The Scent Of Malice | drarry

forty three | wrong side of the war

a/n; this won't necessarily follow the exact canonic version of the battle of hogwarts, that would be a bit too much, but i've done my best!

***

On May the 2nd, 1998, Draco awoke to the feeling of his Mark burning even more than usual. He felt as though a magnet inside of it was pulling him frantically towards something he couldn't recognise, and evidently his parents felt the same because they were up before the sun.

"Come, Draco," his father said, the most animated Draco had ever seen him. "It's time to begin!"

Draco didn't know what exactly was beginning, but it certainly felt ominous.

"Can you feel it, Draco?" Narcissa added. The same odd evangelical light glimmered in her eyes too, and Draco felt suddenly sick. "The Dark Lord needs his servants!"

I'm not his servant, Draco thought to protest, but then he felt another invisible tug from the core of his arm, felt the serpent writhe on the surface of his skin. The Mark said otherwise.

"Isn't it too early to discharge me?" he asked weakly. "I'm not finished with my rehabilitation courses...."

His father cut him off with a short knowing laugh. "Not too early for a Malfoy," he boasted. "You're too strong for this piss, Draco. Besides, today is more important - you get to prove yourself! Isn't that glorious?"

Draco nodded, his tongue feeling like lead in his mouth. Please don't make me do anything terrible, he mentally begged his parents. Please don't make me kill somebody.

Nausea was still running high in his body, and he was terrified he'd humiliate himself and throw up on the floor at any second. He forced himself to speak as he climbed out of bed and reached for his wand. "Where are we going?"

The answer was somehow worse than anything else he'd anticipated.

"To Hogwarts, Draco! Can't you feel it? There's a war brewing."

It was all he could do not to lose consciousness right there on the floor.

***

The next time Harry saw Malfoy again, he was on the wrong side of the war.

His soul had felt restless in his body for some time, without the boy it loved. It was as though it no longer knew where to go. But suddenly there the two of them were on the battlefield. And each of them knew exactly where to go.

The Malfoys had arrived together, a powerful and intimidating trio, all identically well bred and beautiful and deadly. Malfoy looked better, Harry realised, better than he'd seen him in two years. The misery and terror was evident on his face, but under the expression he looked less gaunt, more whole.

The sky was already ablaze with the light of a thousand spells as Harry watched Malfoy cast his first, and the ground grew hot as it was scorched against and again by light from each side. Harry ducked and weaved round the deadly bolts of light, casting spell after spell of his own, and watching with horror every time anyone fell down illuminated in green, regardless of which side they were on. Death was death, he wasn't desensitised yet.

Glass shattered and rained down in handfuls as spells reverberated off the castle walls, and bricks toppled too like flying missiles. The only home Harry had ever had was being swiftly brought to his knees, and that hurt him immensely to watch. Flames licked around the edges of the battle as if walling the destruction in, and they illuminated hundreds of angry faces with a stark orange blaze.

Harry shot his spells rapidly and with little thought, unable to keep his mind off the friends who were fighting beside him, but making sure all the time to aim his spells off to the left or the right of the family 50 feet ahead of him. If Draco goes down, I'll die, he thought, I have to protect Draco-

His train of thought was broken as he was hit in the stomach with a Flipendo (a Knock-back Jinx), the force of which sent him sprawling backwards on the flagstones and his wand clattering away under hundreds of feet.

"No!" Harry moaned, scrambling to his feet, but he knew it was too late as the dark Lord advanced.

"Look me in the eyes, Potter," Voldemort crooned. "Let me watch the light leave them."

As he walked forwards, the dark wizard became the target of even more attacking spells, but his faithful servants advanced with him, laying down their lives in odd little rows behind him as they deflected the spells intended for him.

"Avada Kedavra!" the Dark Lord screamed, sending an unblockable bolt of green directly into Harry's chest.

***

Draco was bereft as he watched the killing of Harry Potter, and let out an almost inhuman wail as he watched the other boy's body crumple. Harry Potter, dead? The boy who fucking lived, dead??

"No," he croaked, "No, no, no,"

"Keep your mouth fucking shut, Draco," his father barked, digging his fingers as hard as he could into Draco's left forearm. "Don't mortify us."

The pain of the pressure against the fresh and burning Dark Mark was almost unbearable, but it was less bad than watching Potter fall, so he bit back this scream.

His mind was swimming though, unable to even comprehend the event. Memories ripples through the front of his brain; him and Harry lying in the wildflowers, the way he made the sun shine in the sky when they were together. In all the times he'd rescued him and taken him back to bed, Harry had saved more than Draco's life and he hoped he knew that. He'd saved his soul.

"Potter," he whispered, "Potter..."

His heartbreak was definitely audible.

***

As Harry drifted back to his body, the first thing he became aware of was Hagrid's firm huge hands cupping him to his vast chest, and the feeling of his sobs over Harry's head.

Stay limp, something told him in his head, you've got to pretend you're dead.

He let his head loll naturally back, let his arms bounce erratically with every step Hagrid took. He hoped it was effective.

Why hadn't the curse worked on him? That was something to work out later, he supposed, but still it bothered him.

His eyes flickered open, just a tiny crack, and instantly he met the eyes he wanted to see most in the world. Draco's eyes were blurry with tears and dismay, but they were still fixed on Harry's - and he noticed the jolt of realisation in them as they made eye contact.

Don't do anything stupid, he mentally begged his love.

He opened his eyes slowly again, and saw through the slats of his lashes the look in Malfoy's eyes, those eyes he knew better than his own. He realised with a shudder what Draco was about to do, and almost screamed for him not to.

But Harry knew better than anyone what Malfoy was capable of if he set his mind to it, and how hard he was to deter, so in the next couple of seconds he watched in a mixture of horror and awe as Malfoy tore away from his parents and launched his wand at Harry, avoiding dozens of spells as they whizzed lethally past his skull. He was a target now, a traitor in front of his Master.

"POTTER!" he screamed; Harry's reflexes kicked in and he leapt from Hagrid's arms and caught the sailing wand in his right hand.

Draco hurled himself in front of Harry's body as the world exploded with light, and the two of them crashed to the floor together in a small explosion of their own.

"Don't ever say I'm not fucking loyal," Draco hissed.

And so we ignite.

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a/n: hope that made sense, sorry if it was a confusing chapter! please vote and comment as ever,

much love

~ paradisedraco