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Between Ruin and Salvation by Kihin Ranno
 | Part Five: Through the Veil (Again) | |
This story contains adult material. If you are not of legal age, leave this page now.
Headmaster Severus Snape was working behind the desk in what had once been Albus Dumbledore’s office, when something blond and very angry suddenly appeared out of thin air. It was not often that Snape was surprised by anything, but one of the last and most significant acts of Narcissa Malfoy’s life had been teaching her son Occlumency. She had been quite proficient. Even Snape had not known of her talents.
Draco had inherited more from his mother than her coloring.
“What are you doing here, stupid boy?” Snape asked, leaning back in his chair and staring down the length of Draco’s wand. “Attacking me, are you?” He grinned. “We’re on the same side.”
“Are we?” Draco asked, grinding his teeth. “That is what the Order finally decided. Remus Lupin spoke for you. Did you know he died?”
Snape raised an eyebrow. “I have been told. Do you expect me to mourn him, Mr. Malfoy? Surely you know Lupin was no friend of mine.”
Draco scoffed. “I’ve come to realize you have no friends, Prof… Headmaster Snape. You have tools. Pawns, if you prefer the chess metaphor.”
Snape tented his fingers, never letting his eyes leave the tip of his former student’s wand. “Whatever could you mean?”
“You and Dumbledore let me keep working back in my Sixth Year because you wanted to use me,” Draco hissed. “But it all backfired with Ron Weasley, didn’t it? No one was actually supposed to get hurt. You were supposed to watch out for that much, but you couldn’t keep an eye on me all the time. When Weasley and Slughorn died, you couldn’t use me like you wanted. Dumbledore wanted another spy. A marked, Pureblood spy who already knew Occlumency thanks to his mother.
“But I wouldn’t do it. So instead, you both shuffled me into hiding with Luna, stashing my mother somewhere else. And you swore to me she’d be safe. You wouldn’t even tell me where she was, just to be sure.”
Draco took another step forward, the tip of the wand just inches away from Snape’s nose. “And then my parents died. McGonagall told me she thought that it was because Voldemort wanted to show me how wrong I had been to betray him.
“I don’t think that’s how it happened,” Draco said slowly, every word a hidden threat. “My father, yes. He died before the attack on Hogwarts, and no one but the Death Eaters could have gotten to him in Azkaban.
“But my mother wasn’t killed until afterwards. After you fled. And supposedly, you and Dumbledore were the only ones who knew where she was.”
Snape curled his lips. “What are you suggesting, Mr. Malfoy?”
“That you killed my mother.”
He shrugged. “What reason could I have had? You know I was fond of Narcissa.”
“You killed her to force me into your bloody war!” Draco raged. “You killed her so that all I’d have left was a little Ravenclaw girl determined to help save the world! You must have known that Dumbledore was telling Hermione about the Horcruxes. You must have known she was going with him that night. And she told us that you’re the one who saved her life. You did that so she could tell the story, so that she could find the pieces of the Dark Lord’s soul and destroy them.
“You knew she couldn’t go alone. You knew Luna would go.” Draco swallowed a lump forming in his throat. “And you hoped that I would follow her out of desperation.”
Snape arched an eyebrow. “I am flattered that you think me such a master of espionage.”
“No one survives as a double agent against Voldemort for this long without being that good.”
“All right then,” Snape posited, leaning closer to Draco’s wand. “Let us entertain the idea that all of this is true. What have you come for, Draco Malfoy? Revenge? Would you really risk the lives of the students still under my care for that?”
Draco nodded. “Oh, yes. I would.”
Snape smirked. “Then why aren’t I already dead?”
Draco’s wand trembled.
“I know you’ve killed, Mr. Malfoy, so I do not think that your soul is too pure to do it,” Snape spat. “I think there are two options. One, you are not sure that I am the monster you have made me out to be. Or two… your lover asked you not to.”
Draco flinched like a blow hitting home.
Snape’s smile widened. “Ah, there it is. Amazing, Mr. Malfoy. You do so much for the sake of women that you love. You nearly killed yourself to save your mother, and now it seems you will follow Luna Lovegood into the realm of Death itself. You will not even take vengeance because she begged you not to.”
“She didn’t beg,” Draco hissed. “But she said she didn’t want the children to suffer. If you leave, there’s no one to hold the Carrows back. Without you, things here would be worse than they already are.” He shuddered, clearly fighting the urge to turn away. “And I’ve heard how bad things are as it is.”
“So I live to die another day,” Snape chuckled. “How nice for me.”
Draco growled like a dog on the leash and nearly threw himself across the desk. Snape had to throw himself back so that the wand did not go into his eye socket. Draco drove it into his neck so hard that it was difficult to breathe. And for the first time, Snape was a little afraid of the boy.
“But remember this, Headmaster,” Draco said, his voice frighteningly level. “Luna is sure that we’ll survive this trip into the afterlife. She’s even sure that we’ll bring back Potter, and against all reason, I almost believe her. And if I do come back, and Potter does save the world… if after all of that, you are still alive, I will find you. And I will make you bleed for taking my mother from me.”
They remained in that position for a tense three seconds, easily the worst three seconds for Snape in recent memory. Then Draco pulled away. He picked up the broom that had served as his transportation and Potter’s damned invisibility cloak. Snape rubbed his neck and wheezed, “Foolish boy. Why would you tell me you’d kill me before you do it? That’s practically… Gryffindor.”
Draco looked over his shoulder and gave Snape a chilling smile.
“But you forget, sir, and after I just showed you too,” he said almost cheerfully. “You’ll never see me coming.”
Draco mounted his broom and threw the cloak around his shoulders. Snape listened to him kick off and then disappear into the dimming afternoon light. When Draco was gone, and only then, did Snape allow his shoulders to stoop and his hands to quiver.
“You were wrong about one thing, Draco,” Snape murmured, folding his hands as if in fervent prayer. “Lucius was mine as well.”
-----
Explosions resounded all around them as they ran through the Department of Mysteries. Flashes of light streaked by her eyes, sometimes singeing her hair, but miraculously never hitting her. Draco was running behind her, firing off jinxes and curses to hold back the advancing Death Eater swarm. Luna sent her own hex flying over his shoulder, shaking her head.
“I wish you wouldn’t use Unforgivables,” she informed him smoothly.
“Crucio!” he shouted, pretending not to hear.
“I understand they’re necessary on occasion,” she continued, twirling around him and deflecting a spell that had been aimed for his head. “But you use them when it’s not.”
Draco shrugged. “I find them more effective.”
“Reducto!” Luna shouted, blowing one of the shelves that had once housed a thousand prophecies to bits. It sent the Death Eaters flying backwards. She turned and simply raised her eyebrows at Draco.
He rolled his eyes. “Well, I don’t always have furniture to explode.”
She grinned and grabbed his wrist, pulling him along. “This way!”
She led him down the corridors, retracing her footsteps to the veil. To her surprise, she never took a wrong turn. She felt its presence as if they were connected. She ran along the invisible path as if running towards her destiny. And in a way, she supposed the veil was everyone’s destiny.
Finally, they emerged in the empty room that held the veil and ground to a halt. She stood there with him, gulping in what could be the last oxygen she would ever taste. “Do you hear them?” she asked, closing her eyes. The whispers from beyond rose around her, pulling her forward. She could make out no words, but she knew they wanted her to come to them. She knew they wanted her to walk through. “Do you hear?”
He tightened his grip on her hand. “Please don’t sound like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re looking forward to it.”
She opened her eyes, giving him a smile that she hoped was reassuring. “I don’t want to die, Draco.”
“You better not,” he muttered. Suddenly, they heard a crash from behind. “They’re catching up.”
“It’s all right,” she assured him, starting to walk forward. “They won’t follow us.”
“Didn’t think they would.”
They ascended the dais and then stopped just short of the veil’s threshold. Draco held her hand so tightly that there was actually reason for her to be concerned he might break a finger. She turned to him, smiling brightly. “Ready?”
“One last thing,” he murmured, leaning forward.
She held up a hand, pressing two fingers to his lips. “No.”
He glared at her. “And why not?”
“Because you’ll treat it like a last kiss,” she said. “And I don’t think it’s time for that yet.”
Another bang sang out behind them, and a stripe of witch-light soared through the air.
“Luna, if you’re wrong about this, I will haunt you forever,” Draco said darkly.
“I’m not sure dead people can haunt other dead people.”
“Oh, I will find a way.”
She nodded. “I’m sure you will.”
Then they took a deep breath, each praying it was not their last, and hand-in-hand, walked through the veil.
-----
Harry looked up from where he held on to Sirius and saw something moving in the distance. In the sea of grey, he saw splashes of color – blond hair, green jumper, blue skirt, red shoes. And if he saw color, he knew there had to be someone else alive in this dead world. Someone had come through the veil after them. They were getting out.
“They’re here,” Harry whispered happily. “It’s all right now, Sirius. Someone’s hear.” He whistled as loud as could, just like Fred and George had taught him and waved his arms wildly. “Oi! Over here! We’re over here!”
He heard a thrilled gasp, and the spots of color began to streak towards them, one faster than the other. Within moments, he recognized that Luna Lovegood of all people had crossed over to find him. He moved away from Sirius only to prevent him from getting trampled, and nearly fell over when Luna crashed into him, hugging him so tightly that he very well could have joined the dead.
“I knew it!” Luna cried, kissing his face several times over. He didn’t want to know how red his face was. “I knew you were alive! I knew we’d find you!”
“Against all odds, Potter keeps on breathing. I am both shocked and amazed.”
Harry turned to the sound of the too familiar drawl, letting his mouth fall open. “Malfoy? What are you doing here?”
Draco’s expression was predictably full of disdain, but Harry caught something else lurking beneath the shadows of disgust. Draco turned to Sirius, holding out his hand. “You’re Black then. You were my mother’s cousin. So what? We’re seconds then?”
“Yes,” Sirius muttered, with a bit of a snarl. He got up without taking Draco’s hand. “Although considering your Aunt sent me here, I’m not especially thrilled with the reunion.”
“Oh, but she’s dead, so surely it’s all right now,” Luna said.
Harry and Sirius both stared. “Bella’s dead?” Sirius asked incredulously.
“Yes. Harry, did you know that werewolves can snap people’s necks with their bare hands?” Luna asked, her eyes bright and wide as ever.
Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “Ha! Moony showed her.”
“Luna,” Draco murmured, momentarily pulling her aside. “Don’t you notice something… odd?”
“I notice something odd,” Harry spat. “You’re here. I think that’s plenty odd. What, did you come toddling after me like always? Decide to help your dad and your aunt kill me?”
Luna opened her mouth to answer him, and then suddenly she was giving him a strange look. Though really, most of Luna’s looks were strange. “Oh. Oh, I see.”
“You see what?” Harry asked impatiently. “Only weird thing I see is that you’re here with him. What are you friends now? When did that happen? He’s spent the whole year strutting about the school—"
“Oh, I strut?” Draco interrupted. “How rich.”
Luna shushed him. “Draco, not now.”
“—torturing people!” Harry continued. “How can you be getting on with him now? And what the hell is he even doing here in the first place! Why didn’t Ron and Hermione come through? Or do they have to do something on the other side to get us out?”
Draco and Luna exchanged an unreadable glance. Then they looked at Sirius, and when Harry looked at Sirius too, he saw his godfather’s face pale. It was like everyone else was sharing a secret, keeping it from him on purpose as if he were a child. He couldn’t stand it.
“Look, I don’t even care,” he snapped. “I just want to get out of this place. What did Hermione figure out?”
“Portkey,” Luna said, holding up a small black pouch.
“Will that work?” Sirius asked incredulously.
“No idea,” Draco admitted. “At the moment, I’m just thrilled that I wasn’t killed by curtains. Much as I hate to admit it, I agree with Potter.” He shuddered. “Merlin, that leaves a nasty taste in my mouth.”
“Draco, do try to be civil.”
“This is civil for me.”
Luna sighed, but pressed on. “Well, I suppose we’d best be getting on. Everyone put a hand on me please.”
“Above the waist,” Draco snapped, giving Harry an especially dark glare.
Harry and Sirius each took an elbow, while Draco wrapped an arm around her shoulders from behind, confirming Harry’s worst suspicions. He swallowed his objections for the time being, deciding there would be time enough for that back home.
“Now then,” Luna said, preparing to tip the Portkey into her hand, “as far as I can tell, there are one of three outcomes for this plan. Either we make it out, we’re stuck, or we’re taken to some alternate dimension of some kind.”
“Very reassuring, love,” Draco grumbled. “Just try. If I’m going to haunt you, I’d like to get going on it as soon as possible.”
Without another word or second of hesitation, Luna opened the pouch. A golden snitch tumbled out into her palm.
Then something tugged at Harry’s bellybutton, and the dead world swirled away from him.
-----
They tumbled out of the air, every one of them hitting the ground gracelessly, as if they had been tossed out of the afterlife with disgust. Harry looked around at his new surroundings, blinking against the bright sunlight and color. He was surprised to find them outside. Why hadn’t they set the Portkey for the Ministry? And why on Earth had they chosen a campsite as their landing spot?
All these questions tumbled out of Harry’s head when he heard Draco Malfoy give a positively joyous whoop. He spun to see Malfoy lift Luna off the ground and twirl her around. And Luna, traitor to Slytherin, just giggled and shouted along with him. Harry was about to tell them to shut it, when Draco silenced both of them by kissing Luna harder than any proper girl ought to be kissed.
“Oh, disgusting,” Harry muttered, turning away sharply.
“Must you ruin my moment, Potter?” Draco snapped.
“I think you did that yourself,” Luna said lightly. “But I think that kiss is much better than the other one would have been. Even if you did cut it off.”
Harry wanted to rip his ears off so that he wouldn’t have to hear them. “Jesus Christ. I don’t know when this bloody awful thing happened between the two of you, but I really don’t want to look at it anymore. Where are Ron and Hermione? And what have they said about this? And why the hell are we at a campsite, and all these papers…. Is this Hermione’s handwriting?”
Luna snatched the paper out of his hands with surprisingly sharp reflexes. Then she folded her hands in front of her face, resting her fingers on her lips. He thought she looked sad, but he could never really be sure with Luna.
“Harry,” she began, gently enough to make him nervous. “Harry, don’t you notice anything…. No, wait. You’ll just bring up Draco and I…. Oh! Harry. How tall am I?”
Harry wished that this was the oddest thing she’d ever said to him. “Err… I don’t know? About the same height as I am?”
“Yes!” she said, nodding. “Was I always?”
“No, I don’t think you popped out of your mum that height,” Harry muttered.
Draco snorted. “Brilliant observation, Potter.”
Harry turned to say something scathing, when he realized what had been off about Malfoy. He was used to seeing Draco eye-to-eye, but now, Draco was looking down at him. “When did you get that tall?”
“In the three and half years you’ve been gone, you stupid git,” Draco snapped.
Luna whirled on him, but she didn’t glare. “Draco, I was attempting to ease him into it.”
“It would have taken an age.”
“Years?” Harry murmured, his brain refusing to grasp that. “But… that’s impossible. It’s only been a few minutes. Maybe an hour.”
Luna reached forward and encircling his wrists with her fingers. “Harry, I don’t know what to tell you, but it’s been a very long time since you left. I suppose… time works differently where you were. You stopped aging, and it felt like a little while, but it wasn’t.”
“Thank God it did,” Draco muttered. “Would have made you mental if it felt that long.”
“Too right,” Sirius agreed. Harry realized for the first time that Sirius had never gotten to his feet. “It took me a moment, but I realized there was no way you two were Harry’s age…. But over three years?”
“And Harry,” Luna said, her voice as soft as a feather, “a lot has changed in three years.”
He’d thought he heard Ron’s voice on the other side.
“Where are Ron and Hermione?” Harry demanded. “And Professor Lupin? Neville? Ginny? Luna, where is everyone else?”
Luna looked over her shoulder at Draco, but Harry jerked on her arms. “Don’t look at him! Tell me what’s happened! I need to know.”
Luna kept hesitating, but Draco said, “He does. He needs to know.”
“Now?” she asked. “Right away?”
“He asked.”
Luna didn’t want to tell him. Harry knew that. He also knew that it had to be very bad if Luna, who was so adept at accidentally hurting others with her brutal honesty, didn’t want to say it. But she came through for him in the end, taking a deep breath and plunging ahead.
“Bellatrix Lestrange was killed at the Department of Mysteries by Remus Lupin. He snapped her neck.
“Lucius Malfoy and the other Death Eaters involved in the attack were caught and imprisoned in Azkaban.
“Following the realization that Voldemort was back, Cornelius Fudge was deposed as the Minister of Magic. Rufus Scrimgeour took his place.”
She paused again, her eyes shifting over to Draco. She didn’t continue until he gave her another, barely perceptible nod.
“Katie Bell was attacked during a Hosmeade weekend, cursed and suspended in the air. She was committed to St. Mungo’s after she slipped into a coma. She never woke up.
“Horace Slughorn, a new professor at Hogwarts, ingested a fatal poison and was killed.”
She stopped again. Her grip on his wrists tightened.
“Ron Weasley ingested a fatal poison and… was killed—"
“No!”
“—on the same day. It was his 17th birthday.”
“No!” Harry repeated, trying to tear himself away. “No, you’re lying!”
“Why would she tell you that if it wasn’t true, Potter?” Draco muttered.
“You said you heard him, Harry,” Sirius added, reaching up to grasp his trembling arm. “I’m so sorry. But you said you heard him.”
Tears pricked at Harry’s eyes. He had. He’d thought he heard Ron call him and thought that meant he was coming to save him. He’d told himself it had been in his head, but he’d always feared what it had really meant. Luna was telling the truth. She never lied.
“Who did it?” Harry hissed, trying in vain not to cry. “I’ll kill them!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Luna said softly.
“Bloody hell it doesn’t—"
“Harry, I’m not done.”
He froze. How could she not be done? How had the world continued turning without Ron Weasley in it? Things had stopped for him in that ghost world. How had the real world not turned into an extension of Death when Ron Weasley left?
“Should I go on?” Luna asked.
Somehow, he worked up the courage to nod.
And she continued to list the dead.
“The Death Eaters invaded Hogwarts during what would have been your Sixth Year at Hogwarts,” Luna whispered. “Fenrir Greyback, an untransformed werewolf, attacked and killed Bill Weasley.”
“Shit,” Sirius said, his hand slipping away from Harry’s arm. “Molly.”
“And… that same night, Albus Dumbledore was murdered.”
Sirius let out a low moan, curling into himself.
Harry didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how to speak anymore.
“Ginny Weasley was attacked by Fenrir Greyback when she tried to save her brother. She… confessed to allowing the Death Eaters in to Hogwarts, hoping to save her family. She was maimed, her face permanently disfigured. She attempted to commit suicide and was committed to St. Mungo’s until she could be transferred to Azkaban’s psychiatric ward.
“Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were killed the same night as the Hogwarts attack.
“The Death Eaters took over the Ministry. Then they took over Hogwarts. And they kept killing.
“Dean Thomas was kidnapped some months ago and killed for being a half-blood.
“Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-Eye Moody were killed in a failed attempt to take back the Ministry.
“Minerva McGonagall was killed defending her students from being tortured at Hogwarts School.
“Parvati and Padma Patil, Cho Chang, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnagin, Colin Creevy, Sybil Trelawney, Charity Burbage, Fleur Delacour, and Nymphadora Tonks, among others, are missing and presumed dead.”
Luna’s eyes flicked over to Sirius. “Remus Lupin was killed by Fenrir Greyback during an attack on his home.”
Sirius wasn’t moaning anymore. Harry thought he might have been crying.
“Fenrir Greyback was killed by Hermione Granger in retaliation.” She stopped again, chewing on her lip, and then pressed on with the last of it. “Hermione spent all this time looking for you, Harry. Right after she got out of the infirmary, she went to the library to find a way to get you back. She searched for years, and… between that and losing Ron, she lost her mind. She’s been committed to St. Mungo’s.”
Harry couldn’t take it anymore. His legs wouldn’t hold him up. He collapsed completely, slipping out of her grip and nearly taking her down with him. He held his knees to his chest and started to bury his face in his knees.
Luna started to stoop to help him, but then Malfoy gently pushed her aside, pointing towards Sirius. Harry saw her wrap an arm around his stooped shoulders, rubbing his back and making soothing noises. He knew he’d be getting none of that from Draco.
“Potter,” Malfoy began, crouching in front of him. “Potter, look at me.”
Harry didn’t. He couldn’t.
“Fine. Don’t then,” Malfoy muttered crossly. “Listen, I know you didn’t want this. I know you thought you’d come out of the veil and fall into a pile of Gryffindor hugs and everything would be the same as when you left it. I can’t imagine how it is to have everything taken from you like this. I won’t presume to say I do.
“But this is what I know. We need you. We always needed you. The prophecy said that you had to kill Voldemort. And I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I have been doing everything in my power to try and do it without you. Luna and Hermione and I. We tried, and it drove Hermione mad. Remus died for it. Remus and so many others.
“But Voldemort’s still out there. He’s still alive killing people and even if I understand why he’s doing it, I know it isn’t right. And if I know that, then you have to feel it in every inch of you. He can’t be allowed to do it anymore.
“You’re supposed to save us, Potter.”
Harry sat there, listening to the sounds of the woods and Sirius crying. Then he forced himself to raise his eyes to Draco’s grey ones. For once, he didn’t doubt Malfoy’s honesty. Draco really and truly believed that Harry was meant to save them. He’d brought them back to do it. He’d brought Harry back to become their savior. Their Chosen One. Their Jesus Christ.
“You have to save us.”
Harry blinked, letting twin tears fall down his cheeks, and he didn’t care that Malfoy saw. Then he said the only thing he could think to say.
“How?”
-----
Harry didn’t know it, but there were easy ways to answer this question. They could have told him about the Horcruxes. They could have mentioned the ones they’d destroyed, that they thought Nagini might be one, and that there might be a Ravenclaw item. They could have shown him the various plans of attack Neville and Luna had drawn up on the rare occasion they met to work out tactical strategies. There were things they could have said to answer his question.
But they knew this was not what he was really asking. They knew he really meant, ‘How can I do this alone?’ Because even if they had managed to rescue Sirius, even if Neville, Luna, Draco, and a few others were still left to fight, it wasn’t who he needed. He needed Ron as his wingman and Hermione as his strategist. He needed Dumbledore to guide him. He needed things they could not give him.
There was nothing they could say to make it better.
And maybe there was nothing they could do to save the world.
That night, Sirius changed into Padfoot and slept underneath the stars, warmed by his pelt and comforted with a duller, canine intellect. Draco and Luna retreated to their tent, and Harry listened as Luna cried and as Draco begged her to please stop because she’d never done so before and he didn’t know how to help her. And Harry laid down in Hermione’s tent, smelled Hermione all around him, ran his hands over the books her hands had caressed.
And he wished that they’d never saved him.
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