Lost

Chapter Eighteen and Nineteen

When the S*** hits the Fan! Beware

Cold, glacier eyes gazed out intrepidly upon the world before them. Severe and sour, that blue-grey gaze soon fell upon a point of interest. A tower. Tall, dark, and solid, the building loomed out of the darkness, seeming to be rooted into the very earth, it's tall spire shooting up towards the cloudy sky. Kicking a stone away, Draco stood up from his crouch, and took a step forward, knowing that the tower was where Harry was imprisoned.

However, all traces of grace slipped from Draco Malfoy as he lost his footing on the mountain of gravel he was perched upon, sliding to fall ungainly-like upon a rock. Snarling, he got up, brushed himself off, and began walking towards the tower.

Damnit. Rescuers shouldn't have to walk. If only they didn't have magical alarms surrounding the place, I'd Apparate. Damn them all. Damn them all to hell.

-----*-----

"Don't move. Not an inch, Harry."

Peeling his ash covered gloves off, Draco rubbed his hands against each other, blowing to get them warm. Upon first sight of Harry, it had broken him to see the boy. Dirt covering almost every inch of his skin, the boy lay, a pile of bones and skin, barely clothed, his breath coming in short gasps. For a terrifying moment, Draco had thought him dead. But upon hearing Draco's voice, Harry had awoken, and the glaze of what Draco knew to be very powerful, very dangerous dark magic left Harry's eyes.

Smirking mirthlessly at the troll that stood in front of Harry, Draco drawled, "Well, dispatching this little bugger will be a piece of pie. Easier than the fires of hell I had to go through to even get into this damn tower."

Pointing his hand at the troll, Draco closed his eyes, focusing on the power inside him, his aura; he could feel it, as the magic, powerful yet light, built up, and then shot forth from his hand as he cried out, "Exardesco!" Harry stared as the troll blocking his way burst into flames, yelling. At the commotion, chaos broke forth, and as the sound of marching feet was heard, Harry hurried past the smoking troll, taking shelter in Draco as Voldemort's minions began to cancel the many locking spells on the door. Looking from the door to Harry, Draco took hold of the Gryffindor's hand, and gaze piercing, asked solemnly, "Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"No, really Harry. Do you trust me?"

Not even a moment passed by, not a flicker of hesitation passed through that jade gaze. "Yes!"

"Okay then..." Draco turned around just in time to put up a shield as the monsters came, his hand gliding over an invisible surface as he seemed to paint the air around them stiff. Turning back to Harry, Draco pointed down, thousands of feet below, yelling, "JUMP!"

Harry had no time to ask, no time to doubt, as Draco pulled him along just as an explosion of magic burst behind them. Draco even managed to fall with grace, looking elegant, his green cloak billowing out behind him. Seeing Harry's eyes wide with terror, he said, "Let me guess, Harry...you were going to ask how we avoid getting our guts splattered down there?" He pointed down.

"Well...yeah..."

"Here's the answer, Harry..."

Harry looked up, gaping, as a dragon, ebony in color, suddenly flew below them, looking upwards. But it wasn't a normal dragon. Rather than a lizard with wings, this dragon looked more serpentine, it's wings longer and thinner than most dragons Harry had seen. It glanced at Harry, and then, slit pupils glowing, it looked at Draco. With a blink of an eyelid, Harry soon found himself sitting in front of Draco, on the dragon's back, which was slippery and smooth, a very precarious seat. Hair being blown back by the dragon's breath, he sat still in awe. As Draco wrapped his arms tightly around Harry's waist, hands holding the reins, he said, "Okay, here goes!" Speaking to the creature in Parseltongue, Draco rested his chin on Harry's shoulder as they began their journey. Pointing to a mountain, on the top of which was a spiral of thousands of stairs and then a deep violet colored castle, he said, "That's where we're going."

-----*-----

Gaping in awe, Harry was oblivious to the pain of having to squeeze through a narrow space, dazzled by his surroundings. He and Draco were simultaneously sliding sideways through a smooth glittery crystal hallway of the cave they were in. After exploring the utterly empty castle, they had found a stairway leading downwards, into a cave full of magical pools. Protruding from the cave floor and ceilings were variegated sized stalactites and stalagmites, which glowed with crystal beauty, stunning Harry's eyes.

The pools rippled mauve, silver, emerald, magenta, golden, each one a different color. The cave walls, rising many feet above them, were smooth, and glittered, somehow shining light in the darkness with their glow. Upon touching a stalactite against Draco's protest, Harry had found it to be rough as sandpaper. However, they had slid down to walk in the dry riverbed, and now the cave walls were cold, and smoother than glass to touch.

Harry snapped back to reality, as Draco suddenly grabbed his hand, saying, "He's here. Voldemort...I sense him..." And indeed, Harry's scar began hurting violently as they cautiously proceeded further. As he expected, they soon emerged from the narrow cave hallway, into a huge, dark chamber. Every word echoed against the cave walls, making it spooky and all the more unnerving. Suddenly, light came forth from nowhere...

And standing there, grinning at them, a light, somehow dark, glowing from his hand, was the evil serpentine face of Lord Voldemort. Draco knew for a fact that this was the official end of the war. They'd been through battles; now came the last one. This would be the final episode, the number one in the countdown of who would win and who would die!