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“Harry Potter is dead!” The Dark Lord shouted to the court yard. All around him were reactions, Death Eaters laughing, students and teachers crying out disbelieving. But for Draco, everything stopped. All he could hear was his heartbeat filling his ears. Potter is dead.
He didn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe it. Harry Potter cannot be dead. He’s the boy who lived, the boy who had faced off against the Dark Lord five times and survived. There was no way he could be dead now.
His lungs were filling with air but he couldn’t breathe, every breath taken doing nothing for him. All he could hear was his heartbeat. Everything around him stopped. Harry can’t be dead.
There were hands on his arm, pulling him backwards, swallowing him up into the crowds of people around him. He didn’t know who was pulling him backwards, causing him to stumble as they did so, but he couldn’t find himself caring. It could be the Dark Lord himself coming to kill Draco in front of everybody and he couldn’t care less.
The arm pulling him brought him to the back of the crowd, away from the open, away from Potter. He looked up to who was pulling him, Pansy. She had both her hands on him, facing one another, she was speaking but he couldn’t hear a thing.
He blinked, his body took in air, his heart was beating, but he couldn’t hear feel or breathe.
“Draco, take a deep breathe come on count of four. Breathe in with me. 1 2 3 4” Pansy’s voice broke through his shell but it was distant, he tried following her advice but it wasn’t working. “Breathe Draco goddammit.”
He wasn’t aware of the tears falling from his eyes. But they were there. Pansy didn’t mention them, not even after the fact, she just kept instructing him to breathe. In for four, hold for four, out for eight.
It felt like forever, but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. His breathing started to calm, to regulate. The sounds of chaos around him came back, the tears -although not stopping- slowed.
“It’s okay Draco. It’s going to be okay.” She pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tightly. His arms hung around his sides, unable to reciprocate. It wasn’t going to be okay.
When she pulled away she studied his face before nodding and pulling him back into the crowd. Not to the front where he was, but at a point where they could see what was happening. He could see the backs of Weasley and Granger’s heads, and could only imagine how they were feeling. They loved Potter more than he did and he wasn’t aware that was possible.
And then it happened.
In a rush of commotion Potter jumped up out of Hagrid’s arms, running across the court yard towards his friends, towards Draco. There were gasps all around and the Dark Lord’s face darkened. Draco could feel Pansy’s hand close tightly on his arm from where she was standing beside him. The man was looking as though Christmas was cancelled.
Amongst the chaos of Potter announcing himself alive Draco realized something, an important something. Potter didn’t have a wand. He had taken Draco’s weeks ago -merlin knows why- but he had been using it only hours prior in the Room of Requirement. And after they fell through the doorway Draco had picked up his wand before booking it. Harry didn’t have a wand. And Draco knew what he needed to do.
He pulled himself away from Pansy’s grasp and pushed his way through the crowd, a task he found more difficult than he could imagine.
It wasn’t until he was standing beside Granger that he shouted “POTTER!” To the man who was a few meters away. Potter turned to look at him questioningly, and Draco could feel the eyes of not only Granger and Weasley and Pansy, but of the Death Eaters, his parents, and the Dark Lord. But it was too late to lose his courage.
In a swift motion Draco pulled his wand out from his sleeve and tossed it to Potter, and he could feel everything move around him in slow motion. The gasp from Granger, the hand from Pansy -trying to stop him from doing stupid but it was too late- all felt a million miles away. The only thing that existed was Potters brilliant green eyes locked onto his own for a fraction of a second before grabbing his wand, giving Draco a smile, and turning back towards the Dark Lord. Wand out.
Pansy didn’t bother pulling him back again, but she stood there with her hand tightening around his forearm. His eyes were too focused on Potter to notice his parents staring at him. His mother was proud, his father was horrified and ashamed.
He didn’t hear the words that Potter shouted at the Dark Lord but was aware of the spell being casted at him, of the bright green -not unlike Harry’s eyes- of the killing curse being shot towards the boy. He took in a breath of air, holding his breath and unable to let go. Potter shot back another spell, a red one he would later find out to be the disarming spell.
He watched as the two stood facing one another, wands casting but nothing happening. At least until the Dark Lords spell rebounded and he dropped against the ground. His body still warm -assuming there was any warmth to him- eyes still open, but unmoving. Dead.
The Dark Lord was dead. Voldemort was dead.
Death Eaters left in a hurry, trying to flee before the ministry caught them and put them in Azkaban, and although Draco wouldn’t be aware of it for many hours, his parents were amongst those caught. Draco himself however made his way into the Great Hall with Pansy, sitting on a bench to the side of the room, trying to keep out of everyone’s line of sight.
He was sure he would eventually be brought to the ministry and put to trial, he did after all have the mark. But he wasn’t too worried about that in the moment. There were more important people for the Auror’s to be capturing he figured.
Draco continued to sit there on the bench. At one point Professor McGonagall had come by and given him a cup of hot chocolate and a small smile before continuing on. As he sat there he watched. He could see the Weasley’s and Granger standing around one of the Weasley twins, and not too far from them he could see Professor Lupin laying dead as well. He couldn’t however see Potter.
Draco looked around, searching for the boy only to find him walking towards him, with a determined look on his face. Draco didn’t have time to react before Potter strolled up to him and grabbed his face in his hands and kissed him. Smack on the mouth.
Draco was so surprised that he didn’t even close his eyes for a few moments, unable to register what in Salazar’s name Potter was doing. When Draco did realize what Potter was doing however he closed his eyes and kissed the boy back, kissed him like it gave him oxygen, kissed him as though his life depended on it and as though he would never get another chance (he would of course, hours later- but he didn’t know that).
When Potter finally pulled away it was only a few centermeters, fifteen at most. “Thank you.” And then the boy kissed him again. And for the first time in years Draco felt that everything was going to be okay, because Harry Potter is Alive.