Wild child

"You're not a murderer, Draco."

Draco wanted to deny it, but he couldn't prove it.At the top of this tower, there are only him and the old man he has been planning to kill for a year. He disarms Dumbledore, and the latter is too weak to support his body. The sound of scuffle comes from tens of feet below came from everywhere, but he was still chatting.

Dumbledore dead, or him and his parents?It's not really a multiple choice question.

But by him?

Draco looked at the trembling staff tip in front of him, and followed it to see his trembling hand.Every cell in him was rebelling against his will, refusing to carry out his commands.

"But I've come this far, haven't I?" he said slowly, trying to sound joyful and confident. "They thought I was going to die before I was done, but I'm still alive...and you're under my control...I'm holding the wand now...you're at my mercy..."

"No, Draco," said Dumbledore quietly, "you are at my mercy now, not me at your mercy."

Draco listened dumbfounded.

He can't.

Draco stopped trembling as the tip of the staff drooped.

She was right, he was a self righteous fool.Crying about destruction and killing all day long, but they don't understand the meaning of death at all.He couldn't even try, the mere thought of causing death himself overwhelmed him.

All he had to do next was jump off the damn tower, he was tired, he had had enough, hope the Dark Lord spared his family—

There was a sound of footsteps thumping up the stairs, and in the blink of an eye, Draco was pulled aside, and four men in black robes broke through the door and swarmed around the wall.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The man's cold voice sounded, and Dumbledore seemed to stay in the air for a second, and then slowly fell on his back like a big tattered doll, fell from the crenel of the fence and disappeared.Draco felt in a trance that his soul was also blown out, he thought it was wrong, he should be the one who fell down.

The memories of that night seemed to have been pulled out of Draco's mind, and he didn't know how he escaped from Hogwarts and how he returned to the Dark Lord.

But the mission was accomplished, and he and his family survived.

Again, Draco watched her fall from the tower.There was no expression on his face, his dark eyes coldly reflected the starless night sky.

He wanted to rush up, but was dragged back by blood-stained hands.

The Weasleys approached him, Potter approached him, Granger approached him, Thomas approached him, McGonagall approached him, Dumbledore approached him...

There are so many people, those who can be named, those who cannot be named, those who wear school uniforms, those who wear wizard robes, and those who wear Muggle costumes... The wounds bitten by the werewolf are bloody, and the burning Fierce Flame changes shape like a ghost ...

I didn't... I didn't... it wasn't me...

There was a cold touch on his neck, and he finally screamed, but it seemed that he couldn't even make a sound smoothly.He made a gurgling sound from the depths of his throat, and a heavy sense of suffocation rushed into his brain...

Draco opened his eyes suddenly, and saw the familiar room, silent and deserted.He breathed greedily, as if every time he inhaled was the last breath of air, he dragged his sweaty body to the still dark window, and opened the window to let the night wind blow away the remaining panic.

He began to think about someone whom he thought he understood completely.

In his—maybe everyone's—eyes, she was strong and rational, and she couldn't hurt anything.Even when she was seriously injured in the Ministry of Magic and was admitted to the school hospital, Draco didn't feel any real panic - of course she would be fine, what situation could she not handle?He let himself wallow in his anger, ignoring the fact that she hadn't woken up for a week.

Draco had gone to see her twice under the pretext of causing trouble for Granger and Weasley, and now the scene was clearly in front of his eyes: she was covered with the blue striped sheet of the school hospital, her eyes closed , looked too pale and quiet under the oblique sunlight in front of the window.

Draco realized death, maybe tomorrow she would fall at the feet of someone he saw every day, her eyes shut shut and never opened again.

Dumbledore won't embrace the whole Great Hall with open arms next year and say "fool, scum, sneeze, wring"; Walked into the same pub... oh, it's not the right time to talk about that, it's not the right time".

She wouldn't smile heartlessly at him, climb on a broom that didn't fit her, or call him "Mr. Slytherin."

she will die.

He has to stop.

In the summer of 17 years old, at exactly one o'clock in the morning, she walked through the thick night.It was neither early nor late, and it happened to be the appointed time. Even in the face of the next conversation, her habit of arriving on time did not change.

Or maybe she didn't value this meeting as much as he did.

Although it was late at night, the vicinity of the train station was not so deserted.All kinds of Muggle vehicles he could recognize or not recognized stopped for a short time or sped away, and the headlights left a changing stream of warm colors on her light gray hair.In the shadow of the backlight, her dark eyes are as deep as the surrounding night, and all the noises and hurried travelers between the eyes are receded into the blurred background.

Draco looked at her carefully.

The figure outlined by the black shirt and the strange blue canvas trousers is a bit thinner. Although he has never been to the Muggle streets, Draco can still guess that her appearance at this time is not the same as those ordinary Muggle girls who can be seen everywhere. No difference.He knew that she deliberately appeared in front of him in such a posture, which was a silent announcement.

Her eyes paused at the neat hair. She never liked long hair, and she didn't hide it.She loathes anything that is gendered: long hair, skirts, makeup...all of which make her feel weak.But Draco loves her hair, he will appreciate their flowing moonlight shine under the light when he is watching her in a daze, and gently comb them when kissing or cuddling each other, so that the cool hair The silk is twisted between the fingers, and this pet-like grooming method is the most effective way to relax both of them.

It was always obvious why she grew her hair long, and the same reason she cut it short.

This summer vacation was not peaceful, and from the dusty look on her face, it could be seen that she had been traveling for a long time, and she must have experienced many fierce battles.But she walked right up to him, not poking around with her wand in the vigilant way an experienced warrior should have been with all the shrewdness she was known for.

He will not hurt her, even if everything has been shattered, this is still a tacit understanding between the two.

Draco was suddenly grateful for his choice that Christmas Eve.

They left the street side by side and turned into a remote alley where they could talk.On the way, they held hands like a normal couple. The movement was very natural, but the moment their skin touched, they both trembled slightly.

She wouldn't go with him, Draco knew that, and had given up long ago.He just wants her to go far away, it doesn't matter where she wants to go, to see the snow-covered plateau she is looking forward to or to eat the baked snails she is not used to, as long as she leaves this battlefield.Before coming, he had made up his mind that if those people could not save themselves, he could even help her move her Muggle family out.His parents are already safe, as long as she can stay out of danger, he has nothing more to ask for.

This meeting alone is enough to be condemned as a major crime of collaborating with the enemy. He knew that she fully understood what kind of risk he was taking, and he saw the unconcealable emotion on her face.

But what's the use?Questioning, yelling, kissing, and begging, he did everything he could, but she still gave a negative answer, which was so peaceful that there was no doubt about it.

A piercing whistle sounded from the street behind several layers of walls, and she suddenly woke up and turned around, as if she was about to cut something.The first step he took hesitated for a moment, Draco thought she would turn around, but her back left his sight slowly but without hesitation.

Draco was huddled under the bookcase, bloody and terrible.She was badly hurt, but Draco knew she was going to be fine, even if she was unconscious, the elbow she gave her at parting was enough to make him half numb, his girl was just that amazing.The worried calls of his mother and father and Bellatrix's furious screams formed the background sound of his world. He had suppressed the desire to vomit so that the body at his feet screamed at the Dark Lord's request, and then the body It will definitely be replaced by himself.He would die in this mansion, but that would not be her end.

Draco put his hands over his head and covered his face with the wide sleeves of his robes, because he couldn't stop smiling.

Then, seemingly in the next second, the Dark Lord took Potter's body and trampled on the already messy Hogwarts.

"I won't go with you until hell freezes over. Dumbledore's Army!"

There is no longer a savior, and the final decisive battle begins.

Spells, shattering, running, crying, the screams of dying people, all the sounds you can think of representing chaos and killing are gathered in Hogwarts Castle, which was once the last line of defense between peace and war. Fierce tide.Draco huddled in horror in a corner that was only a wall away from the melee but hadn't been affected yet, like a survivor trapped in a small piece of high ground that was about to be swallowed by a tsunami.He dared not go out, it would be suicidal to step into such a battle without his wand, and neither side would applaud his presence.

Draco closed his eyes tightly, his body swayed with the tremors of the ground, and he muttered to pray to some god who didn't know the hell.

let me die.let me live.

Get it over with, please.

Yet a certain god in a good mood seemed unwilling to stop teasing him.

"Raging flames! Flaming flames!" came the hoarse shout, and Draco was startled, "Where the hell are the idiots throwing devil's nets in such a place!"

She hopped into view, blood dripping from a horrific gash on her left knee and dripping down her trousers.Banging against the wall, she didn't even wait for the wall to take the weight of her body before she began to look around with her wand, looking for enemies that might suddenly appear from this obvious place.

Then the tip of her stick pointed at him logically, and he hoped that she followed the conditioned reflex to knock him out.

"You... why are you still here?" The crazy light in her eyes faded away, and she recovered her human voice, which was slightly distorted by the long roar before.

Draco opened his mouth but couldn't make a sound. He had never been so embarrassed: they were equally embarrassed, covered in gunpowder and scarred, but she was fighting and he was running away.

"Missed your wand?" As usual, she saw the answer at a glance.

Draco nodded.

"Oh my God." She vigorously raked her messy short hair twice, and she returned to her usual nonchalant look, "Here."

Draco froze to catch the wand she was throwing, while the man he was staring at had already bent down and tried to heal his knee.

"I take my wand away every time I see someone knocked down, I don't know why no one thought of that." The repair worked, at least it stopped the bleeding.She cut strips of cloth from the skirt and wrapped them tightly around her knees, talking so fast it almost sounded like they were in another midnight duel appointment and she had to get it over with before class. "Your parents are looking for you. The last time I saw them was on the stairs to the west of the hall. Take them and hurry, it seems that you can Apparate now."

The flames and heat waves have subsided, and the scorched walls can be faintly seen around the corner, and the influx of air is pungent and unpleasant.By the time she said the last sentence, she had already dragged her left leg and moved in the direction she just came in, as if she couldn't wait to join the battlefield again.

Unprepared from her back, Draco tightened his wand grip.It was easy to knock her out and take her away, he didn't know why he reached out and pulled her like a stupid Muggle, and what he couldn't believe was that he pulled her.

The passionate and desperate kiss that followed was one he will never forget.

"Go, I'm going to keep fighting," she said, panting slightly from the suffocation just now. "Take care of yourself and, your family."

She grabbed his hand with her other and put it back in place, looking him in the eye all the while.

Take care of yourself and wait for me.At that subtle pause, he recognized her mouth.

Even if she was not on the battlefield where life and death were unknown, she would never say these words.

But he heard it.

The legend of Fanny Sanchez kicked off from this war.

Witnesses of many wars many years later can still remember the secret publication called EYE, and their market value has multiplied hundreds of times. EYE became a source of support for many people during those chaotic 9 months, not only because it continued to expose people's truths hidden by the praise of prejudice and persecution, but also because it was like a ray of fresh water for the already crazy world. Inject some sanity.

Calm, objective, and fair, never stand on the side that is considered correct to condemn or praise, and never make the slightest concession to the truth, it is just a statement.Standing on the sidelines, as the name suggests, it really looks like her.

The peculiar relationship between her and Rita Skeeter that lasted for nearly half a century was formed during this period. She really had the ability to make that distorted and bombastic reporter cut out the flashy rhetoric. In about half a year, the two A woman who does not know how to give up fights side by side.

After the war, she was awarded the Order of Merlin, like most members of the main resistance army.

This is what she deserves.Ordering raw materials, editing, accepting orders, writing manuscripts, reviewing, shipping, and delivering information...Maintaining all of these secret operations, the slightest mistake is the freedom and life of dozens of people, only she herself understands that she has spent more than half a year. What kind of pressure did you bear.

Draco also became a frequent visitor to the Ministry of Magic, only to go on trial.The hideous mark on his left arm is evidence that cannot be washed away, and the disaster of prison can be avoided, which is unpleasant, but he knows that he deserves it.

But he was saved again, although he thought he didn't have the qualifications.Sometimes he would laugh at himself secretly, thinking that the savior saved the world was not busy enough, so he came to help the enemy again.

Harry Potter testified that he lowered his wand when he could have killed Dumbledore; Harry Potter testified that he did not identify the captured Granger and Weasley in Malfoy Manor; Harry Potter testified that Narcissa Malfoy had lied to the Dark Lord about the fact that the Savior was not dead.

His mother, his dear mother.

Draco stared blankly at the quiet, pale woman a few feet away, her chin still raised haughtily, her eyes straight ahead.Both her husband and son were on the trial bench, and Narcissa was sitting only with the exclusive defender of the Malfoy family.

Draco has always loved his mother, but apart from his mother's identity, in his eyes, Narcissa is just a dignified and dignified hostess and a wife who is obedient to her husband.He has always paid more attention to his father. He imitated Lucius' arrogance and smoothness when he was profitable, hoping to have the same fame, wealth and power as him one day.

But at that moment, this woman looked directly at the Dark Lord and said three words that could change the fate of the wizarding world: "He is dead."

He should have understood that everything he had pursued had nothing to do with whether a person was strong or not.

Potter's testimony was undoubtedly powerful. After a short debate, Draco was acquitted, and Lucius was sentenced to 18 months for his previous attacks on Muggles and participation in the First World War of the Ministry of Magic.Thanks to the wisdom of the Dark Lord, he had already seen that the so-called loyalty of the Malfoys to him was only out of profit and self-preservation, and he did not value them more than a domestic child in terms of using their wealth and connections. elf.The post-war reconstruction work has just started, and there are a large number of fugitives and real felons who are still in trouble and need to be dealt with urgently. The magic department does not pay much attention to dealing with the passive elements among the Death Eaters.

Unshackled, Draco walked towards his mother as calmly as possible.She caressed his cheek with the eternal self-control in front of people, and the familiar and soft hand was trembling.The cold sweat on his back and palms was cold and sticky, while the skin in other places was dry and stinging, and vague discussions were buzzing in his ears.

When he finally remembered that he was no longer a prisoner awaiting trial and should look up, he immediately caught her gaze—he was surprised that he hadn't noticed her before, because she was sitting in the first row closest to Narcissa. that location.

When she met his gaze, her bloodless lips moved, but in the end she said nothing.