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Harry lay on the gravel, silent as a mouse. He dared not even breathe as Voldemort's number one knelt by his side at her Master's behest- to check if he was alive.
Her razor sharp nails scratched at his throat as she checked for a pulse, and Harry knew it was the end as his heart pounded like a little rabbit. He had only needed a bit of time to get his bearings, but he was too late.
He struggled not to gag as Bellatrix's foul breath invaded his nostrils, so much so that he nearly missed what she'd asked him in a desperate whisper. "Can you save my nephew? Can you defeat the Dark Lord?" She hissed. Harry answered before he had time to consider if this was a trap. It felt like a trap but he answered anyway "Yes" he replied, as quietly as he was able.
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Bellatrix lifted him as she stood, he felt the telltale sign of a featherlight charm as she stood, casting wandlessly and wordlessly. Before she turned to face the others she slipped her replacement wand into his arm holster.
"Dead" She sneered nastily to the jubilation of the Death-Eaters and her Master. She turned around to the sobbing howls of Hagrid and placed Harry in his arms. He gasped as he felt Harry breathing in his arms "Shut your mouth half breed!" She snarled "No one wants to hear you".
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Hagrid for once kept his mouth shut. Not understanding why Bellatrix would save Harry but knowing how important it was to keep quiet. The tears running down his face no longer in distress of seeing Harry pass but instead of relief that Harry was still alive.
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Voldemort crowed in his victory. Bellatrix had been prepared for him to check her mind for proof of her honesty but once again he was too assured of his own superiority. Bellatrix questioned herself why she would even bother to consider that filthy half blood worthy of her worship. She seethed silently as she remembered the hour previous- Lucius struck down as he defended his wife from the Dark Lord's Avada, only for her dear Sister to be savaged to death by Nagini a few seconds later. She held herself stoically at the time, not allowing the rage she felt inside to show.
If Lucius had been killed for failing another extremely important mission then Bellatrix may have understood, defending Cissy was a nobel way to die in Bellatrix's opinion. Her Sister had never crossed or angered the Dark Lord before this day and had been killed purely because of her devotion to her Son- to Bellatrix's Nephew. The Dark Lord saw her as a risk to his total Domination of the young boy.
Narcissa had dared to tell her Master that Draco was to Marry only for love, and that the only person with autonomy over his body was Draco himself. Their Lord had not been happy with this. He saw Draco as his to keep- his to control-his to own.
Lucius himself had expressed his fears of someone taking Draco's body against his will in the past. It was the reason, like Narcissa, Draco was never left alone. Even at night he slept fully clothed with either her and Rodolphus or with his parents. He never questioned it, something that always concerned her. But she knew the boy to still be pure and untainted thank goodness. She checked with magic every night he slept with them. Narcissa's death would not be in vain. Bellatrix vowed to protect him- whatever it took
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The boy was the Crown Jewel of the Blacks and the Malfoys. He was Blood Purity personified, with the looks of an Veela. His gender changed nothing for Voldemort, who was incapable of love for loves sake. But it fed the obsession he had with the young Malfoy Heir. Another victory when he finally dominated the teenager.
Even now as his celebrated victoriously parading the corpse of the youngest Potter, his snake like eyes darted around the crowd searching for his blonde beauty. He gave the other a chance- he was after all unaware of his parent's demise. Of his attempt to do things the "proper way" when he approached Lucius and Narcissa requesting Draco's hand for a Marital bond. It wasn't his problem that Draco's parents had been-difficult.
Feeling magnanimous he called forth anyone that wished to join their side- the right side- his side. No one moved forward. His little dove moved backwards in the crowd, wrapping his long arms around the Weasley Mother- whose eyes widened in suprise before she responded in kind. Voldemort allowed him a minute of false comfort before he commanded his magic rip Draco from her arms and back to his side.
"You!" He screamed "You are the only one without a choice! Did you think because you are unmarked it means you are not mine?! I own you! Your mind- your body- your everything is mine to do as I will! Do you understand?!" He spat. The young boy nodded rapidly, his body trembling as he did so.
As Voldemort began stroking the blonde's hair a sudden all encompassing pain tore through his body. He gripped Draco's hair pulling, uncaring of the boy's pain as he held in his own feelings of pain and loss. Hearing a thump to his left he turned just in time to see his dear Nagini's head bounce along the ground one last time. The Longbottom boy clutching the sword of Gryffindor like a lifeline.
"You'll pay for that! Like your parents did before you!" He snarled "Bella- teach that scum a lesson!"
Bellatrix smirked as she raised her wand "Crucio!" She yelled- putting her all into the spell in a way that she'd never done before. Voldemort fell to the ground from the sheer force of it. She revelled in the gasps of suprise from both sides and looked around herself as she continued to cast, silently daring anyone to cross her. Blood poured from Voldemort's snake like eyes and nostrils and still she continued until her vision started to blur and darken. It was at that point Potter literally rolled out onto the battlefield.
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Voldemort didn't have time to take revenge on his traitorous lieutenant before he was fighting for his life throwing Curse after Curse at the boy who lived while holding a protego over the Malfoy boy- he didn't want him damaged after all (by anyone else at least) and if history proved anything it was that Potter had always equally hated and (to Voldemort and Harry's knowledge only) desired the young Heir in equal measure, with a desire to mark the young blonde in any way.
This proved to make things somewhat difficult for the older man- especially as Draco refused to stay by his side. Voldemort's response times were slower, making it easier for the young Potter to get the upper hand more times then nor as they whipped their magic back and forth.
Eventually they ended up locking each other's magic together in a furious showdown. Voldemort could not believe that his Avada's magic was being equalled by that of a mere Expelliarmus. His arms shook as he used both hands to hold onto his wand. Eventually the strain of the Avada and Protego became too much and the spilt second he dropped both in order to concentrate fully on fighting Potter was enough for the Raven haired boy to take the upper hand, destroying his wand and reversing Voldemort's spell back on himself.
He fell to the ground dead. He did not crack, he did not fade, he did not disintegrate. But fell like a normal mortal man. Lifeless- to return no more.
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The relief was evident in Harry's face as Voldemort died. He'd not expected to win against the more experienced Wizard and he blamed the adrenaline on what he did next.
Running to Malfoy he grabbed the other boy's face and kissed him fiercely on the mouth. Just after he tried to force his tongue through the other boys lips Draco pushed him away, as Harry fell backwards onto the ground it was then Harry realised that the other boy had frozen- had not returned his kiss. His eyes watered with frustration, embarrassment and regret.
The last time Harry ever saw Draco Malfoy was mere minutes later. As Kingsley shackled Draco's hands together. Ignoring the yells from those surrounding him that the boy was unmarked, that he was a minor. That he had no choice. His haunted grey eyes held Harry's one last time before her was apparated away.
That's how the Prophet remembered Draco two weeks later. When the Malfoy Heir hung himself in his cell after hearing about the Death of his parents the day before his trial. Where he would've been acquitted.
The Boy with no Choice.