The Dance of Death

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February 5th 1998

Draco pulled away from Harper to scowl at the Death Eater stood across from them on the seventh floor. If it weren't for that dreadfully familiar voice, he would have assumed it to be anyone in that black hood. The mask with snake-like eye slits gave nothing away, but he knew that laugh all too well. The others all had their wands pointed on them, but the Death Eater didn't seem bothered to hold up their own, steadfast on playing first.

"Pansy," he addressed her.

Slowly, she removed her mask with her wand to reveal an accursed grin. Granger's wand arm faltered slightly, but Ron and Nott just pressed forward. Harper, on the other hand, didn't protract hers and simply stood.

Pansy looked lengths different in the Death Eater robes, so nefarious it nearly left him speechless. It was no longer the girl he grew up with standing before him, but the ghost of her. Her dark eyes didn't leave his, analysing him with a combination of amusement and skepticism.

"Hello Draco, Theodore," she smiled.

"What are you doing, Parkinson?" He asked slowly, in his habitual clipped tone.

"What am I doing?" She laughed, then frowned. "I don't know, to be honest. Am I standing with allies or enemies?"

"Enemies," Ron spat.

She smirked in a humourless, cruel way that reminded him of Bellatrix. It looked too at home on her face. Draco could barely believe he once may have married this girl.

"I knew that, you dirt poor dunce. I was talking to the rumoured deserters," her eyes flashed to him, "so is it true? You're here with the Order?"

"What does it look like, Parkinson?" Harper leered. He hadn't heard her voice sound so dark for years now, it was near-foreign for him.

From the way she squared her shoulders and pointed her wand straight at them, it was obvious Pansy didn't feel anything for him anymore. And all he felt for her now was disappointment, disgust, and sympathy. The girl was beyond help, she was too deep. There was no way he could talk himself out of this one. No one would walk away from this situation unharmed and he knew he wouldn't let it be himself or Harper.

"It looks like you've forced him to abandon everything he ever stood for. Really, Draco, you're going to stand with these mudbloods and blood-traitors?" She said and he actually flinched at the words, not because of what she accused him of, but because of what she called Granger and Weasley.

"I never forced him to do anything," Harper pushed, "just because you're so ignorant-"

"Shut up!" She warned through gritted teeth, "you and all your mudblood and blood-traitor friends will die tonight. That's including you, Draco, you're a blood-"

But she was cut off as the havoc of duelling filled the corridor. More Death Eaters had penetrated the seventh floor now, but so had two other Order members. He identified one as Thicknesse, obscured by the shadow of his hood, being attacked by Fred Weasley. The other one was Percy Weasley in his distinct horn-rimmed glasses.

"Hello, Minister!" Percy chimed, sending a neat jinx straight at Thicknesse. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

"You're joking, Perce!" Fred shouted in glee as Thicknesse had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him. "You actually are joking, Perce... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-"

But Draco didn't hear him finish the sentence as it was drowned out by the sound of something approaching. His eyes widened, but he was blinded beneath the glare of it. The spell was colossal and about to do a lot of damage to the seventh floor, including those standing on it. There was no time to act, shout or warn; all the wizard could do was haul Harper close to him and quickly cast an umbrella shield charm over the both of them.

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