Chapter Seventeen

Thank you to AmyLouise, my amazing beta! All belongs to JKR, Scholastic, and WB...

Chapter Seventeen

Harry was waking, aware that his body was trying to rouse from a thick fog. He sputtered and coughed in a cloud of dust, instinctively clutching the back of his head, which was throbbing with pain. Where am I? What the bloody hell...

Then it all came crashing back, and he scrambled to his feet. "Ginny!" He tried to make out images through the thick dust, hoping someone could hear him over the screeching noises to his left. Slumped near him lay Hermione, unconscious on top of Draco. Thankfully, Ginny was stirring in her position against the wall.

Trying to ignore the shrill riot next to him, Harry leaped over the now demolished bench to his friends. Terrified of what was waiting, he pulled Hermione onto her back. To his immense relief, she shifted and moaned, reaching upward toward him.

Suddenly she sat up, wailing, "Draco! Draco, no..." Her body shook with sobs, and she fell into Harry. She tried not to look at Draco, but her eyes were stubbornly drawn to his sprawled, lifeless form. Even through the dust, she could see that his eyes were closed, and her chance to look into them was at a viciously abrupt end, bloodthirsty reality raging back after such a short reprieve. Within the span of a week, she had lost, loved, and lost once again. Why was she being forced to live?

Ginny made her way over, tears now spilling from her eyes, and put her arms around her friend, who had dragged herself over to lie on her side facing Draco. As Hermione stroked Draco's arm, Harry stroked Hermione's hair, having no words. If it had been Ginny...

After several minutes, Hermione seemed to remember how this had happened and bolted to her feet, brandishing her wand in the dissipating dust. "Where are you, you fucking bitch! I'll kill you! I'll fucking shred you!" She whipped around, looking for the murderer who took her love away. Harry and Ginny made absolutely no move to stop her. Instead, they jumped to her side and prepared to help her take Millicent down.

When the dust finally settled, their eyes landed on Bulstrode, and they finally registered the foreign screeching. It was something out of the worst imaginable nightmare, something just as sickening as watching Voldemort's body reform in a cauldron, just as horrifying as facing a basilisk or dementor. The screaming hysterics of three young heroes were not enough to drown out the awful noise.

Millicent was being mercilessly shredded, but not by any person. The Death Faeries were ripping her apart limb from limb, screaming with wicked glee as they devoured her to the bone, flinging bits of flesh in their wild frenzy. No one had any idea what had killed her, and although she probably deserved whatever it had been, they couldn't help but be shaken to the core by such an obscene aftermath. Hermione slumped over the bench, vomiting hard, frantic with hysteria, and Harry's curses took turns with Ginny's screams. This was something that was supposed to happen after burial, something never to be witnessed or imagined. Fate had to be sadistic to place them all in a crypt at the moment of someone's death, conveniently formulating the immediate burial.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione screamed themselves into exhaustion and dark stillness. At some point, the faeries began to slow their screams and flit away, gliding back into the night through the stone walls as if they had not just committed an unnatural atrocity which would traumatize these witnesses for the rest of their lives.

It was then that Harry realized something was completely off. "Wait..." How was Draco lying dead on the floor, completely untouched by the faeries? Where was Mrs. Malfoy? She had obviously been ignored as well, considering the lack of a skeleton.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione croaked from the bench.

Suddenly Harry started to remember. Did he make it to Draco in time after all? He had seen Draco point the wand at his heart, and he had dived with all his strength to stop him, or at least he thought that's what had happened. The bump to his head made him second-guess, but there was only one way to tell. He rushed over to Draco, shaking him, afraid to hope that he could actually be alive.

Harry nearly jumped back when Draco stirred, moving his head from side to side, trying to open his eyelids.

"Hermione! Hermione! Get over here!"

She could only manage a crawl, wondering why in bloody hell Harry wanted her to return to the source of the torn-out hole in her chest. She was dead already. Why move? Why even breathe?

"Her...m..."

Oh, that's why! "Draco! Draco! Oh, my gods!" She scrambled to him, thinking she had to be losing her mind, but begging for the voice to have been his. When she reached him, Harry backed away, smiling with welling eyes and clasping Ginny around the waist. Hermione could think of nothing to do other than to cover Draco's face with kisses, desperately trying to hold him to the mortal world.

Finally, he let out a weak chuckle, wrapping his arms around her. "What the bloody hell happened? Is this Heaven, then?"

"You're alive! I don't know how, but you're alive!" It was impossible, wasn't it? He had used the killing curse on his own heart.

He lifted his head, looking around to be sure. "Yes, I suppose I am. This eyesore is most definitely not Heaven... aside from your presence, that is," he cheekily added. She honestly looked shattered. Actually, she really looked like Hell incarnate.

Suddenly Draco realized his joy was premature. "Wait! Where is my mum? Where's Mil?"

Harry gently placed his hand on Hermione's arm, indicating that he would take this one. "Millicent is... gone. I'm not sure what happened, but when I came to, the Death Faeries were well on their way to finishing her off." Draco gagged, grabbing his temples. Harry knew the feeling. "As for your mum, she seems to have vanished. Considering that Millicent's, er, skeleton is still here and your mum's isn't, I have to assume she might possibly be okay."

At that, Draco jumped up, accidentally pushing Hermione back onto her bum. He ran for the door, scanning every inch of the room, quickly turning his head away when he saw the bones of his lost friend. There was nothing...not a trace of his mother anywhere. He ran out into the entryway...same thing. He bolted outside, searching around gravestones, running into the trees. A part of him was aware that Hermione, Ginny, and Harry were running after him, shouting for him to wait and let them help. Didn't they understand that he hadn't a second to lose?

Suddenly there was a crack behind him, and when he whipped around, his mother was standing two feet away. "Draco! Oh, Darling, you are okay!" She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him like a vise, somehow still managing to convey the deepest love.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was with her, along with two healers from St. Mungo's. Draco knew because of the uniforms. Seeing the question in her son's eyes, Narcissa began to explain. "When I awoke, I was on the floor in a storm of dust. It took some time to rise to my feet, but I almost wished I hadn't. I was overwhelmed... it was a nightmare. It was..."

Taking a calming breath, she steeled herself to finish the tale. She was a Malfoy and would maintain her composure if it killed her. "Something had been bashing around the room like a tornado."

Harry knew that made perfect sense. If he had, in fact, redirected the curse at Millicent, the faeries would have exploded into uncontrollable action at the release of their master's orders. That was probably how he and the others had all been thrown around the room, rendering them unconscious.

Narcissa continued. "Millicent Bulstrode was surrounded by a shining cloud, and you were crumpled on the floor with Hermione Granger and Harry and Ginny Potter. When I couldn't shake anyone awake, I began to panic. I grabbed the first wand I saw, but I could do nothing for Millicent. I knew I had to get help, so I Apparated straight to the Ministry. Where is Mil?" She could see the others standing awkwardly, so she began to dread what she was about to hear.

"Mum, Mil is gone."

"Oh, gods. Oh, no. That poor, poor girl," Narcissa whispered, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks.

Draco just hugged her, knowing a long story lay ahead tonight.

XXXXX

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Narcissa Malfoy, a few Aurors, Pendington's team, and the Weasleys were among those present in the St. Mungo's waiting room, everyone having decided to debrief there so the four heroes and Narcissa could be check by healers and so that everyone could remain by Ron's side. His condition hadn't changed at all, so despite all of the joy at seeing Mrs. Malfoy safely returned, the somber mood of worry yet prevailed.

After a long session of retelling and analysis, it was agreed that everyone would take a few days to rest, some to visit frequently with Ron, and then they would all join the Weasley family for Sunday breakfast during the coming weekend. Both Narcissa and Draco felt a little queasy at the idea of actually eating food at the Burrow, but they knew it would be cruel and ridiculous to air their reservations. It was high time they befriended the people who had shown them more loyalty than any Death Eater ever could. Perhaps it wouldn't be such an ordeal anyway. Molly was apparently famous among her friends for her cooking, and they had never tasted food which hadn't been prepared by house-elves.

Over the next few days, frequent owls, Patronuses, and Flooing occupied everyone's time, and it was determined that Ron would make a full recovery, aside from scarring that simply could not be completely removed. His burns had been so severe that he had suffered through several treatments which merely knitted his healthy patches of skin together over his gaping wounds. The healers had passed their wands innumerable times over the scarred areas, and they had managed to at least make his face look close to what it used to be. His hair had been fully regrown, and his leg bone was finally finished forming. The green goo, which was actually used to prevent infection, was no longer necessary. In essence, it was actually possible that Ron could be home for breakfast on Sunday. He would not be back to his old self by any means, but he would at least be safe and conscious.

Hermione had been to see Ron twice, although Draco had not accompanied her out of concern for Ron. He knew someone in the Weasel's condition should not be agitated, and it was going to take a little explaining before the carrothead could possibly understand the new relationship between his ex-wife and his former enemy. Draco still had a silly bit of fear left about a reunion, but considering the nearly constant sexual activity between him and Hermione over the last few days, he knew he was being immature. He didn't even let the slightest worried expression cross his face in front of her, wanting to show that he trusted her.

Their tea with his mum a couple of days ago had been no less than completely hilarious, Mrs. Malfoy almost visibly torn between the propriety which forced her to be completely calm and collected in her reaction to her son's new relationship and her total shock and possible dismay at the revelation. Nonetheless, she did see the advantages to the probable union, so the propriety won out in the end. Draco hoped that one day his mother's acceptance of Hermione would be sincere.