From Wiltshire, With Love

Chapter 84

Potter walked next to Draco as they proceeded slowly and silently down the corridor, returning to the Great Hall where the injured were being treated and the dead bodies collected.

Neither one of them spoke. Both mulling over Severus' revelations and the tragedy they would be confronting in a few moments. The two reached the entrance of the Great Hall together, each taking a deep, steadying breath.

Potter gave him a side glance.

"Ready, Malfoy?"

He felt sorry for the git. Draco already knew who had survived and who hadn't from his side. At least, he knew of those he most cared about. Potter was in for a rude awakening.

"No."

Apprehensive of who else he would find dead, Draco turned and scanned the expanse of the room. Potter was doing the same. All the rubble and broken overturned chairs and tables had been cleared and rows of bodies, dead and injured, were laid out on the floor. Cho Chang, Pomfrey and Mary were running back and forth. Some Healers in St. Mungo's robes had arrived and were also treating the injured.

He saw people hugging, some crying in relief, others sobbing from gut wrenching loss. Draco noticed the remaining Death Eaters had their wands confiscated and were warily eyeing the patrolling Aurors. Everyone looked exhausted.

All of a sudden someone plowed into him, nearly knocking him over as an arm clamped around his torso. He looked down to see Hermione with one arm around him and the other around Potter. She was sobbing and must have lost somebody else close to her, which meant Potter did too. Everyone lost someone; family and friends.

Draco recalled the smell of burnt flesh when Tracey was caught in the safe house explosions, and the blood leaking out of Daphne's ears. His eyes filled with tears at the memories.

Reaching around, he rubbed Hermione's back as she cried, but she let go of him to cling to Potter. Draco leaned down to kiss the top of her head, nodded at the Chosen One, and walked away to find his parents.

She'd want to grieve with her friends, and he could be in Azkaban for all he knew. Hermione was safe; he'd remember the moments they shared together always. But it was time to let her go. He glanced back to see her dragging Potter around the periphery of the hall, and his heart ached from the loss of her presence. But he didn't deserve her. He was tainted and always would be. He was doing the right thing.

Steeling himself for a future without Hermione, he went to find comfort in the familiarity of his parents and friends and wandered around, pausing when he found a cluster of them crying over the dead. Pansy knelt next to Daphne's and Vince's prone bodies, sobbing and pleading, "Why did you do it?" while Theo held her.

Greg and Millie huddled next to Greg's father, who was grimacing from an injury he sustained in his leg. Millie was bleeding from her nose and knuckles. Greg glanced up, met Draco's eyes, and then looked at his feet.

Would Greg understand one day? Would he ever forgive him?

Draco stared at Vince's body, noticing how pale and bloodless his friend's thick face was. A large laceration from the Sword of Gryffindor tore across his chest, and his father lay dead next to him. Vince's mother sat by their heads, weeping silently. Entire families had been destroyed in this insane quest for pure-blood supremacy.

Draco's throat constricted as he tried to swallow his tears. Madam Crabbe had healed many of his bruises after romping across their estate grounds with Vince and Greg. And she had spoiled them rotten with cookies, cakes and other treats.

Draco looked back at Greg, unsure if his friend knew that he had been the one to kill Vince. He hadn't said anything earlier. It had been absolute chaos in those first few minutes. Even though Vince died by Draco's hand, he wanted to console his friend's mother. But it all felt wrong. He had betrayed this woman who was in his life as a child, and as he grew up. Even so, he couldn't repress the feeling that consoling her was something he should do anyway.