for staring at her… forget them. Don’t you let her out of your sight for one second.”

Ron nodded. “I promise.”

“I’ll see you when it’s all over,” Harry said. He lifted his hand in a farewell salute as his two best friends turned and vanished into the mist. I’ll see you when it’s over. He knew he would, what he wondered was whether they would be dead or alive. Ten to one we’re gone when the fog clears. They will do everything in their power to destroy us. And they very well just may….

He turned back to the march of Death Eaters, wondering where Draco Malfoy would be. He’s first, Harry thought. That little slime of a ferret betrayed me, and he’s going to pay for it. He’s going to be the first one to die. Harry grit his teeth and began his march forward.

* * *

Death Eater after Death Eater; evil after evil; he watched them all die, at the hands of his friends, at the hands of his classmates, at the hands of his professors, and at his own. Not one was Draco Malfoy. Not one had the slender figure, or the flowing gait, or even the silver-blonde locks that would adorn Draco’s masked head. And not one had the delicate hands. The hands of the Death Eaters Harry had already seen fall were all large, rough, and calloused. They had long, unkempt fingernails and were mostly clumsy with their wands. None had the precise elegance Draco had with a wand, or the elaborate beauty of his smooth, silky skin.

And none had his eyes. Every Death Eater Harry had seen bore angry, evil eyes, filled with malice and enmity. But Draco’s eyes held no such feeling. Draco’s eyes were pure… innocent, even, not malignant and contemptible, as the others’ were. The only emotion Harry had ever seen behind the eyes of Draco Malfoy was sorrow. And now he’d never get to see it again.

“Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!” Harry screamed. “Get out of my head! You bastard, just leave me ALONE!”

“Schizophrenia, little Potter?” drawled a deep voice behind him.

Harry whirled around to face the speaker. All he saw was a man cloaked in black and face concealed, but he guessed easily who it was, especially given the silver hair peeking from the hood.

“Lucius Malfoy,” Harry spat. “Tell me, where’s your bastard of a son? Cowering in your mansion somewhere?”

“First of all, he’s not a bastard… he knows damn well who his father is. And second, how the hell would I know? He’s on your side, the traitorous little f uck.”

“Nice try,” Harry scoffed. “Now I suppose he’s going to jump out from behind a tree and hex me, eh?” Then, to himself, “Ha! Believe a Malfoy’s on my side. Riiight.”

“Believe what you may, Potter,” Lucius laughed. “He made his choice, now he will suffer the consequences. He’s no son of mine.”

“Right, then. Can we just get this on and over with?”


“You know, you try to attack me, I counter it, then I succeed in killing you, etc., etc.”

“A bit full of ourselves, are we?”

Harry shook his head in exasperation. Who knew the end of the world would be so, well, not stressful?

Lucius pulled his wand out, as did Harry, both circling one another, waiting for the other’s attack. It was Lucius who broke the “silence”.

Harry quickly dodged his attack and countered it, knocking Lucius to the ground.

“Is that all you can do?” Lucius laughed as he stood. “Well, I overestimated you.”

“You wish,” Harry chided. “Even I know your life isn’t that easy.” Harry cast a silencing charm on his opponent, knowing full well it would do him no good in dueling with an experienced wizard.

Once Lucius recovered, he grinned from behind his mask and laughed, the ass hole actually let out an audible laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? Did you honestly think that would save you?”

Before Harry could even retort, he was on the ground, writhing from the most agonizing pain he had ever felt. He had been under the Cruciatus Curse before, but apparently he had blocked it from his memory because he didn’t remember ever feeling anything so intense. In less than ten seconds, he had already felt every one of his bones shatter and simultaneously meld themselves back together; his throat felt as though it were on fire; his eyes screamed with the piercing of a thousand needles; every breath racked and seized his trembling body.

In the back of his subconscious, he knew without a doubt in his mind that this was the end; this was how he was going to die. All the time he’d spent training and fighting, readying himself to face Voldemort was for nothing. After everything he’d put himself through to save the world, he was going to die at the hands of none other than Lucius Malfoy.

His life was wasted. He couldn’t save the world; he couldn’t even save himself. He lay there on the front grounds of his second home, shuddering and screaming at the reality of it all.

Hours went by—or so it seemed, as it had really only been a few minutes—and as he let himself slip away, all he could think of were stormy eyes—those beautiful stormy eyes; deep pools of mercury that could convey so much emotion in a single glance. He longed for just one more chance to look into those silver orbs.

He was hanging by a thread. Just a few more seconds and he could let go forever. He vaguely heard shouts and cursing from the outside world, but he was too far gone to care. It wasn’t until he felt the seizures completely abandon his body that he dared open his eyes only to realize that he was in Heaven.

An angel was staring down at him with bloodstained hair matted to his face and tears streaming down his pallid cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he was crying, “I’m so sorry! I never meant for any of this to happen—I only wanted to protect you. Please don’t leave me!” He put his hands to his face and sobbed into them, rocking back and forth on his knees. “Please!”

With as much strength as he could muster, Harry glanced over to where Lucius Malfoy lay dead on the blood soaked earth. Realization began to sink through his foggy mind as to what was happening.

The angel finally collapsed onto him, heaving his emotions out in a hoarse tone. “Why!? Why did it have to end like this? All I wanted was happiness—all I wanted was Harry…. I love him.”

Harry reached a shaking hand up to caress the cheek of the blonde angel. “I love you, too.”

Silver eyes snapped open to reveal a new emotion—hope. “You’re—but…. I was so afraid I’d lost you!” He gathered Harry’s breaking body into his arms and held him close. “Don’t ever leave me again!”

Harry struggled to stand, but failed and fell back to the ground. “Voldemort,” he gasped. He looked up into terrified eyes. “Draco, please, help.”

“Help what, Baby?”

“I have to find—kill… help me.” Every word gave him the needed strength to continue.

“You-Know—Voldemort’s dead,” Draco sighed. “You don’t need to worry about him anymore. You’re safe.”

“Wha—he’s dead? But how?”

“That son of a bitch turned you against me, and I made sure he got every last painful suffering he deserved.”

You killed Voldemort?” Harry asked, astonished.

“I didn’t kill him,” Draco replied, “I obliterated him. It broke my heart when you left me, and I destroyed every last fiber of his being for making you hate me.”

Harry’s body was recovering, and as he sat up, he could finally speak freely. “But, the last Horcrux… I haven’t found it yet.”

“You didn’t need to.” Draco’s eyes wandered to his father’s body. “It found you.”

Harry followed Draco’s gaze. “Your father? Did you—?”

Draco’s eyes dropped to the ground before him and he nodded.

One tear was all it took before Harry had grabbed Draco’s chin and pulled it upward, forcing the other boy to look at him. “Listen to me. Nothing could take me away from you. Not Voldemort, not your father, nothing. I am, have been, and will always be yours. No matter what happens we’re in this together, until the end.”

And with that, Harry brought his lips to the other boy’s, kissing him with such a passion that Draco knew every word Harry had spoken was the absolute and utmost truth.

This was right; this was the way it was supposed to be. And as the rest of the wizarding world rejoiced around them, each boy thought of nothing but the other and simultaneously wondered how such beauty could come from so much pain.


Yeah, I know it sucks... give me a break.
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