Living Death

- chapter forty six

Goyle had fallen into the clutches of Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan long before Draco had caught up with him, thinking better of pursuing him and favouring leaving him to struggle against them.

In his rage he'd left you with the trio and soon regretted his decision, turning on his heels to return to the seventh corridor.

He ducked hexes and spells thrown his way, weaving in between the conflict but despite his urgency to get to you, he couldn't escape his father who had spotted him across a corridor, immediately following him and slamming him up against the wall suddenly.

Lucius' eyes were haunted with the desperation of a broken man as he stared into Draco's, a heavy stubble on his usually clean-shaven face and his expression haggard.

"Where is Y/N?" He gripped his son's shoulders firmly, blinking rapidly and looking around erratically, his voice almost breaking, "We saved her, the least she can do is bring Potter to us"

"I haven't seen her!" Draco shook off his hold and gritted his teeth, he wasn't exactly lying, he hadn't seen you since you'd both escaped the inferno, "I don't know where she is.."

Narcissa joined Lucius' side in a matter of seconds and gasped at seeing her son once again, instantly pulling him from her husband's clutches and into her arms.

He was thankful his mother and father were alive but not knowing where you were was beginning to eat away at him. He had an uneasy gut feeling that something bad had happened.

A harsh curse hit the stone wall beside Draco's head and Narcissa flinched from the hug, panic rising in her eyes as both she and Lucius turned to the source, Lucius immediately retaliating with a far more unforgivable curse. Draco took the opportunity to make a run for it, ignoring his mother's depleting cries of his name. He had to find you.

He headed back up to the corridor he'd left you at, or what remained of it. His heart sank as he stepped into the cold remnants of the seventh floor, his breathing rapid as he realised there was nothing to the surrounding walls and multiple bodies lay limp amongst the debris, indistinguishable due to the sheer amount of dust and rubble that covered them.

One body, however, lay easily recognisable and a stubborn reminder that this wasn't school anymore. Fred Weasley. He felt sick, his head dizzy, bile rising up his throat. He'd never been particularly fond of the Weasley family but he didn't wish any of them dead, his childish comments during his school days held no real gravity.

He wasn't capable of anything even remotely close to this yet he remained branded with the same mark as whoever had caused this atrocity. Draco's side had been decided for him by his inability to callously attack his peers.

He tried not to think of your body lying there, knowing he would not endure searching through the rubble for you.

His feet carried him before his head could, and he found himself outside, aimlessly searching for someone who may have at least seen you, Fred's haunting smile still etched in his mind. Anyone he saw who was even remotely friends with you seemed deep in combat and he felt nauseous, knowing you were likely somewhere facing your own battles.

He ran into one of the courtyards, his head pounding as his heartbeat grew louder, following after Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood as they fended off Thorfinn Rowle from some defenceless Hufflepuff students.

Without fully absorbing his surroundings, he collided with a familiar blonde, Fleur Delacour, the momentary panic that crossed her face vanishing as she recognised him.

"Y/N-" He gasped for breath, eyes widening as he made eye contact with her, knowing you two were close. Her gaze seemed to focus and grow concerned as she noticed his turmoil and realised you weren't by his side.