Circi | 2

FORTY THREE

"Strength in Numbers"

The minute an hour had passed since Voldemort's announcement, the few people by the doors to the entry hall noticed Hagrid being marched into the courtyard followed by Voldemort and his death eaters.

Slowly, those who fought for Hogwarts made their way outside to see whether or not they would have to fight again. Voldemort was not dead. Simply looking at him terrified Circi and she could see a body in Hagrid's arms. Draco came to stand beside her near the back of the crowd, his hand grabbing onto hers and his eyes trained on Hagrid.

Circi couldn't bring herself to look at the half-giant and scanned the death eaters to find her father on the front row beside Narcissa.

How many of those bodies belonged to him?

The thought made her feel sick but it was Voldemort's next words which made her almost certain she might just throw up her dinner.

"Harry Potter is dead!" There were gasps, screams, cries but, above it all, Circi could hear the breath catch in Draco's throat. She looked up at him and could see his lip trembling, tears threatening to spill, and she squeezed his hand. They would have to fight whatever was coming together because there was no way she could ever allow him to suffer alone again. "Now is the time to declare yourself to us," Voldemort continued, spreading his arm and still laughing along with his followers, "come forward and join us... or die."

Circi shuffled on her feet, feeling the stares of Lucius and Narcissa on the two of them. Draco seemed to shrink beside her.

"Draco. Circi." Lucius hissed, his voice stern as it used to be when reprimanding them. He glanced around at the death eaters nervously, extending his hand.

"Children," Narcissa said gently, nodding at them, "come."

Everyone was watching them. Circi could feel heat rising up her neck and blossoming in her head as Draco looked around him. He could feel their eyes as she did but they would never know how difficult this decision was. If there was one thing the Malfoy's valued most it was family. They both knew that.

Draco took a step forward and Circi grabbed his arm, stepping close to him.

"Don't do it," she told him with a low voice, "please, you have a choice."

He looked down at her, nearly crying. "Harry's gone," his voice cracked as he tried to whisper, "imagine if that was Mica."

She faltered at his words, just enough for him to tear free and walk across the courtyard where Voldemort commended him and allowed him to go to his parents. Circi held her breath when she met Lucius' eyes. She knew heartbreak when she saw it, and when she looked at Voldemort she recognised the murder in his gaze. Two pairs of hands landed on her shoulders and dragged her back into the crowd, shielded by bodies as Carmen pulled her further away from what was happening.

"What are you doing?" Circi hissed, trying to turn back. Draco was making a mistake. Living with them would be torture and another fight was sure to break out. Another massacre. Draco couldn't survive in this world; all he ever wanted was to survive and, right now, Circi knew that surviving at the expense of others was barely living. "He's making a mistake!"

"No," Carmen sighed, making her look up in disbelief, "he's heartbroken, couldn't you see? He can seek comfort in his mother without the threat of death." She looks at Circi, the same height in her two inch heeled boots, pity in her eyes. "You forget he's as much a child as you, even if he doesn't seem like it."

Circi pauses, they were in a corridor, able to hear one of the students give a righteous speech and she would bet everything she had that it was a Gryffindor. She approaches a window, now a floor up and able to watch what was happening.