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The Art of Shadow Boxing	By : Tommy-Lane Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11212 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any charactors from the books and I am not making any money off of this

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
                                                                                                                     Chapter 23
                                                                                            Pulling Puzzles Apart

"Harry!" My feet slip, my heels flying out in front of me as I slide down the hill, Harry's raven hair dancing in and out of the white landscape before me.

The air vibrates with another splintering curse, my head ducking just in time to miss the bright shots of red. I curse, my back smacking into the ground as I scramble for purchase on the slippery slope. There's confusion all around, a mess of Death Eaters and the near constant pop, pop of Order members and others on the side of the light appearing around every tree - peppering the forest with an array of dark colors and bright bursts of magic.

How the fuck did they all get here?

It's like there was a damn invitation, proclaiming the ending battle happening here and now in fucking Albania. Just no one seemed fit to tell any of us, if they had, well then - perhaps Harry and I wouldn't have been taken by surprise with our pants around our ankles so to speak. Not exactly the way you want to enter a battle - stumbling around for your clothes that your boyfriend had vanished and had to quickly call back while he was trying to get dressed himself.

"Damn it Harry, stop!" I shout, feeling my leg catch painfully on a branch, slashing through my jeans and skin alike as I stumble to my feet and take off at a run after him.

He's not thinking straight. I can tell he's not, he's running blindly, sprinting head long into his confrontation with the Dark Lord. And I know it's inevitable, that Harry is going to have to face off with him to end this but still...he needs to stop, he needs to breathe, we need to strategize. Neutralize any unnecessary threats before he bursts into the goddamn center of the Death Eaters.

That's a fast and sure way to meet his death.

Grasping a trunk of a tree and swinging myself down a little ledge I knock right into a faceless witch in the black robes and skull masks that are the things of my nightmares. I curse as we both scramble for balance, my hand grasping my wand and flourishing it in mindless flicks and twists, words falling from my mouth on instinct until she's shooting backwards, her back cracking into a nearby tree with a thunk that snaps her neck back.

Without a spared glance in her direction I whip around and take up my run again, looking left and right, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of Harry's stormy head. "Shit." I curse, panic gripping my heart as all I see for miles is snow and trees and faces of countless others - but never him.
I've lost him. Oh god I've bloody lost him, I...

What the hell?

It feels something akin to smacking into an invisible wall, all the air forced out of my lungs on a long exhale as I stare through the trees and up. I blink and it's still there, a starry, nearly transparent orb hovering in the air several yards away, just barely visible at this distance. But what's inside is unmistakable, I would know her anywhere, the green tinted skin of the Dark Lords beloved pet, Nagini. The shudder that passes along my spine is instant, a fear coiling in my body at just the little glimpse of the suspended snake held captive in the pearly orb.

Merlin I hate that snake.

But there's something off, something strange about her position. She's normally at the Dark Lords feet, killing her fill more swiftly and deadly then any of his followers could hope to achieve. Devouring her victims, feeding on their shrieks, and stretching her enormous belly around their lifeless bodies. There's a spark of green and red, a shower of magic bouncing off the shimmering orb and it all clicks into place. "It's protective." I mutter, thinking quickly.

The Dark Lord loves nothing, he likes his snake, but he loves nothing. He would never waste his energy on something unless it benefited him greatly in some way.

Bloody hell, we miscalculated.

It was a stupid oversight but now it seems so glaringly obvious. It's the bloody snake, we need to kill her. SHE is the last horcrux. Not the diadem. Which means...

"Harry." I whisper, fear and urgency seizing me anew as I burst forward, ducking curses and firing my own while never ceasing my roving eye. I need to get to him before he finds the Dark Lord, before he tries to kill him and finds out too late his enemy has not yet been made mortal. I'm so busy in my searching, I barely notice the wizard to my left, the pain stringing up through my legs and making my knees crash into the ground barely registering as I struggle against the hex.

Jerking through the magic that's trying to keep me down, I stagger and point my wand, the tip wavering in a mimic of my feet and I can't lock onto the man whose barely visible face is transforming into a malicious grin.

"Draco Malfoy, the others will be so disappointed I got to you first." The voice terribly familiar in its snippy drawl, a voice that’s been a part of my childhood and adolescence alike.

The beginning of the killing curse is on his lips, I'm sure it is, it forms a strange curve of the mouth and tongue and sparks a horrible glint in the casters eye every time. I've seen it before. I always used to look away from it, finding it disconcerting to stare into a man’s face as he committed murder, to watch the spark that lights and dies, dulling the eyes a little more each time. But I can't look away this time as I try to force my hand still while at the same time trying to fling myself out of harm’s way.

Neither work.

But with a roar from behind me, the sound of which I swore I'd never hear, the wizard is shrieking and clutching his side, stumbling for a moment before he goes stiff as a board and falls hard to the ground.

I twist around as use of my body comes back under my control, my eyes widening as a hand clasps around my arm and practically hauls me to my feet. "Longbott-oompph." I begin, trying to figure out if the figure of Neville Longbottom is really standing before me with a grin and a sweaty forehead when there's a sudden mass of blond hair in my face and arms warped tightly around me.

She smells like three different perfume bottles exploded all over her.

"Draco, you're looking unwell." Luna Lovegood pulls back from me, somehow still wearing her misty smile and glazed expression even with a pool of blood on the corner of her mouth. "Your aura is looking a bit sickly."

"How-?" I still my madly beating heart as best I can while staring at the most unlikely couple you'd ever expect to meet in the middle of this forest.

"Came with the Order. Didn't think we'd miss it did you?" Longbottom raises his arm and sends a curse flying over my head as I try to connect the unspoken parts of his explanation. "Seems we made it just in time."

"Right...look." I mutter, keeping Nagini in the corner of my eye and pointing over at her. "I have to find Harry but the snake, it's really important, I need you to -"

"Kill it?" He supplies for me with a savage grin.

"Yes but there's more to it, where's Granger? Damn it, just find her and then-"

"Kill the snake. Right, got it, make it good and dead." He interrupts me again and I frown, barely managing to keep my feet from running away on my mission. But finding Harry will accomplish nothing if the snake doesn’t die.

"First you have to get it out of the protective cage and then -"

"Kill it." Longbottom bounces on his heels, looking positively giddy. Good lord, war apparently is doing him some good. "Seriously I got it, just go find Harry." And with that he and Lovegood are running off...in the opposite direction of the snake.

Fuck.

But I don't have time to think on it, instead I place my trust in the capabilities of Gryffindor’s most famously nervous and useless member and Ravenclaw’s most mental, before turning and pounding through the snow once more. With a sudden dawning of enlightenment, I shift my direction just slightly, unsure why I didn't think of it before.

The Dark Lord won't be too far from Nagini, if I skirt her radius, I should find him - hopefully running into Harry before the black haired boy faces off with him.

I just hope I get there in time.

I swallow nervously and press onward, ignoring the burn in my lungs and the fire in my leg, flinging out curses, swerving out of others paths and keeping one eye out on a constant search for Harry. The trek takes too long, barely missing sudden appearances of trees and doing my best to avoid any conflict that will take too long, but then I'm standing on the bank of a river, my chest heaving, sucking in the frigid air - and there he is.

Harry's on the other side, his feet planted, his back straight with shoulders held taunt, his wand held out in front of him. He's facing the Dark Lord, neither of them moving, just staring at each other, talking.

But I can't hear what the their saying, or rather what the Dark Lord is saying because Harry is unnaturally still and I'm sure if I could see his face that it would be clenched into a firm set glare. Silence on Harry can only mean one thing.

With a quick glance over to the left and upward, I see Nagini's cage still hanging in the air, the snake unharmed. But there's a stream of blue spreading upwards towards it and I can only hope that it's Longbottom - that he's figured out a way to get her down, hopefully with Granger or Weasley at his side. Resolving to leave it to them, there's nothing I can do from over here anyway and keeping Harry alive is of the highest priority, I swing my gaze back to the standoff on the opposite shore.

They haven't moved.

I can't decide if that's good or bad. Either way I need to get to them and quickly. Looking up and down the river, searching for a way across, my hopes get smashed to the ground as all I see is thin, frozen water stretching for as far as I can see - no break in its winding presence, not even a damn fallen tree to shimmy over.

Looking up at the surrounding trees, I briefly consider felling one to make a bridge but quickly push the thought aside. There's no guarantee it will work and there's a high probability that it will draw Harry's attention, if only for a second, giving the Dark Lord a chance to gain the upper hand. And I’m too wound up and jittery to Apparate, I know myself, I could very well end up under the ice, too far away, or right in the middle of them. It’s too risky.

That leaves...

I eye the frozen expanse dubiously, the ice so thin in places I can see the water sitting cold and threatening underneath, just waiting to crack. But there's no other choice. With a deep, calming breath I cast a quick lightening charm on myself, hoping it will be enough, and place a tentative foot on the ice.

It creaks.

"Just bloody hold you damn river." I grumble, giving myself all but a moment to collect myself before shifting my entire weight onto my forward foot and sliding my other boot onto the ice.

It's terribly slippery and I find my feet sliding out and forward nearly as much as I manage to take a proper step, the journey is slow going but at least the ice is holding. I'm over halfway across when my footing gives, my body slipping back as the ice creaks and SHIFTS. Wobbling beneath me and then with a loud, deafening crack in my ears, it shatters under my feet - a gasp of air filling my lungs seconds before I'm plunging downward.

It shocks my system immediately, the rushing ice cold water surging past me as I sink, everything inside me freezing and refusing to move - my heart unnaturally still in my chest.

I see the frozen water above me, glittering in the blue rays and reflection of the light beyond, I see the crack I fell through, hundreds of tiny sparkling shards of ice. My wand is still wrapped in my stiff jointed fingers, the hood of my jacket lifting to float about my head, blinking out the light above me to cast me in darkness.

I panic.

The shifting of light, there and gone, there and gone, grips me with fear tighter then the icy water and potential of drowning had moments ago. It lights a spark in my mind to MOVE. My legs kick out under me, my heavy arms, laden down with my thick jacket moving in downward pushes as the need for air stings my lungs.

I'm moving too slowly, my body sinking faster than I can kick upwards, my frozen limbs refusing to move fast enough in the arctic water. All ability to think clearly is slowly blinking from existence and with one last desperate effort, I straighten my arm, pointing my wand to the light beyond and shout through a choking flood of water, "ASCENDIO!"

Magic propels me upward, my head crashing through a thick layer of ice, cutting across my cheeks with tiny, razor thin slices, my arms flying out to connect with the sodden ground before me. I grip and HOLD as the weight of my drenched body threatens to slip back under again - gasping in air and resting my cheek against the snow and winding roots.

I feel lightheaded and dizzy, a violent shiver raking through me as I try to replenish my body with oxygen. But the longer I lay against the bank, shaking with most my body still under water, it only gets worse not better. Remembering that I have precious few minutes, I may already be too late, I grit my teeth and pull - dragging myself up and out of the water and onto the river’s edge.

Getting to my feet is harder then I imagined and I stumble a few steps before I regain my balance, shrugging out of my jacket that feels like I'm wearing a blanket of ice - and after trying to cast enough warming and drying charms on myself, the cold still not leaving my bones, I quickly kick my boots with their own little lake inside off as well, seeing as their only making it more difficult for me to move around.

I feel like a popsicle, standing in my socks and soaked trousers, my shirt clinging like a second skin to my body, my hair alternately dripping in my face and freezing into little icicles.

It will be miracle if I don't keel over from hypothermia now.

There's a cry that has my head snapping up and my feet running, my heart stopping as Harry's body crumbles before me, hitting the ground with a muted thud, his hand with his wand falling boneless by his head. I blink and shake my head and blink again but the vision never changes, he's still on the ground, unmoving, and I feel something shatter inside me.

Something that feels shockingly like my heart.

"Harry!" I shriek, picking up my pace and stumbling as I force my frozen self at such a speed. But he can't be dead. He can't. He doesn't die. He wins. He lives. He has to live!

I'm nearly close enough to reach out and touch him, his vibrant eyes closed, lashes dusting his too pale face, when there's a crackle in the air and I feel myself flying backwards.

"Oh isn't this fun? Little Draco running to his poor dead master." Bella's voice rings in my ears even before I can readjust my vision to see her looming above me - twirling her long wand in her hand, her thick curly hair obscuring her crazed face. "Picked the wrong side, didn't you, you little blood traitor."

Flinging up to my feet, I shake my head, trying to displace what feels like long threads of ice curling through me, Bella's voice repeating 'dead' over and over again in my brain.

"Oh dear." Bella grins with a tsk. "Is ittle Draco distraught?"

Forcing myself to stare straight ahead at her and not over at Harry's prone form, I clench my wand. "I'm not a traitor and he's not my master."

Bella laughs. "But he is, but he is! You simply traded one for the other, you poor delusional boy, and what a despicable trade it was."

It's a split second decision, the curse forming on my lips as she laughs her crackling laugh and pouts a protruding lip, "Sectumsempra!" I scream, wanting to see blood coloring her black dress, to see it flow across her flesh, to prove her humanity.
I feel dark in this moment, frozen not just in mind and body but in spirit.

Her shield charm is fast, cutting away the most powerful portions of my spell as her body simultaneously twists - her voice shrieking with rage as three long, deep cuts form not on her chest as intended but along her arm.

"You little shit!" She hollers, flinging curses at me and battling my own away as we move across the snowcapped ground. "Filthy blood traitor, you've spoiled yourself, you're nothing now!" She's snapping with rage and I feel myself meeting her on that level, a thumping in my chest that seems to pound with her cracking spells and growing with my bursting magic.

Then there's a movement in the corner of my eye and feeling as if I've been plunged under the ice once more, I see Harry twitching on the ground - his arm lifting only to fall back down. I can’t take my eye’s eyes off him – willing him to move again, to get up – as I shout whatever curses come to mind until Bella is bursting backwards, the action happening in slow motion as I feel my own body light with a fire as her spell hits me in the same moment.

There's something tearing inside me. Ripping down my center, forcing me to cough violently, shuddering as my hands and knees find themselves against the ground, the snow sprinkling with specks of crimson with each couch. Pressing a hand against my stomach when the convulsions lesson just a fraction, I roll to my feet, spitting blood out of my mouth as I fix my sights on Harry once more.

He's getting to his feet.

He's alive and he's standing!

The Dark Lord lets a cry of rage, spewing sickening words from his slicked skinned mouth. Wrapping both arms around my middle as if the movement will keep my insides from exploding like they seem bent on doing, I franticly look back towards where Nagini has been hovering in the air.

The orb isn't there. The sky is empty and I let out a laugh of pure relief, the sound quickly turning into another violent bout of coughing. Bloody Longbottom, I can only hope he's also managed to kill her. Have to believe he has because it's just the three of us in the vicinity now, Bella unconscious on the ground a few feet away.

My vision swims as I try to stay standing, only to find myself suddenly back on the ground, a gray and blue sky spreading out before me. It's rather beautiful. No darkness. No shadows. It's light.

All I can see is light and Harry will win and live. With a numbing warmth spreading through my toes, I watch the snowflakes fall towards me, swirling down from with white clouds that seem so perfect - too perfect to worry about the fact that numbness isn’t a good thing, that not feeling my toes and feet and nearly my whole leg is rather bad.
There's a shout that sounds vaguely like Harry and then there's a warmth on my arm, tugging at me, obscuring my light.

"Draco, come on, get up." Harry barks in my ear and I feel a solidness against my back as another burst of coughing rakes through me. His hand grasps mine, forcing my sluggish arm out sharply as I sag against his chest. "Hold on." He whispers to me before he's screaming out, command evident in his tone, magic buzzing off and around him, wrapping around me in a grateful heat.

I sink in it, trying to stay conscious as something long and thin flies towards us, colliding with our joined hands. Then in a flurry of movement I find my own wand yanked away from my weak grasp as I struggle to follow just what the hell he's doing. But it doesn't really matter because a second later there's a burst of green light as Harry shouts the killing curse and I close my eyes with my head on his shoulder - unwilling to see the spark leave his eyes.

There's a sound that can only be made when a soul is being ripped from this world, a sound that's deep and piercing and angry and fearful. It fills the wood for a moment before it's gone and all that's left is Harry's harsh panting at my back and my own shallow rasping.

It's over.

Harry drops my hand and turns me in his arms, crushing me to him and dragging a hand through my icy hair. "We did it." He whispers with a shaking that seems to be releasing years of pent up emotions and energy.

"You did it." I correct softly.

He laughs breathlessly, shaking his head before he presses a light kiss to my frozen lips that are no doubt a strange shade of blue by now. He pulls back with a frown, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip, the finger coming away red. "What happened?" He asks, seeming to notice my sodden and icicle state for the first time

"Had a run in with a river." I grumble, turning into his warmth and closing my eyes. Sleep sounds good. Sleep sounds...perfect. “I won.”

"Draco, no, don't go to sleep." He shakes me a little and I groan with the pain it causes me.

"Sleep." I murmur, finding the more I let myself be pulled down, the brighter everything gets. “‘S bright." I smile.

"God you're stubborn. Don't you dare, you hear me?" He sounds a bit panicked, the joyful breathlessness from moments ago vanished into thin air. "I will bring you back just to kill you again if you die on me now." He growls.

I let out a little laugh. "Gryffindor’s."

"Yeah, you rant about Gryffindor’s okay, rant until you’re huffing and glaring and all indignant." He pauses, pressing a hand to my cheek. "You need a Healer. I'm gunna...got to find...wait here yeah?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"No sleeping." He commands and I nod again. "I mean it Draco, you have to stay awake."

"Now who’s being stubborn?" I try to smile but it only brings on another bout of coughing, Harry frowning deeply at me and squeezing me tighter. "Just go."

He nods, looking plainly worried and unwilling to let go of me. Pressing a kiss to my forehead he lowers me to the ground, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over me, his hand flicking until there's a warmth spreading under and over me. "I'll be right back and no-"

"Sleeping." I finish tiredly.

"Right." He smiles and with one last long look where he abuses his bottom lip rather harshly, he turns around and runs away, shouting, "Don't move!"

"Not likely I even could." I grumble, letting my eyes slip shut as I huddle down into Harry's jacket. It smells like him, it's warm like him, and I do my best to stay away from the light that's beckoning me.

"Draco."

My eyes snap back open at my hissed name to find Bella, bleeding and looking like she's completely lost all hold of reality, looming over me. With a twisted smile she grabs me before I can even blink and with a lurch, I find myself hurling through space, towards an unknown that can't possibly hold anything good.

****

Avoidance can only drag you through the gutter.

Lying to yourself can only work on a shallow level.
Denial can only last for so long.

Speaking the words, for the first time, is like coming up for air, gasping for a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding for so many years. It's a putrid, rotting, monstrous admission that leaves me sick even as my lungs fill fully. But part of my worst fear just happened and there's something liberating in it, perhaps it's because there isn't much farther to fall, perhaps it's because Harry will be forced to acknowledge the corrupt, twisted version of my soul now.

I am bound with his enemy, threaded through with the man who took everything from him, I'm one with the monster that he lived to slay. And now he'll be torn once more. Torn between wanting to save me and eradicating the demented Dark Lord from existence once and for all.

Safiya's black smeared hand is gripping my jaw, forcing me to face Harry as she chuckles darkly. "Good boy." She all but coos in my ear. "Admission is the first step after all." She taunts. "Now don't stop, tell him all of it. Tell him about the darkness that's eating you up inside, that's raging for freedom. Let him see just how filthy you truly are."

"Draco." Harry says quietly, ignoring the Madame and staring straight into me as I try to flit away from his gaze. But he doesn't look horrified or disgusted or even surprised. He looks sad, worried, and desperate - which is somehow worse.

"I don't think he believes you. Perhaps we'll need to convince him dear." Safiya mutters and my blood runs cold.

"Look at me love." He says, without so much as a twitch in Safiya's direction, his voice so soft and tender it makes my heart squeeze painfully. Leave it to him to try and save me when he should be slaughtering me as quick as he can.

"How sweet Mr. Potter. Still so keen on keeping him for yourself, even after hearing that he's nothing more than a vessel for our Lord."

"You're not a vessel." He address me, Safiya's fingers twitching on my jaw - oh how she hates being ignored. "Voldemort is dead. He's not coming back."

"But he is. You see it was Mr. Malfoy here who helped us see it. It was Bellatrix, was it not dear, who slipped into your memories, plucking through your scandalous affair and finding your hidden treasure." She asks as I stare at Harry's earlobe. "Go on, tell him about the diadem."

That gets Harry's attention, the mention of the rare horcrux snapping his focus over to her for the first time since I spoke my awful secret. I can see the turmoil rise in him, can see him think back to how I had collapsed under its presence, to how I almost didn't make it through. To the anger and isolation and rejection I cast myself in from the moment I had my barring’s back. I know he remembers how I cringed from his touch, I know he's recalling how I wouldn't let him near until he forced himself on me, breaking through my barriers.

I wonder if it's all making it click into place for him, if he's finally now just realizing the depth of my deception.

"You couldn't stop it, could you Mr. Potter?" Safiya speaks, unwilling to wait for me to answer, or maybe she just likes to cast the words herself, drenching it all in drama. "You were weak in the face of the Dark Lords soul and you let it touch him, you let it ensnare him, and overtake him."

"Wasn't his doing." I state at the same moment Harry breaths a soft 'no'.

"But it was. You relied on Mr. Potter to save you, just like he saves everyone. But he didn't, he let you down, and you've been drowning ever since."

I feel a spark of anger, a surge of protectiveness, needing to make sure Harry knows this isn't his fault - Merlin know he carries around enough guilt. "I can't be drowning and burning all at once." I spit, remembering how she stated that she was waiting for me to catch fire.

"You and I both know far more unusual things have happened." She remarks, letting go of my face and straightening her back. "It’s the drowning that's made the fire burn so bright if you will."

"You're not a horcrux." Harry states firmly and in a split second decision I let my eyes meet his - his pupils are dilated, darkness creeping through the green, a picture of strength and resolution. He's not going to let me go, he's not going to believe, his foot sliding dangerously close to the circle's outline as he holds my gaze trapped in his. "You're my heart." He says so very lowly, his hand reaching up to press over his chest, my ring on his finger catching the faint light of the room. "I know that wretched bit of soul tried to kill you or overtake you or whatever. But it didn't. Draco...it didn't. Voldemort is dead. He's fucking dead and you are...you, just you." He pleads with me and god do I want him to be right.

But at the moment I can't tell left from right, just like I haven't been able to for years, ever since Bella first planted the idea in my head. Before she spoke those horrible words the darkness inside me was a nameless, faceless evil but not a ticking bomb of doom. I feel like I can't separate fact from fiction, like there's a truth somewhere but it's obscured by layers and layers and layers of lies and false memories and pain. I only know four things.

First, that after the encounter with the diadem that I've been filled with an alien darkness.

Second, that it's still inside me, waiting but silent, clouding my judgment at times and eerily still at others.

Third, that after my time with Bella that I've truly embraced the horrific fact that I'm a horcrux in a sense. That the there's a piece of his soul inside me, that he can be pulled out from the wreckage of my soul if it's broken in just the right way, that I can bring back Harry's misery.

And fourth, that somehow, someway, for some completely daft and unexplainable reason, Harry still loves me. Which begs the question, how could he possibly if I was so infused, how could I touch him and not destroy him if his worst enemy was tainting me?

I'm either very good at pretending or something isn't quite right. Perhaps Bella got it wrong, perhaps Safiya and Alecto got it wrong. Perhaps I'm tainted but I'm nothing more than a sickness, a symptom, and not the whole disease?

But then perhaps that's just wishful thinking.

Ah and there's the circle again, round fucking robin.

"Please Draco, please believe me." Harry whispers and I swallow thickly, opening my mouth around words that I'm unsure of but that don't come out anyway. "Trust me."

"That's touching, truly touching." Safiya flicks her hair and I feel like it's all winding down, the tick tick tick about to still in its chasing time. "But this is growing repetitive, rather tedious. So let's get started shall we?" She nods to Alecto who in turn moves towards the door, my spine snapping straight and pulse speeding.

"Don't you fucking touch him." Harry bites out, his magic swelling through the air once more, bending and threatening, buzzing around the circle holding him captive.

"I do believe that you're in no position to make demands." Safiya tosses him a smile over her shoulder as she flicks her wrist and adds one last little marking to the diagram sketched out across my chest. It burns as the charcoal settles and the black stick drops from her fingers with a smug expression on her face as it falls to the floor with a thin ding. "Last chance to cooperate." She mummers to me.

I glare and set my jaw, her long suffering sigh filling the drastically still air before she straightens. "Have it your way. Alecto fetch Bellatrix won't you?"

I feel the blood drain from my face at the mention of my Aunt, a faint 'I knew it' sounding off in my head. Even so, even with my knowledge that Bella wasn't far, hearing her name uttered in accordance with what's happening is like being submerged in a tub of ice and I feel instantly nauseous, blinking in quick succession to keep the vertigo from overtaking me where I sit.

"But she's..." Harry exclaims and all I can do is shake my head.

"Dead?" Safiya fills in for him, with a wicked chuckle. "Yes, luring you here Mr. Potter was shockingly easy compared to orchestrating her escape from that horrid place. It took much longer then we were expecting but it was rather a stroke of genius in the end. Of course she's a bit...damaged now, but then hasn't she always been dear?"

"How-"

"No, no Mr. Potter, the time for questions is up. Best say your goodbyes." With one last smile, she turns on her heel and follows Alecto out the door, the thick crack of it shutting behind her sharp in the quiet room.

"Can you Disapparate?" I ask quietly, already sure of the answer but needing it verified anyway as I stare at the closed door. Who knows how long we have, seconds, minutes, hours...until my mind is no longer my own.

"Draco-"

"Can you?"

"No." He murmurs. "I can barely do anything inside this damn circle without it backfiring." He sighs and pulls at his hair, glancing down at the smeared outline.

"Whatever happens...don't let Him come back." I say quietly, fear for my own safety small and inconsequential compared to the threat of the Dark Lord returning. "They brought you here for a reason, it has to be more than just to watch, so when the opportunity comes don't hesitate just...end it."

"I won't kill you." I can hear him shifting his feet, his voice pitched with so many things I can't piece my way through them.

"I may not be me for very much longer. Don't let me be the catalyst for his return...please."

Harry's quiet for a long moment and when he finally does speak it isn't what I was expecting in the least. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried, once." I look over at him, unprepared for the sight of his despair. "Right before the battle..."

His green eyes cloud and he frowns. "You said you had something to tell me..." He says quietly, reliving those moments of intense tug a war. "You thought you were a horcrux even then?"

I shake my head. "I didn't know, I just knew it had touched me."

"That's why...that's why you tried to break it off? Because you thought you were ruined?" He closes his eyes and I wonder if he's watching the memory of our fight, of the harshness of our union. I wonder if he's disgusted at the thought of it now.

"Yes and I was right, I'm sorry Harry." I swallow thickly and glance down at his hand, drawn over and over again to the sight of the Malfoy ring on his finger. It seems almost mocking now, naming him as my heart, and then basically dragging him into this mess. "I should have forced you out the moment you showed up."

The laugh he lets out tingles through me, surprising me as I glance back up to his face. "You tried, god did you try and now it makes sense in a way. You think you're evil don't you?"

"Yes." I breathe, confessing another layer of my dirty secret.

"You think there's nothing worthy left of you?"

"Yes."

He narrows his eyes and clenches his jaw. "You hate yourself for being with me?"

I can't look at him as I nod, squeezing my eyes shut, god it's all so fucked up. "Yes."

He sucks in a loud breath, everything unearthly still around us. "Because you despise me or because you think you don't deserve it? Think you'll...ruin me?"

"It's true isn't it? Just look where we are! How is this not negatively affecting you?!" I bite out, desperate for him to see and accept it, accept it with the very core of his being so he can do what he needs when the time comes.

"You know what I think?" He asks, hard and stiff, demanding and quiet.

"Harry-"

"No, you're going to listen because apparently you haven't been listening to a damn thing I've been saying all this time." He snaps and I glance down at the circle around him - it's glowing a dark green and burnt red, that can't be a good sign. "You are not a fucking horcrux. You are not evil. You are not some damn tainted being who's going to turn me into something nasty just by touching me. You don't deserve this. You know how I know? Do you Draco?"

"No." I say, eyeing the circle that's vibrating with the pulse of his rhythm, vaguely wondering if Safiya is listening at the door. Wouldn't put it past her, she's probably finding great humor in the whole thing.

What he does next happens so fast my brain can hardly grasp onto it - there's a flash of gold in his hand, resting on the bent knuckle of his pointer finger for a second before it's flipping through the air, landing in my own palm, my fingers twisting and bending on their own to curl around the coin that looks shockingly similar to the one he gave me earlier. Then there's the horrible pull of being tugged through a tube too small to possibly fit through for all but a split second before I'm suddenly wobbling on my feet, warm arms around my back and a hot chest against my own.

"How-" I blink down into Harry's face, dizzy and unable to process how I've just crossed the distance between us and how I'm no longer bound down to the chair. "How..." I repeat, my legs nearly giving out under me as I shake with the over taxation and exhaustion of my body.

"Back then, before I killed Voldemort. Was I evil? Was I wretched and nasty? Did I infect you when you held and kissed me?" He's humming with energy and all I can do is stare open mouthed at him, my breath hitching with all the uncertainty of the moment.

Just what is he getting at? "I don't..." I shake my head.

"Was I?" He demands, shaking me a little in his grasp.

"No!" I yelp, finding it all a little hard to hold onto, not with my muddled mind and torture spent body.

"Damn fucking right!" He snaps. "And here's where your theory all falls apart because I was a bloody horcrux Draco, he made me into one the night he killed my parents. I was one nearly my whole life!"

He's deadly serious, I can tell he is, I can hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes but that doesn't make any sense. "No, then how...what?!" I don't understand what he can possibly be saying. Because how could he possibly be a horcrux and if for some insane reason he was one then why would he think the Dark Lord was dead when Harry himself was still standing? He knows how horcruxes work, we both do, the Dark Lord couldn't die until they were all destroyed. So if Harry is sure he’s dead but also sure he himself was a horcrux then....just how did he come to that conclusion?

And what did he mean by 'was'? How could he just stop being a horcrux?

It's bloody insanity!

"The day of the battle Draco, remember when I was unconscious? Remember that? We have a choice Draco, we have a choice to let the darkness win and kill us or we can destroy it and live our own damn lives!" Harry explains urgently, glancing repeatedly at the door like he's expecting it to burst open any minute, which it probably is.

But I can't be bothered by that now as I try to fully comprehend what he's telling me. He was a horcrux but now he's not. He had a choice, he made a choice, and now he's free to be just him. But how is that possible? How did that work? And could it work for me? I never thought there was any actual way to get rid of the darkness inside without losing myself to it but maybe...maybe there is. If what Harry is saying is true, then he's living proof that there is.

"So you believe me then? That I'm a horcrux?" I hear myself ask, unaware of even really thinking the question but for some reason needing to hear the answer.

He shakes his head, holding me tighter to him. "No I don't, I think Bellatrix is insane and desperate and she made you believe it. I killed Voldemort. I saw him die, watched it avidly. But maybe...there's something. I believe you that there's a darkness, that it touched you. But you need to believe that you can overcome it. I know you can."

"That's your heroic sense of obligation speaking." I murmur, trying to figure out if I believe him or not. It seems too good to be true, too hopeful in these dismal circumstances.

"No." He presses his forehead to mine and closes his eyes, breathing deeply. "You've always thought you were weaker than you really are. You saved me Draco, in more ways than one but I don't know if I can save you from this if you don't want to be rescued." He puts it so simply, so cut and dry that it forces a calm into my whirling thoughts.

Is that really what it comes down to? My own perception of myself? My own choice? Do I want to be saved or do I want to die as punishment for my sins?

"Do you?" He whispers as I lift my hands to either side of his face, the skin of my wrists red and raw and speckled with dried and wet blood. "Please say yes." He places his fingers lightly against my jaw, the touch sending little tingling sparks across my aching flesh.

"I...I don't know how."

Harry smiles tentatively as I slide my forehead up and down his in miniscule movements, seeking a contrasting feeling to the pain I've know these last few hours, or maybe days. "You fight."

A/N: Who's ready for some butt kicking? By the way I've decided I hate writing ending's, it's oddly terrifying...oh my gosh it's going to KILL me!
Delia Cerrano: So no crushing yet but Harry did get to convince Draco, which really needed to happen before they fought off those crazy women. Much more action next chapter and FINALLY the end of this scene that's taking forever but alas lots of stuff needed to happen in it.
Moonlight Vampiress: Yay another chaper of RWS  and a long review! Great night :) Haha that's how I totally pictured Harry dealing with that scene too, you summed it up perfectly. And yes Draco wasn't the smartest going to her but he's a bit addled in the head and desperate, plus he's terrified that if he doesn't end it she'll do something to Caleb and Donnie. I know I didn't touch (again) on how Harry got there, seeing as they just don't have time to talk about it now lol, but pretty much he was following him and well...you'll get a sliver of what happened next chapter. Yeah, Safiya has had this planned out for quite awhile, the conniving bitch, and Draco really should have been honest but with the timing of the last battle and then his kidnapping, well...lets just say the poor guy is rather twisted with guilt, fear, and oh so many other things. I'm finishing up the next chapter tonight but it's been kicking my butt, I keep writing and deleting and writing and deleting. Perfectionism reigns it's ugly head, hopefully it turns out well though.
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The Art of Shadow Boxing