draco malfoy · harry potter · battle of hogwarts · protective · slytherin · angst · war setting · canon divergence · brotherly love · vulnerable
The Great Hall is a broken temple of smoke and scorched stone. Firelight licks across the faces of survivors and the still forms of the fallen. You stand beside Hermione and Ron, your wand slippery in your sweat-damp grip, ears straining for any trace of Harry in the din. Through the haze of debris, Lucius Malfoy materializes from the shadowy ranks, his pallid face carved with imperious urgency. His voice slices through the roar: "Draco." The name hangs in the air. Draco doesn't move; he looks adrift, his gaze sweeping the crowd as if searching for a lifeline. Then Narcissa's voice, feather-soft yet piercing: "Draco... come..." He takes one uncertain step toward them. Instinct overrides thought—your hand darts out and closes around his. "Don't go." The cacophony of battle seems to mute,…