The Funeral of Heart

Draco was walking along the empty, snow-covered alley, the old alley that led to the Malfoy Manor.

He stopped, suddenly dizzy. His face twitched in pain as he remembered the past. Where was he going now? What was he supposed to do? How to live further? He was alone, even more alone than he had been ever before.

The young man closed his eyes and the memories swept in waves into his mind...

...They had graduated from Hogwarts a year ago...

Draco's heart gave a sudden lurch and squeezed as he heard the familiar jolly, amused voices ringing in his head, injuring his tired mind, cutting his soul with their vividness...

Images changed one another: Weasley hugging Hermione in tenderness; Dumbledore, smiling at the seventh years; crying McGonagall; frowning Snape; Trelawney, her eyes rolling in another fit of "prophesy;" and, finally, Potter. Potter looking at Draco with expectation, looking with warmth and understanding. Draco realized then that he had never had any friends besides Potter. He smirked - an arch nemesis turned into a best friend and something more in a year...

...Everything was planned. They had been preparing for it for twelve bloody months. They tricked other people, concealed, and spent much time together working out the strategy and moves. They didn't tell a soul, because nobody would agree to it, and then it would be too late to do anything. The Ministry was just a crowd of fools.

Draco lied, betrayed, and disguised his true intentions from his Father, from the Death Eaters, and from the Dark Lord himself...

The young man didn't care about the heavy snow that started to fall from the misty gray sky, covering his silvery hair with a sparkling lay of white. He was standing in the middle of the alley. How symbolic - behind him was his past, in front of him was the only future he had - a short future of several hours.

...Harry didn't know that their plan might fail. In fact, they had succeeded...

Draco raised his head, his eyes reflecting the dim color of the sky.

...They learnt to Apparate. They also learnt how to bring those, who weren't able to Apparate, with them. They learnt a few useful tricks. They mastered spells. They read up on the Killing Curses. They did everything they could. Harry dug materials on some archaic form of the Killing Curse that was based on the energy of one's hatred. He was sure that his own feelings for the Lord would be enough to kill him...

"Something had gone wrong," thought Draco, watching the flakes land on his stretched palm.

...They figured out the right time and apparated right into the Riddle house. Voldemort was...well, surprised is not a strong word enough. They had to hurry, because they had only about fifteen minutes for everything...

But...Seven Avada Kedavra-s shot at the same time. Seven voices. One a ringing girl's voice, one a harsh boy's voice, then Harry's deep voice, Draco's drawl... and three men's yells...

Draco fell on his knees - he couldn't bear the memories that were pressing on him, blinding his eyes with hot tears, drowning him.

...Draco turned in one swift moment. It all happened at once: Voldemort collapsed on the floor with an inhuman yell (even the Dark Lord couldn't live four Killing Curses at once, with one very special curse from Harry), but...something had gone wrong...Draco's vision fixed on Granger falling to the floor with a scream, Weasley slowly landing on the floor with a bewildered look, and...Harry...

Harry's face twitched in pain and before Draco could say a word or make a single movement, Potter held out a hand and fell on the floor, his eyes a strange mixture of brightness, once full of life, and emerald green mingled with the dark, dead green of the Killing Curse...

Draco didn't quite recollect what he did next. He seemed to become a concentration of strength, fury, sorrow and pain...

He summoned Harry's wand and, before the three Death Eaters could figure out what had happened and see that their Lord had been eventually murdered, he shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Avada Kedavra Redio Anima Sentium!"

His body jerked forward and his vision disappeared in a haze of green...

He felt streams of his emotions flow into the wands and two rays of green light burst from the tips, darting at the stunned Death Eaters. Draco was screaming, and his voice collided with the screaming pain inside... He tilted his head backwards as his body twitched and his rage, despair and sorrow spilled out of his heart and shot at the three men in black hoods...

The four of them fell on the floor. Draco lay unmoving for several minutes, before the spinning world returned back to stillness. The boy rose from the floor and froze. The green mist had already settled on the old, rust-colored carpet. Draco saw dead Death Eaters, Voldemort, Weasley and Granger. He forced himself to turn his head - Harry was lying without a movement. Draco yelled, clutching his fists and hitting the floor helplessly. He took Harry's hand- it had become such a familiar gesture that year, Draco liked to feel warmth of Harry's palm spread on his own flesh. But now Harry's hand was dead cold and pale.

The world around Draco Malfoy had stopped spinning that day...

...He felt bad. His whole body was aching after the curse he had performed. He had tied Weasley to Granger with a magical rope and was holding them with one hand, while gently hugging Harry's lifeless body close to his chest...

He apparated right into the small empty graveyard, the same graveyard, where Potter's parents lay. He levitated the bodies of the girl and her boyfriend, refusing to let go of Harry and still holding the Gryffindor's body tight. He had spotted a free space. It was a small bare piece of ground among black, frozen trees. Draco thought automatically that perhaps they would make a nice green surrounding in summer and spring. He carried the bodies there and, using certain spells, created two graves. Then he gently laid there Granger and Weasley.

Weasley's voice and Granger's soft happy laughter immediately echoed in his head:

"Nobody will separate you from me, 'Mione!" said Weasley, kissing the girl and she laughed then back.

Draco smirked bitterly - now they would be inseparatable from each other.

...He gritted his teeth firmly and dug a grave for Harry without any magic, breaking his nails and getting bruises from the winter frozen ground.

Draco couldn't stop the tears that were running down his flushed, windblown cheeks. He looked at the three fresh graves and realized that he had just buried his life there, under the stone like soil. He was only a frame for what had once been a living soul. Draco had no purposes in this life...except for revenge.

He had been quick; he didn't want to waste time. He apparated in all the Death Eaters' mansions he knew. He had killed them all before they could react...

Draco's lips curved into something reminiscent of one of his trademark sneers as he remembered the similar expressions on their faces as he dragged out his wand with a movement he had got used to during the past several hours.

Draco had killed the previous day, the day of his deadtime. He had killed far more people he had been planning to kill a few days earlier, during his Life.

He guessed than what exactly had gone wrong. Lucius was the reason. Draco's mind suddenly woke, sending a flash of another event - Lucius standing in Draco's room and looking at his son strangely. Draco remembered that later he couldn't find a parchment with a few notes Harry had sent him with an owl that day. When he was searching for it, he only noticed a small heap of ashes on the table, which he disregarded because he had been burning old parchments several hours before.

The young man unzipped his track jacket and snatched out Harry's wand. It felt weird; it was different from Draco's own wand...but he decided to use Harry's this time.

He straightened up and shook the snow off his hair and shoulders. He continued walking towards the last stop of his route of life...

He must be sure that not a stone of the Manor would remain on its place after his visit.

With a kick the door to Lucius' study flung open and Draco faced his Father sitting in his huge leather armchair. Draco produced a broad, evil grin - his Father didn't know yet...