A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Cracked Diamond

By: Aria DC al Fine

Genre: Angst/Romance/Tragedy

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Not mine

Synopsis: Don't be so sad. Someone has to play this role. I'm just playing my role. SLASH HPDM. Ignoring HBP

A/N: This may be a little angsty, since this was inspired by a French movie A Very Long Engagement. It's just so sad…and dark, I couldn't resist but write this…It's a one-shot, but if you want me to continue, I will do it very gladly.

Warning: Male/male relationship, Angst, Violence and Language Errors


The Old Wizard looked at his young student once again, sadness radiating off his dull blue eyes at the prospect of what the blonde would have to do for them all soon. "So, you still decide to be our spy after all?" Dumbledore asked with a grave, tired tone.

The seventeen-year-old boy nodded firmly, a determined expression etched on his handsome pointed face. "I do, Professor Dumbledore," he said unwaveringly.

A petite black-haired girl who was sitting on the seat next to her friend frowned, worries shining on her big dark eyes. "Are you sure, Draco? The Dark Lord is not very kind to his…toys…" Aria Elric whispered, her voice shaking.

"I'll still do it, Aria," Draco turned to his best friend since they were five, who had gone to Beauxbatons when he went to Hogwarts but were now reunited in this severe circumstance, and smiled to her, his smile small and soft but resolute.

"For him?" she asked in a small voice, her eyebrows furrowing, "even when he doesn't know that you're making this big sacrifice for him?"

"For him," he only repeated strong-mindedly, before he turned back to his Headmaster, who was still staring at him with heartbroken blue eyes.

"Very well," he said after a long bout of thick silence, "God bless you, my child," Dumbledore gave him a sad smile before turning to the girl, "How about you, Miss Elric? Would you do it too?" the old wizard was hoping that she would say no.

Aria nodded, anyway, further breaking his heart. She had not been his student, but the prospect of someone so young having to endure such tortures pained him so much, especially when she was the best friend of the said blonde. "Of course, I'll do it. If Draco does it, I'll do it as well. We'll do this together. After all, Rudolphus Lestrange cannot be worse than the Dark Lord himself," she stated and shuddered.

Dumbledore sighed, a lone tear falling out of his blue eyes, the twinkles long gone from them since the War started. "Go, my children," he nodded to them, "may God bless you all."

Draco and Aria nodded back to him before they moved to the fireplace. "You'll protect him as much as you could, won't you?" the blonde asked the old wizard.

The Headmaster nodded firmly. "I promise you, young Mr Malfoy," he swore, "you needn't worry about him. I will make sure that he is safe, in return for your big service to us. I am forever indebted to you."

The young boy only smiled softly at the old wizard before he left to the Manor via floo and faced his long dreaded initiation.


"Ah…P-please..s-st-stop…" he whimpered as the larger man rode him on the back, his large cock forced to the young blonde's bruised hole harshly, making him cry as he bleed. The Dark Lord only laughed haughtily as he pulled his toy's head by the hair, his evil grin widening with glee as he cried again, and continued to ride his slave like a bitch.

"I won't," Voldemort growled to Draco's ear as the blonde continued to sob under him, "I love your pained expression too much, it's too exquisite, really." He smirked as the young Malfoy choked in his tears. "I wonder how that Potter boy will look like when he's under me like you, eh Draco? Whimpering helplessly? After all, I have the vampires and demons supporting me now, I won't lose the battle two weeks later, hmm?" The Dark Lord continued to gloat by blubbering away his plans, showing off his powers, oblivious that his suffering sex slave was taking note of all of them.

Draco tried to remember all the things that Voldemort said in his haze, ignoring all the pain that was tearing him apart from the inside, the wounds on his back bleeding from all the whippings, his wrists, neck, chest and thighs bruised, his whole body aching from Cruciatus Curse. He had to carry on, though. He had to protect the one he loved.

Soon enough, the Dark Lord came all over him and flopped on top of him, crushing his small body, sated and satisfied. He would sleep for a while as Draco continued to open his bloodshot eyes.

After Voldemort left, Severus Snape, who had been assigned to take care of the Dark Lord's personal slave so that he could be fit and broken all over again by the next night, entered the room and took care of his favourite student's wounds, his heart breaking for having to do it again after no-one-knew-how-many-times. Draco only smiled at him before opening his mouth. "He's gotten vampires and demons on his side," the paler man said hoarsely, his throat hurting from having Voldemort's cock shoved to it just a few moments ago, "he'll attack in two weeks' time. Take this information to Dumbledore and make sure that he will protect the Shrieking Shack. Pettingrew told him about the secret passage."

The Potions Master nodded silently to him before leaving Draco to deliver this very important message to the Light. After all, it was for these information the blonde had sacrifised himself for, and he wouldn't let his godson's sacrifice go to waste.


"How do you think Snape got hold of this information so early, anyway?" Harry asked curiously as he, Ron, Hermione and many others were researching for ways to defeat vampires and developing new spells to fight demons off, "He's not even in the Inner Circle!"

"There are other spies," Ron said offhandedly as he flipped through a thick book, "they may be the ones who got it. Snape just passed it to us."

"I know Zabini is a spy," Harry continued, "but he too, like Snape, is not in the Inner Circle. So how do you think such a thing like this could be done?"

Ron shrugged and gave him an 'I don't care' look. They continued their search in silence for a while before Hermione, who had been pondering about Harry's question behind her tome, gasped. "I don't believe it."

"What?" Ron and Harry scrambled to her to find out what she had found out in the book, "have you finally found out how to make a fake sun, Hermione?" the green-eyed boy asked her.

"No, not that," she remarked to them unseeingly, her face frowning as she continued to think. "I-I just don't believe that Dumbledore would do this…"

Ron and Harry looked at each other before turning to the genius. "I afraid I don't understand what you're saying, 'Mione, you have to be more specific," said Harry.

Hermione took a deep breath before turning to the two most important persons in her life, one her boyfriend, the other her dearest friend, and began to explain, "Death Eaters aren't the only ones who are spying for the Light."

The two males frowned. "I don't get it," Ron voiced their confusions. "Who else could do it?"

"Well, when do you think anyone is liable to blurt their secrets?" Hermione shot back.

"Well…" Ron and Harry thought about it, still puzzled as to whether or not the question was related to her former shock, "When we're drunk, I suppose…" Harry tried.

The witch tapped her fingers impatiently, "Close enough, but it's not the one I'm talking about." She gave her boyfriend a pointed glare. "Ron, you of all people should know the answer!" her cheeks were turning pink.

Ron got the answer and blushed furiously. "…When we're in a post-orgasmic haze or before…to impress our partner…" he stuttered.

Harry blushed too.

"Exactly," Hermione said and sighed, and when the two boys still looked at her blankly, cheeks redder than ripe tomatoes, she shot desperately, "whores, Harry! There are whores amidst the Death Eaters who spy for us! They must be the ones to get hold of the information first!"

The black-haired boy's eyes widened in indignation as Hermione scowled. "That's why I can't believe it! It's so inhumane and cruel…just imagine!"

Suddenly, a thought crossed his head, and he opened his mouth shakily. "G-guys…" he stuttered, ignoring Hermione's pointed glare, "you know that Malfoy is Voldemort's whore, don't you?"

The brown-haired witch looked at him quickly, her mind knowing what he was thinking about. Ron, though, had an entirely different view on this. "You couldn't possibly be suggesting that the git is spying for us! That bastard must be a masochist – the fact that his much admired Dark Lord was the one to inflict pain to him just made him more ecstatic!"

Harry and Hermione only frowned at the redhead. "Don't say such mean things, Ron," she said to him before going back to her books. She was soon followed by the two boys. As they continued their research, the suggestion couldn't stop worming its way through his head, though, and Harry frowned even deeper. 'Malfoy, how are you doing now?' he shot curiously to the air before retuning to his book, positive that he was turning crazy.


A year passed. A year of pains for both Harry and Draco. They were different kinds of pains, but it was pain, all the same. The excruciating pain of having a hard cock shoved to his throat or his unprepared entrance for Draco, his pride dieing as the Dark Lord rode him inconsiderately, like he was his bitch, torturing him with Cruciatus Curse and whips and any other sex weapons known to earth. The only way he could carry on after a particularly bad night was that he would remind himself that was doing this for the one he loved, so that his beloved could live to see the end of the war. For Harry, it was the pain to see other people he cared: Professor McGonagall, Bill Weasley, Dennis Creevey, Terry Boot, or even Hagrid and Remus Lupin, dying in front of his eyes in the worst ways possible. He was so tired, too tired of explosions, of having to dodge his ways from spells and curses in the battlefield, even going as far as to protect himself with his friends' dead corpses from the merciless green flashes of Avada Kedavras, his hands dirty with mud and blood…they were too much for him they almost drove him insane.

The two of them wanted the war to stop.

And, ironically, soon enough, Voldemort would be granting their wish. As he rode his slave again one night, smirking as blood continued to drip from Draco's entrance, lubricating the sex, his hands pulling his blonde hair and torturing his pale nipples, he said gleefully, "It'll end tomorrow night, my dragon. It'll end. I'll attack Hogwarts tomorrow, wait until all the aurors and the Minister of Magic went there to help, and trap them all there. I'll use all my minions, the Dementors, the Vampires, the Demons, the werewolves, every one of them, and I shall not fail this attack again and win tomorrow night! I shall rule the world!" His laughter only died down when he came and dropped himself on top of the blonde's frail form, his crimson eyes closing to a sated sleep.

Barely registering the pains his body was subjected to, Draco quickly, but quietly wriggled his way out of the snake-faced man's body. He couldn't wait for Snape to come hours later; the Light would need every possible second to plan. So he grabbed Voldemort's wand, cast a sleeping spell to him and another spell to alert him when the Dark Lord was waking up, before he went to the window and jumped from the second floor, his body only covered by a bed sheet, running to the gates of Riddle Manor, where the anti-apparation ward ended, hid from others by the tall grasses, and used the last of his strength to apparate to the gates of Hogwarts and ran to the castle with all his might.

Unfortunately, when he was running to the Headmaster's office, he was encountered by the Gryffindor Golden Trio. Hermione and Harry were only looking at him with shocked wide eyes, but Ron put him to a halt.

"Move away, Weasley," Draco muttered desperately, his body bent as he was trying to regain his breath.

"No, I don't think I will," Ron said snidely, and pushed him, behaving like a no.1 bastard instead. The redhead looked over him from head to toe, and sneered disgustedly at him. "So, Malfoy, how do you like being the Dark Lord's whore?"

Suddenly, Draco was self-conscious of the wounds on his chest and back, some on his face, the blood that was still dripping from his bruised hole, and the fact that chunks of his hair was missing. He shied away from Ron, his grip on the skimpy sheet he had around his body tightening. "It's none of your business," he growled, his eyes looking away from Harry's gaze. Please, please don't look at me when I'm like this…

Before Ron could open his mouth and insult the blonde some more, Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was also the temporary DADA teacher, stumbled upon them and looked at Draco in horror. "Young Mr Malfoy!" he exclaimed suddenly and approached him, "why are you here? You were supposed to wait for Severus and pass the information to him-"

"There's no time!" he shouted, ignoring Ron's flabbergasted expression and Hermione's shocked but 'I knew it!' one, "You-Know-Who's attacking Hogwarts tomorrow night. He's going to use all his minions, and-"

Halfway through Draco's panic, Kingsley scooped his light body to his arms and carried him running to the Headmaster's office. "We'll talk about it more there, Mr Malfoy," he managed to huff to him before he gave the password to the Gargoyle, "I'll call for a meeting very soon."

The Auror dropped him to a chair opposite to Dumbledore's desk, the old wizard looking at him in surprise before nodding to him in grave understanding. When Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the room, demanding for an explanation, Dumbledore simply whisked them away to call the other Order members in the castle, and they obeyed, albeit a little begrudgingly. Soon enough, the office was filled to the brim, all people looking at Dumbledore, and Draco, confusedly, some throwing the son of Voldemort's right hand man a death glare. The old Hadmaster looked at the blonde inquiringly before he stood up and faced the audience, his nervousness apparent in the way he gripped the sheet even tighter.

"Right…" he started off, and took a deep breath, "The Dark Lord is going to attack Hogwarts tomorrow night. He is also going to use all his minions: Dementors, werewolves, vampires, demons…even a species of dark veela he newly acquired just recently. After the aurors and the Ministry of Magic moved to Hogwarts to help, he will trap them all here, block the floo gateways and put a ward around the castle, sealing it off from the outside world. He would then proceed to take over the harmless Ministry," he gave them all the brief outline of the plan.

The people in the room turned to each other and began to talk in a hushed panic before Dumbledore raised his voice. "Silence!" they all closed their mouths and listened attentively as the old wizard nodded to Draco. "Please continue."

The blonde nodded back, "He was going to release the veela first, so that the wizards will kill each other due to the veela's allurement. After that, he would release the others to run around rampantly. You all must prepare a great stock of anti-Veela potions and silver bullets. Don't prepare the fake sun, because the Dark Lord had done something to make them immune to it…"

"Very well," Dumbledore stood after hearing all these. "We shall take some of the advices. However, I shall want some of you to prepare yourself as well. I want to catch them unaware, and attack them before they were ready to attack us."

When the people in the room were standing up and preparing to leave and get ready, Dumbledore bent down to the young, and repeatedly broken, blonde boy and took his pointed face to his crinkled hands. "Thank you, my boy," he whispered as he hugged his student, "I am forever indebted to you…"

"Don't be," Draco only smiled as he noticed that Harry was still looking at him with curious and empathetic eyes, turning his grey eyes away from those inquiring green orbs, "you keep your promise well, Professor."

Just as Dumbledore released Draco and was about to say something, the door to the office opened, and a young girl, with only a robe and a skimpy lingerie on her body, ran through it, only stopping when she'd reached the Headmaster. "I'd just acquired the information from Rudolphus that the Death Eaters-" she began.

"Were going to attack tonight," Dumbledore finished for her and made her sit down as she looked up at him. He smiled at her. "Young Mister Malfoy had just informed me of the plan."

"Draco?" she repeated in a smaller voice, and when she found the blonde standing next to the Headmaster, smiling at her softly, her eyes watered and she wrapped her arms around him, enveloping to a tight embrace. "Oh My God, Draco!" she sobbed.

He only hugged her back tenderly and pet her long dark hair, letting the sheet fall off his body now that only Dumbledore, and the Golden Trio, was in the room aside from them. He let her cry clung to his body and cried desperately, sobs racking her whole body.

"Gods, Draco," she whimpered as she looked at him all over, "Y-you look awful…"

"Gee, Thanks," the ex-Slytherin said pointedly and chuckled when she swatted his arm lightly.

"I mean it, Draco," Aria sighed, "there are wounds all over your body…from those dratted whips and paddles and his nasty teeth, I guess, you're losing chunks of your hair…" she petted his blonde hair as she was saying this, "and…your…it's still dripping blood…How you could run all the way is beyond me. Don't you feel sore? Like being ripped from inside out?" she asked grimly.

Gods, it hurt. As he was standing in front of her right now, he still felt the soreness from last time, his whole body shaking and aching. He tried to ignore them when he was running there, his task more important than his being. He didn't even have the time to shake off the nasty effects of the Cruciatus Curses. Despite all these, and again, his self-consciousness as he stood in front of her, eyes still avoiding Harry's looks, he only smiled to her, a defeated smile, and she cried again, tears flooding her cheeks. "Why, Draco?" she rasped as she choked in her tears, "why must it be you? Why didn't you just run and hide? Why must you go through this?"

"Sshhh," he could only say as he cradled her head in his hands, "Don't be sad. Someone must play this role. I'm just playing this role. For us. For the future" For him he added quietly.

The two of them were content to just hold each other for a while before Draco gasped. "He's waking up," he whispered, the spell he put on Voldemort to alert him on his awake doing its job, "I must go back to warm the bastard's bed now."

He released her and bent down to retrieve the sheet. He heard a gasp from the other side of the room and shook his head. Don't look at me he thought again as he turned to his best friend for a dozen and one years. "Thanks for everything, Aria," he whispered softly and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek before turning to Dumbledore, "and thanks for keeping your promise, Professor."

"That's the least I can do for you, my son," he replied his young student and gave him a small smile, "I'll open the ward for a while so that you can apparate straight to the gate of Riddle Mansion. I am so grateful of you, Mr Malfoy."

"Just keep your promise to the end, Professor. Just keep him safe," Draco said again, and after giving Harry one last look, he smiled to the other boy for the first time, and probably the last time, in his life, and apparated. Good bye, beloved. I hope you'll be safe.

Meanwhile, as Aria was leaving the room after her best friend, Harry's mind was reeling. 'Keep him safe?' he asked himself. 'Who's Malfoy talking about? And Gods, he looked awful. Extremely awful! How could someone have done something as foul as that to an angel like him?' he allowed himself to wonder a little before he too, went out of the office to prepare himself for the largest war in his life.


When Draco arrived at his, or rather, the room where the Dark Lord was keeping him prison all these time, he found that Voldemort was extremely furious. Which was very, very bad.

"Ungrateful little bitch!" The snake-faced man yelled as he slapped his toy's cheek so hard the blonde was thrown off to the floor, "You were the one who told them, don't you?" he huffed, his crimson eyes gleaming maniacally.

Draco was scared, so very scared. His body was trembling when he moved to sit straight and cradle his blue swollen cheek, wide grey eyes watching frightfully as Voldemort pranced to him like a predator would to his prey. When the Dark Lord had gotten close enough to him, and whispered, "Legilimens", he almost forgot to shield his psyche.

By the time he tried to fight the older wizard's presence off his mind, it was almost too late. Voldemort had seen the memories, where Draco talked to Dumbledore and told Severus about the plans. Draco managed to hide the memory of the Order's last meeting with all his might though. It would be very fatal for Voldemort to find out about it.

After it was over, Draco pulling himself even further against the leg of the bed, his breathing shallow, his heart beating like it was going to poke a hole through his thin and injured chest, the Dark Lord's expression had gone beyond scary. Veins were popping off his temples when he raised his wand and pointed it at the blonde. "Crucio!" he shouted, thick vehemence dripping off his sibilant voice.

Draco screamed, and screamed, his body writhing in agonizing pain, fire burning his nerves. He screamed until he couldn't utter a sound anymore. Voldemort held the curse for thirty more minutes, a cruel grin etched on his unattractive face, before approaching the blonde, who was still twitching from the after effects of the nasty curse. He sneered down at him before once again pulling Draco's head up by his blonde hair, and said, "Now, now…whatever I will do to you, hmm," he inched his face closer to the pale boy's face.

Before Voldemort's face could be close enough to kiss him, though, Draco, who had had enough, spat to the snake-faced git's face and rasped, one eye closing in pain, "You'll die," he heaved in pain before continuing his sentence, "Harry Potter will kill you."

The Dark Lord frowned in anger and threw him to the bed, his head colliding with the headboard with a loud crash. As the blonde was nursing his bleeding head, stars appearing in front of his eyes, Voldemort pointed his wand at him again and whispered, "Norvus Illia"

Draco screamed again as pain so intense engulfed his legs, his right leg more so, splotches of black and purple appearing on the pale skin before they swelled and burst, blood dripping from each one of them. He bit his pillow to try to stop the screaming, but his legs wouldn't stop hurting and-

"Painful, isn't it?" Voldemort only grinned madly, "I've just killed the nerves in your legs so that you won't be able to walk anymore. So that you'll just stay there in the bed and be my most precious trophy until I'm bored with you."

"Y-you b-bastard," Draco breathed, tears glistening on his broken face. Voldemort growled before stalking him again predatorily. "Give up hoping, you little idiot," he hissed, his expression extremely dangerous, "that Potter boy won't safe you. He's going to die in my hands. What you have been doing is vain."

"He won't," his counterpart argued, his breaths still coming out in long, heavy gasps, face scrunching at each one of them, but still refusing to give up, "I know that he won't. He'll win because he's a better person than you."

It turned out to be the last coherent thing Draco managed to chalk up with his mouth that day, since Voldemort's fury extravagated until the bastard couldn't take it anymore. He abandoned his wand and reached for a knife, his hands shaking all the while. "You're so going to regret saying that, little bitch," he whispered in a low, treacherous voice, "I'm going to make you regret ever being born to this world."

Before Draco could even curl back against the headboard, the ugly beastly wizard had pinned his left hand to the bed and, without so much as a blink, cut the knife through the blonde's little finger, disjointing it from his hand.

Draco screamed, a long and loud, painful wail that echoed through the Mansion, making the toes of even every Death Eater curl in terror as they tried to block the sound off their ears. The blonde writhed and tried to pull his hand away, blood spurting freely from the wound, but Voldemort kept it there, and pressed to the bloody flesh harshly. Draco stopped moaning and cried out loud again, his throat choking with never-ending tears. "Stop, stop, stop, PLEASE STOP!" he pleaded, his breath frantic as black spots began to appear before his eyes.

"No," Voldemort simply said, his face breaking into a mad, sadistic maniacal grin, his blood-coloured eyes glowing with cruelty, "there is no easy punishment for those who defy me, my dragon," he whispered before plunging his knife to Draco's hand again, cutting his left ring finger off this time. "NOOOOOO!" the blonde shrieked, the earsplitting sound enough to make every Death Eater cradle their heads.

Voldemort continued to taunt Draco, pressing the cold blade to his skin, but the pale boy couldn't hear anything save for a low incoherent humming, his body numbing, his world turning to one big blur as darkness continued to threaten to steal his consciousness away…

Harry…Draco could only thought as blood continued to pour out of his flesh, spilling to the green-coloured bed sheet, giving a Christmas theme to the bed.

"My Lord," Avery bowed and said from the doorframe just as Voldemort was going to enervate his slave and cut him some more, "the Mansion is under attack. Troops of wizards, witches, giants, light veelas and various other magical creatures from the Order of the Phoenix are wreaking havoc as we're breathing, My Lord."

Voldemort gritted his teeth and dropped the knife. He picked his wand and was about to leave the room when he turned to the half-conscious blonde in the rapidly reddening bed and sneered at him. "We'll continue later, little Dragon, if you're not dead already." He gave him his last crazy laughter and disappeared through the door with his faithful follower.

Draco, though, ignored the sounds altogether and just concentrated on trying to keep himself awake. But it was so hard…and he was failing…


As Harry was making his way through black robed figures of Death Eaters, throwing some red spells here and there, he couldn't bring his mind to focus on his task. Hermione and Ron had been separated from him for long, and guilty as he may, he wasn't worried about them. No, they were perfectly capable to taking care of themselves. It was bloody dangerous, of course, Harry could get killed for not concentrating on the danger right ahead, but he just couldn't bring himself to stop thinking about the blonde who'd recently crashed back to his life.

When he'd seen Draco again at the corridors, he had been shocked to death, and that itself was already the biggest understatement of the year. His scrawny ex-nemesis was beaten blue and black, large red wounds stark contrasts on his unhealthy pale skin. His platinum blonde hair was dirty with mud and dried blood, and large patches of it were missing from his head, as though someone had pulled it too hard. And he was almost naked, with just a thin sheet covering his body, making things stir in Harry's body that wasn't supposed to stir at the sight. Nasty teeth marks were marring his neck and his thighs, blood still dripping from…that…area… It seemed to be that Voldemort wasn't very nice to his toys.

He had been delighted once he realised that Draco was spying for the Light, but at the same time he also felt a bubbling hatred towards Dumbledore for letting the blonde do such a perilous job like that. When the other boy finally caught his eyes and smiled at him after letting go of the black-haired petite girl, who Harry was sure had the same job with the blonde, only with Rudolphus Lestrange instead, Harry felt as though his heart had broken to pieces. The smile was beautiful, yet, it gave him a sense of dread so awful that he almost couldn't breathe…

"Stupefy!" Someone shouted at the black figure behind Harry, whom the green-eyed boy failed to notice. The Boy-Who-Lived turned around to find the black figure lying still on the floor, and the petite black-haired girl that was hugging Draco in Dumbledore's office, no longer in a sleeping robe but in a proper witch's robe now, taking him by the elbow and dragged him to the corner.

"Are you insane, Potter?" she chided him as they reached a safe hiding place, "Where is your mind? You could have died!"

Harry looked at her and smiled uneasily. "Thanks…Er…"

"Aria Elric," the dark-eyed girl introduced herself curtly. "Come on, we don't have much time to talk. I heard a scream just now, and I fear that it was Draco's voice…" she said as they kept on aiming spells at the Death Eaters, anti-veela potions and all sorts of other assortments keeping them safe from the magical creatures.

"The Death Eaters in the Inner Circle…" Harry trailed as they continued to watch each other's back, impressed by the seemingly-weak small girl's power of endurance.

"I took care of Rudolphus, Avery and Nott," Aria said offhandedly, her concentration fully on the black figures that were Death Eaters, "Crabbe and Goyle were done too. The only ones left are Bellatrix and the one person I will enjoy killing, Lucius Malfoy," she growled, and for a moment, Harry was afraid of her. He swore that if she ever studied in Hogwarts, she would have been in Slytherin.

As the two black-haired teens continued their ways deeper into the Mansion, Harry shot his companion a look and bit his lower lip hesitantly before he opened his mouth to ask. "Elric, about you and Dr-Malfoy…"

The boy never got to finish his question, though, as they were stopped by the one woman Harry hated most in the world. "Well, well, well," Bellatrix drawled, as she looked at them from heads to toes, "if it wasn't my favourite Boy-Who-Lived and my husband's bitch." She shot Aria a condescending glare with her cold dark eyes, and the younger girl stiffened.

"Well, hello," Aria drawled back silkily, "I'm glad to finally be able to meet the dysfunctional wife."

"What do you mean?" Bellatrix Lestrange narrowed her eyes, malice radiating off those black pools. Harry's fingers were itching around his wand.

Aria noticed what Harry was about to do and raised her hand to stop him from hexing Bellatrix. "It's of no use," she said to him softly before turning her full attention to the woman. "If you aren't dysfunctional, Bellatrix, Rudolphus wouldn't have held me so passionately and gave me the freedom to roam around Lestrange Manor. I am all that he had hoped that you would be. I am all that you have failed to be. You are dysfunctional, really. Why do you think I managed to finish Rudolphus off easily?"

Bellatrix growled, her face scrunching up menacingly. "You're just a whore," she spat, "and he's weak, that's why."

Aria smirked, an eerie gesture that could have sent Harry running if it was directed to him, "Say whatever you want to say, Bella dear, you lost to a whore. What does that make you?"

Bellatrix lost her temper. Her fingers curled around her wand and she raised it at them. "Crucio!" she hissed, her voice full of abhorrence.

Harry was about to drag Aria away from the evil light, but the lithe girl just stood in front of him. His eyes widened when the light diminished before hitting her. "W-what?" Bellatrix stammered unbelievingly, her dark eyes wide in shock as well.

"None of your spell's going to hit me, Bella," Aria stated as she pranced to the other female predatorily, "as long as you're a Lestrange, you can't hurt me. Courtesy of Rudolphus' love to me."

Bellatrix continued to stutter dumbly. Harry was about to take his revenge when Aria once again put her paler hand on his larger one and shook her head. "Leave her to me, Potter," she said resolutely, "I'm a woman. I know what is most painful for women."

The green-eyed Gryffindor wanted to protest, after all, he had held the hatred for so long, but when he saw the expression on Aria's face, suddenly he didn't want to know what the small girl was planning to do to the older woman. He guessed that she would probably be more merciless than him. So he nodded to her, and before he ran to the door at the other end of the room, Aria stopped him for a while. "Kick Lucius' arse real hard when you see him, Potter," she told him, her eyes blazing in anger and loathing before they looked at his green ones solemnly, "and stay alive no matter what. Don't throw away your life to kill the Dark Lord."

Harry nodded to her again, anyway, even when he didn't understand why she would want him to stay alive when they had barely known each other.


The Boy-Who-Lived continued to run and run and fight his way against the Death Eaters, the Dementors, and many other magical beasts. He was almost getting to the top floor when he was faced with a lone Death Eater who helped him get rid of a nasty vampire. At first, Harry thought that it was Severus, but as the figure opened his hood and his mask, the green-eyed Gryffindor gasped before narrowing his eyes in hatred and growled. "You…"

Lucius Malfoy stood tall before Harry, his long blonde manes caressing his back. Harry took a stance and pointed his wand at the older man. They were looking at each other for the longest of time, the paler male's expression calm and the boy's expression enraged, before Lucius Malfoy raised his hands up to admit his defeat and let his own wand fall to the floor.

Harry blinked and stared at the man confusedly.

"Catch me now, Potter, I surrender," Lucius sighed and sank to his knees, "bind me and hand me to the Ministry."

Positively sure that it was just a wretched plot, Harry furrowed his eyebrows and continued to hold his wand tightly. "Why?" he grunted.

"Because I deserve punishment, Potter," the blonde man said quietly, his grey eyes looking down at the floor, "I am a horrible father. I had given my son to that monster, and I regret it so much." When he looked up again, Harry was surprised to find that there were tears in Lucius' eyes. "Please, Potter, I deserve it," the proud man pleaded.

Harry understood. Silently apologising to Aria for not 'kicking Lucius' arse real hard', he cast a powerful body bind to the blonde man and contacted an auror to fetch him before he moved to the next room, but not without turning to him and said, "I'll tell him how sorry you are," a soft smile gracing his lips.

Lucius continued to cry after the Gryffindor left.


Finally, after hours and hours of tiring battles where Death Eaters and fellow wizards from the Order alike fell and died, Harry stood in front of Voldemort, Pettingrew's bruised unconscious body lying behind the Dark Lord's feet.

"Potter," Voldemort said gleefully, his crimson eyes gleaming, "We shall finish it, shan't we?"

Harry didn't say anything. He was too tired to say anything. He simply raised his wand and pointed it at the snake-faced git, the git that was torturing Draco until the blonde boy was broken.

"Avada Kedavra!" Both shouted, and once again, a connection was formed between the two brother wands.

Harry and Voldemort tried to hold their wands as long as they could, the cruel grin on the older wizard's face widening as he was winning. He didn't know that Harry was slowly inching closer to him. When they were close enough, Harry forged the connection by releasing his hold on the wand and, with one hand clutching at a dagger, he jumped to Voldemort and sunk the weapon to his heart.

As blood was spurting out of his chest, the Dark Lord stumbled to his bottom and looked up at the boy who had defeated him, his face contorting in pain and detestation. "You cheated, Potter!" he shouted as he choked on his own blood.

Harry only looked down at him detachedly and shook his head. He couldn't believe it. He was finally free. "They never said that I have to use magic to kill you," the boy commented.

"C-coward!" the red-eyed man protested, his voice sounding weaker and weaker…

"Whatever you say, Voldemort," Harry remarked coldly, "I killed you. It's finally over."

Yes, it's over He thought to himself smilingly as the Dark Lord continued to struggle futilely for a few more seconds. When Voldemort finally died, Harry bent down and closed his red eyes.

He stayed in the room for a while, feeling extremely lethargic before Aria broke through the door and after noticing that he was in the room, looked at him. "You've finally made it," she smiled at him.

Harry smiled back at her softly. "I guess I did, huh? It's finally over…"

The two teen basked in the peace for a while before suddenly Aria realised why she was there. "Draco!" she cried as she pulled Harry back up to his feet, "we have to find Draco! I'm sure he's in a bad condition now!"

That exclamation did somehow get Harry to feel some more strength to stand up. The two black-haired teenagers ran to the door behind Voldemort's dead body, yet going to the Riddle Mansion even deeper, until they were faced with a grand white double-door. Harry and Aria glanced at each other for a flash before deciding to push the door open.

What lay behind the door couldn't have shocked Harry even more. As soon as he stepped into what seemed to be the Master Bedroom, he dropped to his knees and the thick scent of blood attacked his nose. "No…" he uttered faintly, his head dizzying at the sight.

"DRACO!" Aria cried and ran to the King-sized bed, covered in green sheet which was rapidly turning red. In the middle of the duvet, an unconscious naked seventeen-year-old boy lay limply still, his skin an unhealthy shade of white, his head lolled to the side. The girl gasped as she caressed his bruised leg carefully, studying the fading black spots. "Norvus Illia…" Aria stated gravely in recognition, "the Bastard!"

Harry took a deep breath and regretted it straight away, for the scent of blood only made him dizzier. He stood up, nevertheless, and joined the girl. "He's bleeding," the Boy-Who-Lived whispered through his hand, "we must find where the blood's coming out most and do something about the wound."

Just as he said this, his eyes fell to Draco's left hand, which too, was lying lifelessly on the sheet. His green eyes widened as he saw that two slender fingers had been cut off from it and he bent down again to try to fight off the bile from rising through his throat. "H-his left h-hand…"

Aria followed his line of sight and gasped, before she quickly tried to find his pulse. "P-potter…" she choked on her sobs, "his pulses are far too faint for my liking…"

Harry straightened himself again and raised his wand. He muttered some spell to stop the blonde's left hand from bleeding before wrapping his cloak around his naked form and levitated him. "Come on," he said to his companion, who was almost hyperventilating, "we must bring him to St. Mungo as soon as possible!"

Aria followed him mutely, both praying in their hearts for the youngest Malfoy to survive. Please, God…Harry shook his head. No, he wasn't even going to think about it. Draco must live through the war.


The Healers in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Maladies weren't ecstatic when ashen-faced Harry Potter and Aria Elric appeared in the hallways and screamed for the staff to help one nastily injured Draco Malfoy. The two waited anxiously in the corridor, Aria biting her nails to nubs as Harry paced around when the operation took place, the chanting in their hearts louder than anything now. Please, God Harry sighed, all my life, I hadn't asked for anything much. Please, grant this wish and let him survive!

The operation had helped him, but the Healers still didn't know whether the blonde was ever going to wake up from the Healing Sleep or not. He had lost too much blood, treated inhumanly for too long a time, held under Cruciatus for far too frequent any normal person could take. With grave tone, the Healers had also told them that they could neither get rid of the Norvus curse off his right leg, the worse one of the two, nor rejoin his disjointed fingers back, because they had been cut off for too long. When Aria heard this, she sighed and cried some more, growling, "t-the Bastard…not only Draco won't be able to walk anymore…he's not going to be able to play piano anymore…the Bastard! If he weren't already dead, I'll mutilate him with my bare hands!"

Harry agreed. He couldn't have hated anyone more vividly in his life. He was going to make sure that Voldemort's soul would rot in hell for all eternity.

Days passed. Harry was happy when he saw that Hermione and Ron had survived the last siege in tact. After the trio was treated, they rounded on Dumbledore, who also survived the war, and pressed him on the subject of Draco Malfoy.

"Young mister Malfoy came to me at the beginning of the year and said that he was going to do it," Dumbledore closed his dull blue eyes before looking unenergetically over the round window in his office, "so I let him do it. He's our hero, Mr Malfoy is. Without him we couldn't have won the war. Who would have known that Voldemort is the type of person who blubber away his secrets when he was having sex?" the old wizard tried to joke, but no one, including himself, laughed.

The four of them continued to sit in an uncomfortable silence before Harry looked up at his Headmaster, and asked the one question he'd been dying to solve since he'd gotten hold of the information. "Why? Why did he do it?"

Dumbledore didn't answer him. He only looked at his young protégé with his dull blue eyes over his half-moon-shaped spectacles.

Meanwhile, Aria Elric was, after being interrogated by the Aurors and passed the court for being a whore-spy for the Light, the notion supported by Dumbledore, Snape and every other members of the Order, spending her every moment next to her best friend, the person she loved most on earth, wishing for him to open his beautiful grey eyes, her hand holding his right hand, which wasn't wrapped in gauze. She was only singing Panis Angelicus to him, the song they used to play together when they were small, when her wish was granted.

"A-aria…?" a small voice echoed through the walls of the room, making the black-haired girl look up at the boy lying on the hospital bed and smiled, tears threatening to steal her sight away. "Draco," she breathed, and leaned closer to him, her smile widening as she saw his silvery orbs, "It's over. We've won, Draco. It's over…"

He smiled to her as well, his hand squeezing her hand back, before he closed his eyes again, and just as Aria was going to call a Healer because she thought that he was going back to sleep, he reopened his eyes and held her hand even tighter. "Take me away, Aria," he whispered to his best friend, the second most important person for him in his life, "take me to the little house at the prairie." He smiled to her again.

The two aristocrats looked at each other for a long time before Aria nodded.


Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing nervously outside the door to Draco's ward. When they arrived at the hospital that morning, a Healer informed him that the blonde was awake. He was ecstatic at first, but now, as he was standing outside his room, a bouquet of get-well flowers in his hand, he couldn't help but feel a little anxious. Very anxious, in fact. What was he going to say to the blonde?

Hermione exchanged a look with her boyfriend before placing her hand on the handle of the door. "We better do it now, Harry," she stated, "before you could fret anymore. The faster, the better." Ron looked at him and nodded.

Harry ran his hand through his black hair again, messing it all up, before nodding as well. "All right, here goes nothing."

Hermione opened the door, and the three Gryffindors entered the ward. Harry was just going to say hello when he realised that the room was empty. He turned to the corridor again and stopped the first Healer that crossed his way. "Excuse me," he asked, a little worriedly, "why is Mr Malfoy not in his room?"

The Healer looked into her files for some time before looking up at him. "Oh, that. Mr Malfoy has just checked up this morning, as soon as he woke up. Technically, since he was as okay as we could get him to be, we released him. He left with his friend, Ms Elric, who had been staying in his ward since he was moved there."

It was getting harder for Harry to breathe. "D-do you know where he is going? Malfoy Manor, possibly?"

The woman furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't think so, Mr Potter. Malfoy Manor was confiscated by the Ministry when Mr Lucius Malfoy was sentenced to a lifelong imprisonment in Azkaban." She turned to him and gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Mr Potter, but I have no idea where Mr Malfoy and Ms Elric may be."

"Oh…" he said dejectedly before forcing a smile on his face, "thanks."

The Healer smiled back and left.

Harry's shoulders drooped. The flowers in his hand fell to the floor as he looked down, his hands cradling his head. "We didn't even get to say 'thank you'," he sobbed, tears falling down his cheeks, making Hermione and Ron cringed, especially Ron, who felt really bad for being a bastard to the blonde when he was risking his life for them. They fell silent for a while before Hermione and Ron moved to hug Harry. "Malfoy," the green-eyed man called as he lifted his face to look at the ceiling, "where are you, Malfoy?"


The two examined the little house in front of them with a large smile on their faces.

"Here we are, Draco," Aria looked down to the man who was sitting on the wheelchair she was pushing through the grasses, "our little house at the prairie." She paused before grinning even wider. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," Draco replied to her and smiled he looked up at her.

Aria then continued to push the wheelchair to the house. "The land is huge. We can use them to plant an orchard of apple trees-"

"Patches of strawberries-" the blonde added contently.

"And we can bake pies and cakes all day-" Aria suggested.

"Cook some jams…" The two went even further to their imagination.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a while before Draco looked up at his best friend again and smiled sincerely, the smile taking her breath away. "Thank you, Aria."

She choked on her silent tears before replying to him. "You're welcome, Draco."

The End

A/N: So…who wants a sequel? Tell me what you think about the story!


Aria DC al Fine