The Price of Light | drarry

eight | the curse

May 2002

Harry's whole body jerks. "You think I should WHAT?!" he all but shrieks.

But Draco's face is calm, serene. "Presumably you know more about these things than I do, Mr. Horcrux-Hunting Auror,"  he says, "But I was under the impression that a Horcrux was kind of a bad thing."

"It's the most evil piece of Dark Magic that exists," says Harry incredulously. "So yeah, kind of a bad thing."

"And if I'm not mistaken," Draco continues lazily, "They ought to be destroyed."

"Beyond the bounds of physical or magical repair," Harry responds. His voice is quiet, uncertain. Hollow.

Draco, meanwhile, is overcome with disgust. With Lucius' soul trapped inside of him he's now every inch his father, and the idea repulses him. It creates a new immediate threat, he realises; and voices his thoughts quickly.

"If my father lives on through me," he says, grey eyes earnest and hard, "He will be wanting to get back to me soon, to recover the piece of soul in me - don't you think?"

Harry swears and runs a hand roughly through his hair. "Is it not enough that we're running from my side?" he asks. "Now the Dark wizards want us too?"

But he has to admit Draco's right. To stop the uprising in the outside world, they may have to kill what's inside Draco.

Harry wracks his brains trying to remember exactly how the situation played out when he himself was a Horcrux. The Killing Curse was used on him, he knows that. And he drifted momentarily to another plane of existence.. but was permitted to return. There's no guarantee it'd be the same for Draco.

Maybe it would uncomplicate things if he dies anyway, says the little voice. Harry represses a shudder.

"How do you think we should do it?" he asks in a shaky voice.

And from his robe pocket, Draco draws out a wand.

Harry explodes.

"You had my fucking wand all this time?!" he screams, launching himself at the other man with all his strength. He bowls him right over and the two are instantly on the cold ground, struggling hard. Twigs and stones push painfully into their skin but they barely notice.

"Of course I bloody kept it," Draco chokes, wielding the instrument as far from Harry as he can manage. "It's almost broken but might still work in an emergency- ow, Potter, you're really hurting me -"

"That's the idea," Harry snarls. He pushes his  knee harder into Draco's ribs to feel him squirm. "You're such a thieving bastard, Malfoy. Imagine keeping my wand on you all this time!!"

Draco forces his body upwards in one hard thrust which knocks Harry effectively off him and sends him sprawling onto the ground. The wand stays triumphantly in his left hand, which he holds up above his head where he knows Harry won't be able to reach it.

"Vile - evil - pathetic - thieving - scumbag!" Harry pants furiously, pushing Draco hard in the chest.

Malfoy barely reacts. "Get it all out, Potter," he sighs. "It won't change anything. I doubt you can use it anyway."

"I'd like to try!" Harry snaps.

"And call your Auror friends? I bet you would!" Draco scoffs. "No good, though. Watch this-"

With a wave of his hand he attempts to conjure different coloured sparks, then the Auror signals, then a simple Lumos, but nothing more than a feeble fizzle of red can be seen from the tip of the wand.

"How do you expect me to kill you with that, then?" Harry demands. Give it to me now, you rat, he thinks. I almost wouldn't mind doing it now.

"Avada Kedavra is more of a personal magical expression than a wanded one," Draco shrugs. "It does require a wand, but that's just a channel. Far more important is the intent and the wandless magical ability. How are your wandless skills, Potter?"

"Pretty decent," Harry admits. You don't become an Auror without being exceptional with and without your wand.

But presumably Draco knows this already from his years as a Death Eater, he realises. And presumably he knows a lot about the Killing Curse too.

"The wand is just a channel," Draco repeats, and his arm is steady as he offers it out.

Harry takes in the image in bewilderment. The trust that suddenly exists between them is catastrophic - Draco, offering him the wand. Asking, no, demanding, that he do his worst with it.

"I don't entirely know what I should do," Harry admits anxiously as his fingers fold around the splintered neck of the wand. "We don't even know for sure that you're a Horcrux-"

One look at Draco's face stops that train of thought dead in its tracks.

"I am," he insists in a quiet little voice. "It hurt. I remember."

Harry's hit with another odd pull right from his core towards Draco's, a magnetism that's almost impossible to ignore no matter how much he resents it. "I can't do it," he whispers. "Horcruxes must be damaged completely beyond physical or magical repair. I can't guarantee you'd come back - I'm an Auror, for Merlin's sake! I can't be responsible for a death!"

"Even mine?" Draco asks.

Especially yours, Harry wants to reply. Because all of a sudden all he can see is this selfless, stupid, maddening, beautiful boy stood before him offering up his life. And when he imagines the broken body, he has to force down more than bile.

There's no world around them, only their souls suspended in time.

"Kill it," Draco says. His arms are open wide, his chest open and ready. A sacrifice. "Please."

"Will you come back?" Harry's voice trembles. Keep it professional, says the voice in his head, but that's such a ludicrous suggestion he almost laughs. Professional... in an abandoned forest ... trying to kill his old school enemy. Yeah, right.

"I'll do my best," Draco shrugs. He's not sure why Potter cares, but he means what he says. He doesn't much care if he lives or dies for himself, but for someone else... maybe that's worth sticking around for.

With this assurance, Harry raises the wand level, and aims it towards Draco's chest.

"It's not me," Draco reminds him. "It's my father. It's the darkest of Dark Magic. You have to do this. You have to kill me."

Harry nods. He squeezes his eyes shut, takes a deep breath, and forces them open again. Swaps Draco's head in his mind for Lucius's, and his body too. Better.

Another breath.

"Avada Kedavra!" he yells, and green light crackles in an arc from the wand. It doesn't look like much, but evidently it's enough, because when the daze of the light fades from Harry's retinas, he can see the scene before him very clearly.

Draco's on the ground, crumpled and still.

There's no perceptible movement in his chest.

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a/n: sorry for the late update ! it's a busy time of year and i want to keep this fun for me so i won't be churning out the updates as fast as with the others (sorry if i'm repeating myself!!)

lots of love to anyone who reads this though, i really appreciate it!

~ paradisedraco