Dedicated to the wonderful BlueSphinx.
WARNING! This story is a whole lot confusing, just the way she likes it!
(But for those who care, I'll include an explanation at the end).
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. I know it's boring, but it is the truth.
No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
I. Need
Right now, nothing else mattered. There was one goal, and one goal only. One reason to exist, to live, to breathe. No thoughts, no feelings, nothing else. Just one purpose, one destination.
Get there.
She was running, as fast as she could. Through the darkness, through the shadows, through the enemy lair. Through the battlefield. The deserted battlefield, only occasionally lit by stray curses, beams of colourful light shooting through the air like falling stars. That didn't make them any less dangerous, and the ostensible emptiness didn't make the field any safer, either. It was one thing to see your enemies, face them, duel them, but it was something quite else to have them lurk in the shadows, in the darkness around you, ready to strike the moment you looked away. Circling you like predators, biding their time, their opportunity, their lucky chance.
And the battlefield was not empty. It was the cradle of the Fallen, or perhaps those who pretended to be fallen, lying there on the ground, silent, lifeless – but all it took them was to raise their wands and mutter one well-aimed curse.
Her only defense was her speed. Keep moving. Run as fast as wind. Never stop, never falter, never hesitate. Run. Past the bodies, over them, ducking when a curse flew by, throwing herself to the ground if needed, but get up the next moment and continue running. Keep moving. Keep running.
Get there. Get there on time. Before it's too late.
Run.
The horizon was glowing with unnatural luminescence. She knew what it was – she knew exactly what it was. This battlefield was deserted, but somewhere else the fight was still hot and fresh. Somewhere, people were fighting, somewhere, people were dying.
And somewhere, two arch enemies were facing each other, engaged in the last duel, last battle, last fight. The outcome of which, whatever it would be, would change everything. Everything. The battle which would decide the fate of the world, the fate of mankind, the fate of all and everything. The last battle.
She had to get there before it was too late.
He will not face him alone. They promised to be there for him, and they would keep their promises. No matter what.
It was like a dream – a nightmare to be more exact. It seemed to her that she had been running for hours, perhaps even days. The actual fighting before, shooting spells right and left, and dodging those rushing at her from every possible direction, hearing shouts and cries, of victory and of death, trying not to think about whose life was claimed with that last scream, concentrating on staying alive but also trying to look out for others, aiming, casting, missing and hitting – all that seemed a lifetime ago. Perhaps it was, perhaps it was someone else who had done all that, and all she had ever done was run.
Run and never get there. It seemed so close, just there, past those trees – not more than two hundred steps away, and yet, somehow she couldn't get there. As if she was running but not moving, or perhaps the fight and the glow were sliding away from her. As if it was unreachable.
She doubled her speed, briefly wondering where had she gotten the energy to do so, and why hadn't she dropped dead of exhaustion already. But she was in no position to complain about the unexpected flow of strength, she needed every last bit of it, especially when they were moving further away, as it seemed to her.
She concentrated on the glow, the unearthly light, and tried to make out dark figures against the night sky illuminated by the dozens of curses being cast. A bolt of green, a bolt of red, a purple beam, a golden ray, another green one. She knew what those green ones were.
Compared to her days of running, she reached upon the current battlefield only too soon, and came to an abrupt halt, looking around the fighting figures, the flying curses, the shouted spells and cries of death. There were so many of them, and they moved with a frantic speed, nothing more than a blur to her eyes. And yet, she knew, even without seeing, that she was still not there. This was the battle, but it was not the battle.
He was not here, not among these figures, engaged in killing and dying.
And she broke to run again, this time through a battlefield that was anything but deserted.
Winding her way through the mass of bodies, those fallen and those still standing, blocking curses and sending out her own, catching a glimpse of someone familiar every now and then. Some of those would nod to her, follow her with their eyes, perhaps even attempt a reassuring smile, unless they were too occupied with their own fight and didn't notice her or didn't risk to glance at her. Sometimes she answered their look, with nothing but one of her own, locking eyes for a brief moment of acknowledgement, sometimes she was too occupied herself to notice them or dare glance in their way.
But nevertheless she knew, just as clearly as she knew that they were not here, those glances, those looks she would remember for the rest of her life, whether it would be many long years or a few short seconds. She will never forget those eyes, full of darkness and light, despair and hope, death and life. Her friends, her classmates, her companions, her allies, people she had never met but who were fighting for the same cause, were dying for the same cause. And in that fraction of second she had held their glance, she realized that they knew as well. They knew where she was going, and they were wishing she would get there on time.
And then the battle was behind her with its fatal glow and blurry figures, fighting in the night, fighting for a new morning. The display of colours was still visible in the black sky, like a huge rainbow amongst the stars. But the cries of living and dying faded away as if someone had drawn close a curtain between her and them. An eerie silence overtook heavens and earth, and even the stars seemed to have lost part of their brightness. With every step she took it became darker, and a surreal coldness started to creep into her bones. She had no idea whether it was real, or created by her imagination, by her exhausted mind, but in the end, it didn't matter.
And as the scene opening up before her finally registered in her brain, she knew that this was it. The end.
They stood there, in front of her, facing each other, silent. A lone wisp of mist was curled around of them, as if separating the pair from the rest of the world. And as she kept her place, frozen, but not with fear but something quite different, it struck her that they were indeed in another world.
Neither of them moved a muscle, but that didn't mean they were not battling. She didn't see their eyes, but she didn't have to – she knew they were burning orbs of fire reflecting the inner strength and power these two enemies possessed. She knew their eyes were locked – green upon red, both burning, both deadly.
She had finally got there.
--
II. Deed
The force had brought him to his knees and she could almost feel him breaking. She knew he was hurt and bleeding, but they all were, yet he was something more – he was dying.
And suddenly she forgot the war, she forgot the pain and the suffering, the curses and the killing. She forgot the importance of the battle, she forgot the past and the future. All she knew, all she felt, all she remembered, was that he needed her. This moment, this one and only present, he needed her. And she was not going to let him die alone, she was not going to let him die, she was not going to let him break.
She broke into a run again.
And again, she couldn't reach him. She was running but not getting closer, she was running but not moving, she was running but not reaching him. And he would break alone, and he would die alone.
It was as if time stopped. She opened her mouth to cry out his name, to reach out to him, to be there for him. And then things started to happen again, only now in slow motion. She saw him raise his wand, one last time, she saw him smile that wicked grin of his, and she could feel the triumph in his blood red eyes. He waited for a moment, a moment which lasted centuries, to relish in the wake of the act he was about to commit, the deed he was about to do, to bask in his malicious victory. And then, too soon, his mouth formed the words, the two words which would end the battle, and everything else she cared for, everything else she fought for. Two simple words with such strong meaning, and the tip of his wand exploding green.
She could not watch it, yet she could not tear her gaze away. No, she could not look away. She heard someone crying, muted, as if it came from a long distance off and she heard another voice, a soft one, speaking the words of comfort. But they were of another time, another place, another life.
And then, suddenly, without a warning, everything washed back into reality.
"HARRY!" she cried out with all her might and tried to run to him, to push him away from the path of the curse or jump there in front of him or just be there and hold him in her arms.
With a delay she realized the reason she couldn't move, couldn't reach him – someone had her in a firm grip and was holding her still.
"Let me go!" she pleaded without losing a moment. "I have to reach him, I have to support him, I have to be there for him!"
"Shhh!" the voice hushed her and she felt a warm breath against her cheek. "Shhh! It's going to be alright. Everything is going to be alright."
How can they be telling her that everything was going to be alright when they were seeing what she was seeing! How can they be telling her that everything was going to be alright when she was seeing what she was seeing!
"He needs me! I have to go to him! I have to stand beside him! I cannot leave him alone. I cannot!"
"Shhh!" came the soothing again, and despite her overpowering need and dread, she felt herself calm down, if only the tiniest bit. "He doesn't need you right now. You were there for him, you followed him to the end, you stood beside him – but this he has to face alone."
"But…" There were a million things she wanted to say, to shout, to sob, but none of those left her mouth.
"Look," the voice spoke and a hand tipped her chin upward, bringing her gaze to the two figures in front of them, and it took her a long moment to comprehend what she was seeing.
Two enemies. Two wizards. Both powerful, both dangerous, both lethal. Both standing, facing each other, both wands raised. But one of them smiled no more and the other gripped the wand with iron determination, his emerald eyes ablaze. He spoke a spell and brilliant white light erupted from the tip of his wand and flew at the other figure, who did not flick his wand or move at all. He stood still, so still, and then the curse reached him, and for a moment she could see surprise upon his face, and then everything went white.
She could feel a wave of pure energy and force rush over them, she could feel its power in every bit of her being. She also felt someone holding her down, pushing her lower onto the ground, protecting her body with their own.
She lay there on the ground for what seemed ages, but soon time lost any meaning to her. Even when her spine wasn't tinkling with the white wave of power, when hair on the back of her neck stood up no more and when the intent tension was lost from the surrounding air, even then she didn't move, even then she kept on lying on the ground.
It might have been fear that kept her from raising herself, or maybe exhaustion, or perhaps the fact that now it was her time to seclude herself from the known universe, from the reality, and go to a faraway place, foreign and unreachable to everyone but her. Perhaps all her thought had been swept away from her mind, all her feelings away from her heart, nothing left but a peaceful oblivion. A place to rest.
Perhaps it was none of these, but whatever it might have been, she was brought out of it fairly soon by a familiar voice calling her name.
Raising her head at last, and even forcing her eyes open, she saw him, walking towards her, looking around with attentive and concerned eyes, trying to find her, but afraid of the condition he might find her in.
In a heartbeat, quicker than she ever would have thought herself capable, although at the moment her mind was filled with no annoying thoughts, she leapt to her feet and sprinted towards him, giving him only one moment to reach out his arms and catch her into a tight embrace.
There they stood, in the battlefield, against the dawning sky, amongst the brave and the fallen, holding each other, feeling an immense amount of relief and even happiness.
"You can't know how glad I am that you are here and well," he spoke to her in a silent passionate whisper.
She smiled against his neck.
"But I can. Believe me, I can."
--
III. Punishment
He staggered to his feet the second she had escaped his arms, looking around with uneasiness until he noticed who she was running to, and his eyes narrowed. He stood there for a moment, shaking a little, weak from the battle and the torrent of power that had swept over him, but even after collecting enough strength to move, he stood his place, staring at the two people holding each other, oblivious to the battle, to the dead, to the outside world, finding peace and happiness in their embrace.
He stood there, and his eyes narrowed further, but not in disgust or scorn. Perhaps he wished someone would hold him like that, that there was a way for him to escape the reality, if only for a second. Or perhaps he found comfort in seeing that even after such a desperate and bloody night, there was still some care and love left in the world. Or perhaps there was another reason why he was gazing at them so intently he didn't hear him approach, not until he stopped by his side, but even then he didn't acknowledge him. Not yet. Maybe he was not ready.
They had met before, in the heat of the battle, and they had fought, together, side by side. There, he had finally made his decision, when only his own life was on stake and there was nobody to choose for him. There, in the heat of battle, he had chosen the side – the side to fight for, the side to die for, and after that, he never faltered, never hesitated. If it would be his doom – let it be. His choice was made. And he kept true to it.
So they had fought, together, side by side, saving each other's lives more than once. Perhaps his past was not clean, perhaps he had done awful things, things he must pay for, things he must be punished for – but not now. All that mattered now was that he had made the choice and fought for them and fought with all his might and all his skill. And when the day came for him to answer for his crimes of past, he wouldn't stand alone. He would be there, and speak for him.
He was looking at his two best friends finding comfort in each other arms after a most horrible night, and he couldn't help but smile. It was finally over. The last battle was over, and it was won. Even though the glory and victory would be overshadowed by pain and death, and those who were there would remember it as a nightmare instead of a new beginning, even though their lives would never be the same again, even though a part of innocence was forever lost for them – he couldn't help but smile. A moment of peace and happiness would be allowed for him, after all. After the night. After the battle. After the war.
He turned his gaze at his companion instead and watched with amusement as he tried to recollect himself, re-establish his cool mask, clear his face from every possible emotion, and fail miserably at it.
"Going soft, Malfoy?" he asked teasingly.
"Still alive, Potter? How unfortunate."
His voice was cold and devoid of feeling, but he refused to face him for his expression was still completely unguarded.
He decided to leave him alone for they were all tired and he didn't want to bother him, not after he had saved his life so many times during the battle. But he couldn't leave without the last word.
"Well, you know what they say – no good deed goes unpunished."
"Sod off, Potter."
But he had left already, limping towards the other two of their Golden Trio.
--
The End.
Explanation (for those who didn't get it, but want to):
Hermione is running, Draco catches her and doesn't let her help Harry because Harry has to face Voldemort alone. Also, Draco fights for the good side, and hopes Harry will speak for him should he go on trial. Although at some points it seems otherwise, Harry wins and destroys Voldemort. Hermione runs and hugs Ron, Draco stands and watches them, Harry comes and talks to him.
That's it.
And before you all attack me with reviews about how confusing the story was, and that I should do something about it, then first consider this - the story was meant to be confusing. So that you could wonder, and think, and try to figure out what the hell happened here. And if you don't like it, so be it, but there was a warning at the beginning.
OK, attack me with your reviews now. Any and every kind of reviews. :)