Walking On Glass ∆ Drarry AU

twenty ∆ sword of gryffindor

Searing, unimaginable pain shot all throughout Sir Harry's body, as he fell down onto the grass. Barely, he was able to open his eyes and see that Draco's expression was strangely content.

But then, something seemed to change. Within mere seconds, Draco began gritting his teeth, as tears formed in his eyes.

It was a wild sight, one which made Sir Harry realize that Draco was hurting him against his will -- and he was trying and fighting back.

Suddenly, Draco's arm whipped to his side, and he stumbled back. Sir Harry lay panting on the ground, recovering, but thankful that the pain was no more.

"Avada Kedavra!" shouted Draco. But Voldemort seemingly already had a counter planned, as a spell shot out of his wand, and connected with Draco's own spell in the air. Draco's stopped the battle, as he ducked down to the ground, and moved behind the pile of armor.

And then, from out of nowhere, the Sword of Gryffindor appeared in the grass before Sir Harry. Immediately, he rushed over on his hands and knees, and gripped it's hilt tightly. A surge of power shot through him in that instant. He looked over, and saw Draco staring at him, tearfully, in awe.

Quickly, Sir Harry stood, and moved over to where Draco was kneeling on the ground.

"What should we do?" he asked, trying to sound composed.

Draco wiped his cheek, before speaking. "I don't know. We can't just continue to shout curses at each other until the sun rises! Are you alright, by the way?"

"Yeah, just a bit shaken." Sir Harry looked away, and at the row of knights. Then, he got an idea: "Hey, are any of them magic?"

"Daphne is, but she's about as good as you are. Anyway, I don't think plain magic is going to work against him."

Suddenly, a jolt of light hit the pile of armor they were hidden behind, and sent it scattering in all directions.

"Aww, having a little moment, now. Are we?" mocked Voldemort. "I don't think your daddy would like whose side you've chosen very much. Do you?"

"Who cares what my father thinks? He's dead!" Draco shouted. "And you know who's practically responsible? You! I've come to the realization that you're the one who locked him in that cell in the first place! You're the one he was afraid of! You're the one we were all afraid of!" A pause. "But you know what? I'm not afraid anymore! I can't be... Because I'm the king now, and I'm not going to let you control me like the god you think you are!"

Sir Harry was so entranced by what Draco was saying that he almost didn't notice the spell flying straight toward him, which he surprisingly managed to dodge as Draco fired a counter.

Soon, Sir Harry realized he had the so-called most powerful sword in his hands, but had absolutely no idea what to do with it. Did he just use it like he would any other sword? Probably, but it just didn't seem right. And also impossible, considering the battle would basically be long-range against short-range. He still felt like he couldn't do anything.

"Oh my Gods, use it to block the spells!" shouted Draco, still somehow maintaining enough focus to cast another spell. "It's the only way to get within stabbing range!"

Laughing slightly at Draco's choice of words, Sir Harry held the sword out in front of himself, and stood. Immediately, a spell shot his way, but he managed to block it just in time, sending it shooting off into the grass.

"Woah!" But he wasn't about to back away. No, slowly but surely he shifted forward, feeling the impact of the block of each and every spell. However, one spell in particular hit the sword so hard that it caused him to loose balance and fall back onto the ground. Clearly Voldemort knew better than to keep firing the same attacks; they'd just keep getting blocked.