Shattered Glass

AN: The day after begins and our boys are finally together. Yay! But is it a happy ending? If you've read any of my other stories you'll know I abhor happy endings. There must be plenty of death blood and pain. The question is if this story has enough already. I think not...

The Day After:

The outskirts of the Forbidden Forest were much more welcoming in the daylight. Instead of the pale light from the waxing crescent moon that had illuminated it last time they were there, the sun now shone brightly, its rays unblocked by the few wisps of clouds. The thick canopy of the woods caught the light and formed dappled patterns on the leaf-strewn ground and gave the light a fresh green tint.

Draco and Harry were ambling along, walking very slowly, as they really couldn't have gone any faster even if they had wanted to. As it was Madam Pomfrey had barely let them out of the hospital wing. Though they were recovering it would still be a while before they were both back to normal. The poison, though now expelled from both of their systems, had still left lingering damage that would take a very long time to heal completely.

They had their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, almost like comrades in arms, except they were holding each other a little too close for it to appear at all platonic to the casual observer. They were conversing quietly, really getting to know each other for the first time since they'd first met five years before.

They entered the clearing where it had all began and paused, letting memories wash over them. The circle where the poison had fallen was still there. The grass that had once appeared dead, though, was now brighter and healthier than the plants all around the patch. They stood over it, looking down at the small shards of glass that were half buried by the greenery.

"So what are we doing here?" Draco asked, not feeling very comfortable. Being here brought to mind thoughts of his father.

"We're waiting for Ron and Hermione. They should be here soon."

Draco sighed. "Do we have to? Just because I worked with them to get you better doesn't mean I like them or anything."

Harry poked at him. "Too bad. They're my friends so you'd better get used to it."

"But there're so many better things to do with our time." Draco gave him a suggestive look. Harry giggled; something that sounded just wrong coming from his mouth and should never ever be repeated.

"You're horrible," he said, laughing as burrowed tighter into his arms.

"Oh come on," Draco wheedled.

"No, we have to wait for Ron and Hermione."

"They're not here, though, are they? They probably aren't even coming."

There was a not so polite cough from behind them. "We are coming. Actually, we're already here," Hermione said, a very odd expression on her face. Ron was trying hard to not explode, or to lose his breakfast.

"Oh, hi," Harry said, turning red as he moved away from Draco slightly.

"Could you wait until after we talk about this before you get all... couple-ish? It's just too weird." Ron complained. Draco's expression darkened and Ron tried to make rather hasty amends. "Not that I disapprove or anything. Well, actually I do, but that doesn't mean..." He sighed. "I'm just putting my foot in my mouth aren't I?"

Hermione patted him on the arm. "It's all right, Ron. We understand. That's just what you do best." Ron glared at her and Harry laughed at the two of them.

"It's all right," Draco said quietly, his eyes dancing. "I understand." They all looked at him, shocked, and he smiled at them. "Hey, if I ruled my life by popular agreement I would never have gotten to where I am today."

"The son of a Death Eater..." Ron pointed out.

"Being in mortal danger..." Hermione added.

"Hated by about half the school..." Harry said. Draco made an impatient little noise.

"No, none of that really matters. I meant I wouldn't be here, in the arms of the most divine creature under the sun." He smiled down at Harry, who crinkled his nose.

"I'm a creature now?" he asked. Draco swatted at him.

"You know what I meant!" They laughed, play fighting, smacking at each other, Hermione smiling at them. Ron's cheek twitched with a repressed smile that refused to come out for Draco. He was a Malfoy after all, no matter how much he'd changed or how much... Harry loved him.

"Okay, stop it you two," Hermione said, playing referee, pushing between them before it ended up in something she'd really rather not see at the moment. Ron probably would have had a fit, seeing the way they were looking at each other. But thankfully he had ambled away, keeping his back to them, not really wanting to see more of this then he had to.

"Hey," Harry pouted. "What'd you do that for?"

Hermione gave him a pointed glare. "If you want to do that, do it when I'm not around, or anybody else is for that matter, and when we don't have work to do."

"You're no fun," Draco complained.

"To bad. If you keep up with this you're going to make Ron sick." Harry looked over to see Ron, who was pointedly keeping his back to them.

Draco followed his gaze. "Serves the homophobe right," he grumbled. Ron's ears turned red.

"I am not!" he cried, turning back to them. "It's just... you... and Harry. You're a Malfoy." He made a frustrated/disgusted noise.

"Oh, so it's nothing against the concept as a whole, it's just me in particular?"

"Yeah, that's about right," Ron grumbled. "But if Harry, well, you know, I guess I have to be understanding and all that. Doesn't mean I like you."

"The feeling's mutual." Draco put his hand out in front of him to shake Ron's. "But we have to get along, at least, for Harry."

"Fine, for Harry." The two shook hands.

"Thank you," Harry whispered to both of them, his head falling to rest momentarily on Draco's shoulder.

"All right," Hermione said, beaming at them. "Now we have to get to work."

"What're we doing?" Draco said, leaning lazily on a tree.

Hermione pointed to the circle of grass where the poison had fallen. "We have to figure out why that happened. Why did it make them healthier?"

Harry shook his head. "But it didn't, at first. They died almost immediately."

"Do you think it could have had anything to do with you two getting better?" Ron offered.

"But that doesn't make any sense. There's no connection between them that would make the plants act like that," Hermione countered. This conversation went on for some time but Draco didn't add anything to it, just listened and thought.

"I think I know why," he finally said softly. The others looked up at him. "My father once taught me that one "bad" side affect of dark magic is that though its temporary affect is generally evil the long term one tends not to be." He paused. "When placed in the darkness one understands the worth of the light and uses it to the best possible advantage. Every little ray of light then makes you stronger."

"So you're saying that by killing them, when the new grass grew back it made it even stronger and healthier?" Hermione asked slowly, pondering this.

Draco shrugged at her. "It makes sense." They all stared down at the circle in silence, contemplating what Draco had said.

"I hate to say this." Ron looked as if each word were being pulled out of him by force. "But I think Malfoy... may be right."

"Ooo, alert the press! A Weasley and a Malfoy agree!" Hermione crowed.

"Well you don't have to make a scene," Ron grumbled. "I don't intend to make a habit out of it." Hermione and Harry laughed at the disgusted looks Ron and Draco were shooting at each other.

"You're such babies," Harry commented, grinning slightly uneasily, hoping the joke wouldn't turn serious. Draco seemed to notice Harry's discomfiture and suddenly smiled easily, going over to wrap an arm gently around Harry's shoulders.

"So, anything interesting happen in school lately that we missed?" he asked lightly. Hermione caught eagerly at this new subject and Ron reluctantly followed suit.

They'd been chatting for over a half an hour when the eagle owl landed in a tree next to them. It gave its distinctive deep, brief call and then seemed to chuckle quietly to itself. Its bright orange eyes seemed to glow as it glared at them. A large, ominous looking letter was attached to the bird's leg.

Draco paled visibly and he started to shake. He backed up into a tree, his eyes wide. Harry, seeing this reaction, took the letter from the bird, which promptly flew off with one last backward glare. Harry came over to Draco and wrapped his arm around his shoulder, putting the letter into his shaking hands. Draco broke the seal on the back after only a few tries. He pulled the letter out, letting his head fall against Harry's chest.

"Dear Draco," he read out shakily. "It has come to my attention that Potter is still alive. Very odd rumors have come to me here about both of you being deathly sick. There is even one unbelievable story that says you risked your life to heal the boy. I would hear the true story from you to see where the blame lies. I hope you haven't failed me. The attack on Hogwarts depends on this vital link. I do not need to warn you about the consequences of failure. I hope for your own sake that the boy dies soon, or that he is already dead. You will not like the alternative. Sincerely yours, your father, Lucius Malfoy."

Harry held him closer as the boy began to shake harder, his breath coming in slight gasps as he said "oh god, oh god," over and over again with very little variation. Harry tried to reread the letter but it had crumpled up in Draco's hands, blocking the words from his view. Ron and Hermione were silent behind them.

"Oh god, Harry, I can't believe this," Draco gasped out. "I can't believe I forgot him. I was just so happy, for the first time, and I forgot. And he's going to find me and torture me and he'll kill you and..."

"Shush, Draco, it's all right. We'll face this together. Everything will be all right," Harry soothed.

"No," Draco said urgently, lifting his distraught grey eyes to meet Harry's green ones. "You don't understand. They're going to attack the school. They have some plan. They're going... they're going to k-kill everybody. Especially you, Harry. I was told... I was lied to. They forced me to give them information on the defenses of the schools; things like where the teachers slept and when. My father told me that if I didn't I would suffer for it but if I did then I would be saved when the inevitable destruction of the school came. What cowardly path do you think I chose?"

"It doesn't matter. It's going to be all right," Harry repeated, even though he was shaking inside from the fear in his love's eyes. "Now we have a warning and we can protect ourselves. When was this attack going to take place?"

Draco thought for a moment. "September 21," he finally said with some measure of surety. Hermione and Ron paled.

"Are you sure about that?" Hermione asked quietly.

Draco gave her an odd look. "I'm pretty sure." He closed his eyes, thinking. "I was given the potion on the tenth. Harry was supposed to die ten days later..." He gasped as he realized where this train of thought was bringing him. "It's tonight! They're going to attack tonight on the full moon!"

The next few minutes were filled with mindless babble as they all generally freaked out. But Hermione soon brought them to order and a "plan" or sorts was created. It consisted of this: go up to the school, tell Dumbledore, and hope they don't die. They thought this a fairly good plan considering the circumstances. They hurried up to the school filled with dread on what that night would bring.

* * * *

Madam Pomfrey had descended on Harry and Draco as soon as they'd entered the school. She had scolded them thoroughly, refusing to listen to a word they were saying as she dragged them off by their ears (not literally) to the Hospital Wing. The last thing they saw before the door closed behind them was Hermione and Ron standing outside, looking lost. It was up to them to alert the school.

Harry and Draco were sitting by the window, their arms wrapped around each other as they stared out at the grounds. The moment would have been picturesque if not for the threat that hung over them. They didn't talk; there was no need. They only sat there trying to enjoy what, for all they knew, could be some of their last moments together.

Madam Pomfrey had just gotten the news and she was hastily making ready for whatever amount of wounded would be flooding into the room. She was fussing to herself about not having enough bandages but the boys paid her no mind. If the night went as the enemy planned then there would be no wounded, only dead. No one would be able to be treated here; none would even come. Their bodies would be burned, maybe, or buried in a mass grave. Or maybe they would be left out to be eaten by the carrion birds. It wouldn't matter to them, anyway. So there was no point in bandages; Avada Kadavra leaves no wounds.

Suddenly a large, green light appeared over the woods, faint compared with the bright full moon that shone overhead. The Dark Mark. They were here; they had announced their presence. The two boys took up their wands and stood before the doors to the Hospital Wing, ready to defend whatever refugees did make it up here with their lives.

Screams came from the floors below, the frantic, fearful cries of a brutal awakening of a young child. They had never seen someone come at them with death in their eyes. One cry was cut short with a gurgling noise, of which neither boy wanted to know the cause of.

It was hell, sitting up there hearing screams and curses, hearing people dying, but not being allowed to help. They had been told not to leave the wing on pain of death. A very ironic statement, when considered, as death was the very thing they would have left to face. But neither dared to go against Dumbledore's orders, not when he had on his mantle of power, when he seemed to shine with magic. He had been truly impressive.

Frantic, worried thoughts ran through Harry's mind. Where were Ron and Hermione? Were they all right? Were they even still alive?

A voice crying out a curse sounded from right outside the door, followed by a loud thud. Both boys were left to wonder who had fallen, or who had been left standing. Which of their friends were out there dying? Which of their schoolmates? How few of them would be left alive after this ordeal? How many empty seats would there be if classes ever did resume? How many faces free of the tears of mourning?

A desolate future opened wide its doors in their minds, showing them a glimpse of what might be. What very well could be, if this night went to the enemy as it was threatening to do.

All of their fighting may have been for naught, all of their planning and hoping and dreaming. And loving. They might very well lose it all within the confines of this one night, caught up in this all but inevitable doom.

Terror, sheer and stark and unfamiliar in its intensity, took hold of the both. Death hung heavily in the air, the smell of it sharp and unpleasant and unavoidable. And they both knew that this could very well be their last moments alive, together. Their last chance for whatever else had been left unsaid between them.

"Harry," Draco said softly, gripping his hand. Another scream, the last sound from the throat of another dead student, ripped through the air. They both flinched. "I'm sorry for everything I ever did. I'm sorry that my father's out there. I'm sorry I got us into this mess. I'm sorry I wasn't strong, like you. I'm so sorry."

Harry gave his hand a squeeze. "I love you," he answered, equally soft. "And that matters more than any of that. You did what you had to do. And now we'll face the end, together."

Soft, happy tears flowed down Draco's face. He made peace with himself and his past at that moment, in those words. "I love you Harry, forever and always."

They stood before the door, hand in hand, waiting for the end. The screaming slowly died down and was replaced by the moans of the few wounded. Madam Pomfrey was gone, apparently to help the students they could hear so well. And when the doors finally opened with a large, dramatic bang just as the clock struck midnight, they were ready for the worst and would have faced death together, hand in hand. Even if they were never asked to, they knew that; they would always know that. Even if always was only the next few seconds. Does it matter who opened the door?

AN: So, I know you're probably thinking dark, murderous thoughts at me right now, but this is the end. The clock struck midnight so the day after the ten days is over, therefore ending the story. Give it any ending you want. Who will open the door? Will it be Dumbledore, Voldemort or somebody else? I warned you about happy endings. Even if you hate the ending, please review as I'm trying to improve my writing and feedback really helps. Thanks for reading my little fic, my first ever chapter story. Check out my other stories. If they aren't already posted then they're coming soon. I have over a hundred more finished, not all H/D but a good deal of them are (I know, pathetic, isn't it?). Thank you for getting this far and thank you Dray, for your daily 'Did you write anymore?' which kept me going. You were actually helpful with this one. Shock! Oh, and thank you oh so much for making me an insane shipper. It's all your fault! Also, special thanks to Sam, who actually beta-ed! OMG!! It's amazing; I got a beta that actually fit the job description! Thank you so much Sam!