Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter series. They belong to the great lady, J. K. Rowling. I also do not own the rights to Unorthodox Matchmakers. Those belong to Phoenix Soar. Go worship her fic.

Flying occurs in Deathly Hallows


Draco Malfoy feels like he's dying.

"Hariah Potter is dead," Lord Voldemort's amplified voice sounds throughout the halls of Hogwarts School, "She was killed as she ran away, trying to save herself while you lay down your lives for her. We bring you her body as proof that your heroine is gone."

The voice – he refuses to acknowledge that thing as his master now – goes on, calling for resistance forces to kneel before him or they would be killed. They would be part of a "new world," Voldemort called it.

"Liar," Draco whispers, sitting on one of the larger pieces of stone that had fallen into the Entrance Hall. He can see Weasley – "And that's the second time we've saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!" – and Granger – "We found it – we found it – PLEASE!" – sitting together hand in hand from where he is. Longbottom – "I told you once that I am worth twelve of you, Malfoy. Do you believe me now?" - is helping up a Ravenclaw boy that stayed behind to fight. The Weasley girl, Ginerva, - "Coward! You don't like You-Know-Who any more than we do! Stand and fight!" - is staring dumb-founded at the ceiling, taking in what the voice just said.

"Liar," Draco whispers again, and it's stronger this time. Voldemort is a liar, because Potter would have never run away. Potter had faced the Dark Lord in the Forbidden Forest and in the Third Floor corridor in her first year, saving the Philosopher's Stone from Professor Quirrell. Potter had found the Chamber of Secrets, battled a centuries old basilisk, and dragged Ginny Weasley back from its depths. Potter had faced off against a hundred Dementors to save her godfather. Potter had won the Triwizard Tournament, watched Cedric Diggory die in front of her and duelled Lord Voldemort himself to a stand still in a graveyard. Potter had founded Dumbledore's Army, entered the Department of Mysteries, and came out alive. Potter had been there, on top of the Astronomy Tower and watched as Albus Dumbledore had plummeted to the ground after Snape had killed him.

Potter had fought and fought and fought…and to say that she had run away...

…Draco decided right then and there that if he ever got his hands on Lord Voldemort (even though he was a Slytherin and she had hated him and he was a Death Eater and a son of a Death Eater and a down right coward) he would rip the Dark Lord apart with his bare hands.

People are screaming now. Longbottom is standing frozen before the Death Eaters, the Sorting Hat aflame on his head. Voldemort and the rest of the man's twisted version of a family is laughing and…

Potter is lying at his feet.

Potter is lying at his feet.

Potter is lying at his feet.

That son of a bitch!

As Draco lunges forward, chaos erupts around him. Curses and jinxes and shrieks of rage fill the air as the two sides converge on each other once more. He is running straight towards where Potter lies on the grass. He has to see her again. He has to. He needs to see her.

She's not there.

The spot where Potter once occupied is empty. Draco looks around wildly, searching for black hair and pale skin. He finds himself mirroring the calls of the Care of Magical Creatures professor, calling the Girl-Who-Lived by her nickname instead of surname, "HARRY! HARRY! WHERE'S HARRY!"

"Where is she?" Draco wonders, clawing at the earth in hopes that she will spring from the ground, "Where is she? It's not as if she can just walk off-"

And then it hits him.

"It's not as if she can just walk off…"

His mother and father appear from behind, grabbing his arms and try to pull him from the battlefield.

"…she can just walk off…"

"Draco," his mother calls softly, "Dragon, please!"

"…walk off…"

He figures it out a moment before Hogwarts erupts with cries of "She's alive!" and "Harry!" Draco whips around and sees her.

Hariah Potter stands before Lord Voldemort, long, tangled hair blowing in the wind and green eyes ablaze. She stands before the darkest wizard to ever exist since Gellert Grindelwald in 1945 looking just like the scruffy black haired girl who walked into Madam Malkin's seven years ago and at the same time looking like anything but.

But one thing can be certain: right there, Hariah Potter is the most beautiful thing Draco had ever seen in his entire life.

And Draco Malfoy feels like he's flying.