Chapter Seventeen: Voldemort



The portkey brought them to a cemetery. Rows of tombstones and statues thrust through the snow blanketing the ground, standing sentry over graves. A harsh glare was cast by the overhead sun reflecting on the pristine white snow, making it hard to see.

Beside Draco, Harry sucked in a sharp breath. The hand clutching Draco's arm trembled wildly. Harry's purchases tumbled to the snowy ground, dropped from nerveless fingers.

Draco waited not a second longer. "Petrificus totalus!"

The old wizard that had brought them to the cemetery fell to the ground, his body as stiff as a board. Draco dropped his own packages, shook off Harry's grip from his arm, hurried over to the prone wizard, and attempted to pry the portkey from his closed hand.

Harry made a strangled sound in the back of his throat at the same time Draco's head shot up. A heavy cloud of despair weighed suddenly upon Draco's mind and unbidden images of Posey Parkinson telling him of Lucius' death came to the forefront of his thoughts.

Dementors!

Four hooded, black-robed wraiths glided out from behind monolithic grave markers, circling towards Draco and Harry. Two more figures emerged: an imposing hooded wizard and a timid-looking one with a silver hand. Both of them held wands.

Draco straightened quickly, pulling his wand from his robe pocket. Without pause, he reached into Harry's robe, pulled out the Gryffindor's wand and shoved it into his hand. They didn't really need the wands, but Draco's gut told him that fact should remain a secret for now. Besides which, Harry looked like he could use all the help he could get.

"Cast the patronus spell!" Draco ordered. He faced the rapidly approaching Dementors and followed his own order. "Expecto patronum!"

Draco's ghostly green patronus formed in front of the two boys. Draco glanced at Harry. Harry was sweating profusely despite the winter cold, his features twisted in pain. Draco cursed silently. Harry would be no help.

Thankfully, Draco's patronus was strong enough to chase away the Dementors. The ghostly green Harry Potter charged after the scattering Dementors, leaving Draco and Harry alone with the two other wizards standing a short distance from them.

"Very good, young Malfoy," the hooded wizard said with a hiss to his words. "Your magic has grown strong. Stronger than your late father's, I would wager."

"Voldemort," the name dripped acidly from Draco's tongue, as he realized who the wizard was standing across from them. His fingers tightened around his wand. "You killed my father."

"And now I am going to kill you," Voldemort stated matter-of-factly. "Wormtail."

The wizard beside Voldemort, Wormtail, raised his wand. "Avada kedavra!"

"NO!!"

Harry's shout echoed in the sky as he grabbed Draco and spun. Draco stared in shock at Harry as the spell struck.

Harry's eyes, Draco noted, were the same green as the killing curse.

"Harry," Draco whispered in disbelief as Harry went limp. Draco scrambled to catch Harry, a sound of distress ripping from his throat. He didn't care that his and Harry's wands flew into Voldemort's hand.

"Potter," Draco said roughly, lowering the motionless body to the snowy ground. He yanked off his gloves, shoved Harry's red and gold scarf aside, and pressed his fingers to Harry's neck. There was no pulse. "No," Draco gasped in a reedy tone, pressing his ear to Harry's chest. It was still and silent. "Oh, Merlin. No."

Draco's throat burned as he raised his head and looked at his fallen companion. Harry's open eyes stared sightlessly into the sky.

Something inside Draco fractured into a million sharp pieces, tearing at him. His eyes blurred, but it couldn't be from tears, because Malfoys didn't cry. Besides, it was Potter. Only Potter.

Oh, Harry. No.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Harry and Draco were supposed to beat Voldemort together. They'd planned it that way. They'd worked so hard to become proficient wizards. They balanced each other, even Snape said so and Snape never lied to Draco. Draco needed Harry. How could he possibly defeat Voldemort alone?

The answer came to him like a voice out of the dark, sounding remarkably like his father. Harry's death was a way for them to work together. Draco just had to spin it to his advantage, and if it there was something Malfoys excelled at, it was spin.

White hot rage slammed into him, then, overriding his grief. His chin shot up, his icy gaze pinning Voldemort and Wormtail where they stood. Rising slowly to his feet, Draco squared his shoulders and prepared to put a stop to Voldemort, once and for all.

"Idiot Potter." Voldemort chuckled malevolently. "Dying in Malfoy's stead was such a foolish thing to do."

"He won't be dead for long," Draco sneered. "Once I get my wand from you, I'm bringing Harry back to life."

"Bring Harry Potter back to life?" Voldemort laughed. "Stupid boy. There is no counter-spell to the killing curse."

"Ha! Shows what you know," taunted Draco. "Harry's mum discovered the counter-spell and wrote it in her journals. All I need is, to say the spell word, revivicus, and Potter will be alive once more."

"Do you really believe the spell would work?" Voldemort scoffed.

"It has before," Draco stated defiantly. "It's a difficult spell, but I have cast is successfully. The key to magic is to want the results and I very much want Potter alive again."

Voldemort was silent. Draco shifted his focus to Wormtail and uttered softly, "Imperio," under his breath. The spell worked. Wormtail stiffened. Draco mentally ordered him to remain still.

Draco tensed when Voldemort raised his wand, preparing to counter any spell cast. There was the chance his plan wouldn't work, if Voldemort wasn't the type to care that there was knowledge he didn't know. But instead of aiming at Draco, Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry and exclaimed, "Revivicus!"

A scant second later, Voldemort collapsed bonelessly to the ground.

Draco looked up into the sky and smiled. "You're avenged, Father. Now, tell Potter to get his nancyboy arse back down here so that I can beat some sense into him."

A Draco's feet, Harry moaned painfully. Draco glanced down, then back up at the sky. His smile grew wider. "Thanks."

"Ungh, what happened?" Harry groaned, closing his eyes and raising a hand to his head.

Draco crouched and brushed some snow from Harry's cheek. The tattoo spider took the opportunity to flee from Draco to Harry. "You died, you great gormless git."

Harry's eyes blinked open and he stared at Draco in surprise. "I died?"

Draco nodded. "Took the curse meant for me, you did. How bloody Gryffindor of you."

"Then why am I alive? Not that I'm not grateful, but why?"

"I tricked Voldemort into casting the revivicus spell." Draco gestured towards the fallen wizard.

Harry turned his head to look. "Huh. How'd you do that? Voldemort can-- could sense lies."

"I didn't lie. I told him the truth." Draco grinned wickedly. "Only, I might have neglected to tell him about it being a life-for-a-life spell."

"Why, Draco, how Slytherin of you." Harry looked back at Draco and smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

"You owe me, Potter," Draco said, watching as the tattoo spider crawled over Harry's scar. Draco's brow furrowed as he brushed Harry's hair off his forehead to get a better look.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"You have another scar." Draco studied the lightening bolt that conjoined with the first one on Harry's forehead, one scar crossing over the other. "I guess this means you're officially the Boy Who Lived Twice."

Harry moaned plaintively. "Hooray."

Draco lightly thumped Harry on the forehead and straightened. He glanced at the petrified wizard that had brought them to the cemetery, at Voldemort, and lastly at Wormtail, who was still standing where Draco had ordered him.

Harry climbed to his feet and gasped. "Pettigrew!"

"Who?" Draco questioned, pondering on how they'd return to Hogwarts.

"Peter Pettigrew. Wormtail. The wizard who killed my parents and framed Sirius!" Harry frowned at Wormtail. "What's wrong with him?"

"I cast the imperious curse on him," Draco replied. He saw Wormtail had his wand yet, which was rather dumb of Draco to have forgotten. "Accio wand."

Wormtail's wand flew into Draco's outstretched hand. He repeated the summoning spell on the other three wands in Voldemort's possession. Pocketing three of the four, Draco handed Harry his wand.

Harry accepted the wand, stalked over to Wormtail, and promptly punched him. The wizard went down like a ton of bricks. "Bastard," Harry spat. His scarf was transfigured into a rope and he bound Wormtail with it. He then cast a sleep spell over Wormtail, which Draco thought was a bit of an overkill, but he didn't comment.

While Harry was occupied, Draco had pried the portkey from the third wizard's hand. It seemed to be only a one-way portkey, making Draco sigh discouragingly. "Hey, Potter, any clue where we are?"

"The same cemetery Voldemort brought me to last spring," Harry answered. He stomped over to Voldemort and kicked the corpse. "The same one you killed Cedric in, you bloody bastard." He kicked the corpse several more times.

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry's behavior. "How do you suppose we get back to Hogwarts?"

Harry stopped his tantrum and glanced over at Draco. "Aren't you wearing your Christmas gift from me?"

"Oh." Draco tugged the chain around his neck, pulling the medallion from under his robe. "I forgot."

Harry shook his head in amusement as he walked over to the Slytherin. "Draco, Draco, Draco. What would you do without me?"

"Let's not find out, eh?" Draco said seriously. "Today was close enough in my book and I really didn't like it."

Harry blushed, pleased, dropped his chin and smiled shyly. "I'm glad you want to keep me around."

"Don't let it go to your head, Potter," Draco said. "My motives are purely selfish. After all, who else would provide an actual challenge in Quidditch?"

Harry laughed like he believed Draco, even though they both knew it wasn't the real truth.



Chapter 18