This one goes out to all my reviewers - esp. the 5 of you that always check back! *big hug* *evil grin* let the chapter begin.
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It felt like a grand piano had just been dropped on Hermione’s head. Draco was backing away from her…everything he had just said…desiring to fight on the good side…not wanting the army of bastard children…it was all a stupid lie; probably like their relationship had been. Sadness drowned her along with her disappointment. She really thought Draco could have been a good man. She really wanted him to become a good man.
Draco shut his eyes so he wouldn’t have to witness Hermione’s hurt expression. He wanted her to know he was doing this all for her. Everything he did was for her. He turned to face Voldemort when his heel hit the first of many dark stone steps. This is the only way, he told himself silently as he ascended the stairs.
“Welcome back, my son,” the Dark Lord greeted joyously with open arms. Draco scoffed and looked away. He pulled out his wand from underneath his robes, but directed it towards the ground.
“F-father,” he tried, but it sounded too eerie for him. “Sir. I believe she’s right…I can.”
Hermione looked up hopefully. What did he just say? What is he doing? He’s not going to try and kill Voldemort is he?!
“What absurdity are you talking about, Draco?” Voldemort said with a laugh. Draco looked Voldemort directly in his bright red eyes and mockingly saluted him.
“Good bye…” and with the power of his wand, Draco cast the Killing Curse upon himself, and this time, it went through. The process wasn’t painful at all. A warm wave first washed over him, making everything seem irrelevant. Then an extremely bright, and blindingly white light filled the air. The light actually seemed to be originated form his chest. He felt himself get forcefully ripped away from his dead body; his soul was finally freed from the restricted prison it was born into; it was his own, and pure again. But the strange part of dying was that he felt a “thud” after the light disappeared and he collapsed onto the ground. The last time he checked, ghosts couldn’t feel or be felt. He carefully opened his left eye, eventually followed by his right. He saw the blue sky above, and recognized the scene to be exactly where he left off. I’m not dead?! he thought amazedly. He turned his head so that his right cheek was resting on the soft dirt. He watched as Voldemort cried angrily amidst a batch of blue fire.
“Nooo! What have you done?!” Voldemort screamed with pure fury. Every member of his army burst into flames and scattered into the wind within minutes. Draco tilted his head down at Dee; she wasn’t lying very far away, if he tried, he could have touched her with his arm. She smiled warmly at him.
“You did it, Draco. You freed yourself,” she whispered happily to him, before fading away into nothing. Draco looked on with shock. He sat up as quickly as his back would allow and waved his arms frantically in the space she occupied just seconds ago…but nothing was there. He didn’t even get the chance to thank her. But his moment to grieve for Dee was cut short as a flaming Voldemort flew towards him.
“You’re going to pay for that, boy,” he hissed as he grabbed Draco by the neck and lifted him into the air.
“Go ahead, kill me,” Draco dared.
“Don’t think you’re still immortal Draco,” Voldemort replied with a shrieking laugh. “You may have figured out how to escape your destiny and become your own free soul, but you’ve also lost every ounce of power you ever possessed.”
“That’s not true,” Draco replied clearly, but with much difficulty. “I still possess the power of love, and a little bird once told me that love is the one thing you hate.”
And at that, Draco filled his mind and being with his love for Hermione, his mother, his friends, and life; Voldemort immediately released him from his death grip, his hand scarred with permanent burn marks. He started backing away, but Draco firmly grabbed him by the shoulder and placed his hand over Voldemort’s stone cold heart.
“Before you go…I just wanted to tell you, you smell like crap, try taking showers in your next life.” Then he pushed down hard and watched as Voldemort screamed with agony and turn into dust. His army down in the battlefield was long gone. Those who stayed departed after they witnessed the death of their leader. Draco couldn’t believe it. Voldemort was dead.
It was all over.
The surviving students, worn out and tired as they were, cheered and whooped at their victory. Harry took Ginny gently by the waist and pulled her into a tight embrace. They had survived; and that was all they ever asked for. People started chanting Draco’s name, but all that mattered to him was that Hermione glided up to him with a proud smile and kissed him intensely, for the first time in public. When they finally came apart, she kissed him again near his ear and whispered the words he had waited so long to hear: