Chapter Text

Dying Will

- Year 1 -

Harry, Draco, and the Crow's Tower

Chapter 1 | Lumos Asteria

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy died. And it took them a long, painful while to do so; their murderers made sure of that.

Masked  and  dark-robed strangers pressed in on them from all sides, forming a tight circle. Each mask was white and identical covering their entire face without holes for their eyes, nose or mouth. Unlike the Death Eaters, each individual did not have a unique design. 

They were a ring of faceless malice.

An abnormal stillness blanketed the alleyway, warding away non-magical folk. The masked ambush had created a shadowy dome over the alley, blotting out the mid-morning light. 

Rain pattered unevenly through the spell and onto Draco’s prone form. He lay on his side, staring into darkness and trying not to move. Because even the slightest twitch of his fingers sent flames of pain up his arms. 

Blood pooled on the ground, pouring from various cuts that the attackers had inflicted upon him. Cold seeped into his bones as the blood left his body and the warmth of late spring did little to alleviate this.

There had been no clean and quick  death from an unforgivable curse here. These assassins had meant for him to suffer. The least Draco felt he could do is not to give them the pleasure of his crying out in pain. 

A cough in front of him focused his eyes. Though he couldn’t see Harry through the darkness, Draco knew he had fallen beside him. How long would these people watch us die, Draco wondered. He could feel their eyes on him from behind their masks. Just be done with it. Why go this far?

It was a silly question to ask. Draco knew perfectly well why they did this. They had announced it to the wizarding world  after all. And they would watch so they could tell the world how the traitorous Lucius Malfoy’s son and the Dark Lord’s destroyer died. In pools of their own blood, in agony. 

“Malfoy?” Harry’s voice was strained, struggling with every letter. He sounded close. 

Draco swallowed, throat burning, and said, “Here.”

He heard Harry sigh.  Draco hated the relief he heard in that breath. What was the point of being relieved that he was alive when they both had minutes left at best?

“Can’t see,” Harry said.

Draco scoffed, a motion he paid for with what felt like large needles piercing his ribs. “Lost your glasses?” he asked. 

He heard a short laugh followed by a groan. Then there was a soft plop of something falling into a puddle between them. 

“No,” Harry said, having checked his face with one hand laboriously before letting it fall beside him into a bit of their mixed blood. “Still have them.” Harry hissed in pain as he shifted. 

“Quit moving,” Draco whispered. 

“Wand,” Harry muttered and Draco’s eyes widened. He just didn’t give up did he?

A third voice joined them. “Broken. All broken. You have nothing to keep you alive now.” One of the assassins had spoken up. 

It was Harry’s turn to scoff. “Who needs wands?” 

He got quiet and the hoods of the assassins whispered as they glanced at one another. What did the Dark Lord’s destroyer have up his sleeve?

The silence and darkness persisted. 

Then Draco began to see small glints of light. Had it begun? Was he finally fading from existence?

The tiny glints flickered in and out as they grew into small glowing orbs, floating around Draco and Harry. By degrees, his sight adjusted and he could finally see Harry, laying an arm’s length away. He was on his back, looking right at him with a smile that was more of a grimace.

What was he doing, trying to cast wandless magic in his state? 

“That’s better,” Harry said when he could finally see Draco clearly.

Draco felt his throat tighten, but he couldn’t look away. “You’re mad.”

“Lumos Asteria,” Harry incanted, and the little firefly lights glowed a bit brighter, warding away the oppressive darkness the strangers had wanted them to die in. 

Wasn’t that just like Harry Potter? Even when he was barely holding onto life, he cast the strongest light he could, so that at the very least, they wouldn’t feel like they were dying alone in the dark. 

The lights were beautiful. Draco laughed bitterly.

Harry’s expression softened. Everything about Draco’s expression made Harry believe that he was about to cry instead. 

“Why’re you laughing?” he asked.

Draco didn’t utter a word and looked at Harry as though he should already know why.

Harry felt a flash of frustration hot in his chest. Not this again. “You did not deserve this.”

“Speak for yourself,” Draco murmured. “Didn’t I tell you I was poison? Didn’t I tell you to leave?” A small orb floated near his cheek, its light glimmering off the rim of Draco’s reddening eyes.

Those same eyes widened as he watched Harry set his jaw. Before he could tell Harry to stop, the damn fool had begun to turn towards him. 

A ripple went through the strangers. The boy who lived still had the energy to cast spells, what else could he do? A few of them pulled out the wands that they had so confidently stowed away moments ago when the two young men fell.

Harry felt his muscles spasm against the strain, but he willed them to move as he turned onto his shoulder to roll closer to where Draco lay. 

“Stop moving,” Draco hissed, “You’ll only die faster.”

Harry ignored him. He reached out and took hold of Draco’s sleeve and with one more monumental effort got close enough to place their foreheads together. 

One of the strangers took half a step forward. “Get away from him, Potter.”

“Fuck off.” Harry didn’t bother to look over at them. 

The stranger made a motion to lift their wand, perhaps to cast a hex on Harry, but another one of the robed figures placed their hand on their arm. “Enough. You know our orders.” 

The wand-brandishing stranger snatched back his arm and resumed their place in the circle. For the time being, it seemed that the group’s only goal now was to watch them bleed out. 

Harry’s focus returned to Draco. He took a few breaths, waiting for the waves of pain to subside enough for him to speak. The spells that had hit him and Draco seemed to have been specifically designed to inflict just enough pain to keep a person awake and aware as they slowly bled out. 

When he had finally found his breath, he said, “I figure if I’m going to die, it’ll be as close to someone I– as close to you as I can get.”

“Fool.”

Harry bared his teeth. “You can do better than that, Malfoy.”

But instead of rising to his challenge, Draco fell silent and lowered his eyes. He listened to Harry’s labored breathing. This wasn’t right. Yes, he had always thought that he’d go out in this manner and it would be deserved, but not Harry. He waited until he could quell the trembling in his throat before he spoke. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“You know why.”

“I wish you never met me.” Draco’s voice cracked. The pain was getting worse with every breath, winding its way up his neck. 

Harry carefully placed his hand on the side of Draco’s head. “Wish for something you actually want.” 

Both of them were shaking. Their hearts worked frantically to keep their blood flowing, but it was to no avail. 

Draco tried to focus. He was having a harder time keeping his eyes open now. “I wish…” He searched back deep into his memories and recalled a sunny afternoon. 

Left alone to get his robes measured for his first year at Hogwarts, Draco had been getting bored until a small boy in clothes far too large for him walked in. Finally, someone his age had shown up to talk to. 

No, Draco didn’t talk to others his age back then, he talked at them. And he had treated Harry the same way. So many times over the years he had thought to himself that if he had conducted himself more properly, Harry would have been on his side. 

Only after graduating and navigating a life outside of school did Draco realize that it wouldn’t have mattered. As a child, he had represented everything that Harry disliked. Harry would have seen through him before long, and rightfully so. 

And yet, Draco wanted now what he had wanted when he was eleven. As the edges of his vision began to get cloudy and dark, he looked up again and into Harry’s eyes. “I wish,” he said, “that when we met, I had been kinder to you. Maybe then, I’d deserve your…” he didn’t finish. He couldn’t. So he gave Harry a bittersweet smile instead. 

The smile remained even as his eyes lost their light and he exhaled his final breath in this life. 

Harry’s hand on Draco’s head prickled and grew cold. Slowly, the man-who-lived lifted his chin to press his lips to Draco’s forehead. “That’s a good wish,” he murmured and closed his eyes. 

As the pair of ill-fated men faded from this unforgiving world, a more compassionate force wrapped her arms around them and pulled them out of the wizarding world as we knew it. They deserved another chance, she felt. All the characters did. And the rancid roots of true evil needed to be pulled. Or at the very least, allow them to thumb in the face of the cruel heart that had penned their original tale. They’d need help, of course, but she would ensure they got it. 

This new compassionate hand trusted in their courage. She trusted in their love.