The boy in the hammock

Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Depressing, but true.

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Draco and Ron stepped out of the study into a battle zone, and began racing down hallways to try and find Harry and Hermione. The Order's carefully-crafted plans had dissolved into anarchy, with fighters on both sides attacking ferociously wherever they happened to be. Avadas were being tossed around like they were household charms.

Remus had been killed, and Tonks was out of her mind with grief. She had taken out ten Death Eaters in a blazing, sobbing fury and was currently advancing on Crabbe senior, looking possessed.

Arthur Weasley was dueling Rowle with a scary determination that few people had seen on his face before. His leg was dripping blood out of a huge gash in his thigh - Draco could swear he saw a hint of bone in the carnage.

Mad-Eye had lost a hand. He didn't seem troubled... He had staunched the bleeding somehow, wrapped up the stump, and was currently dueling two Death Eaters with a terrifying grin on his face.

Tonks had now killed eleven Death Eaters and was sobbing in a corner, screaming her lover's name.

Draco and Ron were pounding down the hallway that lead to the main ballroom. It seemed like a decent guess that Voldemort would want the battle to take place in the grandest room at the manor. If he wasn't there, well, they would have to guess again. The original plan was in ruins, after all.

The ballroom's doors were open, and the boys could hear shouting inside. With their wands out, they charged in.

Now, Draco had always been proud to be a Malfoy. The name commanded a mix of respect, fear, and power that most old wizarding families could only dream of. Particularly power, or so he had been told. He had caught glimpses of this elusive Malfoy power as a boy and during his years at school, but the true meaning was lost on him until now.

As such, nothing could have prepared him for the rush of pride he felt when he ran into the ballroom and saw his parents fighting an unfairly large crowd of Death Eaters.

Gone was the Lucius Malfoy who had gushed over Hermione like a sweet, parternal, adoring father-in-law. The man in his place was a terrifying fighter, all elegance, stature, and cold fury. He was taking down groups of Death Eaters like a king at a beheading - this was his castle, and he would slaughter the inhabitants if he so desired. His long silver hair flowed down his back, making his commanding posture and his impeccable dueling seem all the more dramatic and sinister. He was destroying them with horrifying grace, unperturbed by the growing pool of blood on the floor, caused by his wand work.

Narcissa, on the other hand, was the embodiment of ferocity. Stunningly beautiful, snarling like a panther, she was crushing Death Eaters like ants. Her spells were dark, deadly accurate, and were wiping out handfuls of her foes at once. Her victims, when compared with those of her husband, seemed to be in staggering pain for much longer before they died. Judging by the wicked smile on her face, she preferred it that way.

"Your mother is my fucking hero," said Ron, and Draco grinned as they threw themselves into the fray.

"Do you fancy my mother, Ron?" Draco said, teasingly as he knocked out a Death Eater who had some to greet them. It felt so good to be dueling again. This was going to be fun.

"Won't deny it," Ron replied, a cheeky smile on his face, destroying another Death Eater with a curse that seemed to crush the man's chest.

Ron fought like a brute, using spells that had the same effect as bashing someone's face in with a rock. Draco thought it was a very fitting style for Ron, and told him so.