Especially Our Enemies

“Welcome to the party,” Ginny said. We were back on the Quidditch pitch, sitting on the team bleachers near the locker room entrance. She wore a Hogwarts uniform and her hair was wild around her face; absolutely beautiful.

“Am I dead?” I asked. No sense beating around the bush.

She chewed her lip for a moment.

“Not exactly,” she said.

“Not exactly?”

“It’s complicated,” a voice said. I turned and saw Harry sitting on the row above us.

“Isn’t everything?” Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged. He leaned back on the row behind him and crossed his legs at the ankle. His eyes swept upward, searching the sky as they always had when he was Seeking.

“How are you talking to me?” I asked.

“We’re not.” Harry chuckled. “You’re just inside your own head.”

“That’s crazy.”

“If the shoe fits,” Ginny said.

“Why you two?” I asked, feeling sheepish.

“I’m not going to psychobabble you,” Harry said, raising his head. His eyes were soft, and I felt my stomach go warm. “You know why.”

“Maybe I do.”

“Anyway, that armor did its job. You’re not dead,” he said. “But if you don’t go back soon, you will be, and so will Chaz.”

“Voldemort’s going to kill him,” I said. Helplessness is a sick feeling.

“No, Draco is,” Ginny said. “And if that happens, things can never be right again.”

“So, what we’re saying is,” Harry murmured, reaching out to touch my shoulder, “you should wake up.”

I opened my eyes and the world was bright and painful. Although it pounded furiously, my side was the least of my worries; I hurt everywhere. I was lying on the floor in the gallery, staring at the foot of a statue. Things began to coalesce; I could hear Chaz’s voice.

“You’ll never be more than a servant to him,” he was saying. I sat up slowly. Malfoy was holding Chaz’s throat in his hands, staring at his mouth as he spoke.

“Do it, Draco. Prove your loyalty.”

“He doesn’t give a damn about your loyalty,” Chaz said. He was unflinching, even as Malfoy adjusted his hands.

“I love my master, I must obey him,” Malfoy said, his voice empty. I cast about for my wand. It was lying on the floor near my left side, and I cursed inwardly. I forced my hand to close around it. My fingers were shaking so hard it clattered against the floor, but they seemed oblivious to me. After all, I was taken care of in Voldemort’s mind.

“You don’t love him,” Chaz said. His voice was so strange, like it didn’t belong to him at all.

“No, I don’t,” Malfoy whispered. He looked at Voldemort, whose eyes seemed to bore through me even though I was not the object of the glare.

“Love is a terrible weakness, Draco,” he said, crossing his arms.

“You believe fear is power,” Chaz said. “But your own fear weakens you.”

“I have nothing to fear from you.” Voldemort laughed. “Draco will take care of you for me.”

“You made a terrible mistake, killing Ginny. My cousin would have been the one,” Chaz said, “And he might have followed in his father’s footsteps. You could have swayed him.”

“But not you,” Voldemort said sarcastically.

“What could you offer me?”

“Power.”

“I have that,” Chaz said.

“Get it over with, Draco,” Voldemort said. “I tire of this boy.”

Malfoy tightened his hands around Chaz’s neck; Chaz looked unafraid. He turned his head and met my eye. I pushed to my feet despite the screaming agony in my body.

“Don’t do it, Malfoy,” I said.

Malfoy looked at me and I saw his hands falter.

“Why not?” he asked distractedly. His fingers were starting to depress the flesh beneath them. Chaz remained very still.

“Because I love you,” I said. I could not believe that I had said it.

“You see?” Chaz asked. “Now, let me go.”

Malfoy nodded and released him.

Chaz walked towards Voldemort slowly. I started to move forward, but Chaz held up a hand.

“Draco, help me,” Voldemort pleaded.

Malfoy turned away from him. Chaz raised the knife. Voldemort whimpered as Chaz backed him into the stone sarcophagus.

I couldn’t even close my eyes. Chaz drove the knife into Voldemort’s chest. He was whispering something, nonsense to my ears. Voldemort gasped as the blade entered his flesh, and arched up towards Chaz’s outstretched hand. A glow emanated from his chest, sliding up into Chaz’s fingers. He closed his fist around it.

I fell to my knees, feeling faint. Chaz went to a smashed glass case and picked up one of the canopic jars. He lifted the lid and pressed his hand to the top; the jar took on the strange glow. Chaz lidded it once more.

“Come here,” he called. Malfoy walked obediently to him. “Break this for me.”

Malfoy took the jar and raised it over his head. I closed my eyes as he threw it to the floor, shattering it into a thousand tiny shards.

“Thank you,” Chaz murmured. He walked to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

“What the hell?” I asked.

“I told you,” Chaz said, smiling. “All sorts of people walk around with an Egyptian soul.”

Malfoy was shaking his head as if to clear it. He sat down on the edge of the stone sarcophagus.

“Is it over?”

“It is.”

“I owe you a great deal,” he said, looking to Chaz.

“Don’t mention it.”

“A Malfoy always repays his debts.”

Chaz looked up at me.

“What use do I have for your servitude?” He smiled.

Malfoy frowned at Chaz in confusion for a moment. Chaz walked away, signaling the end of any discussion. Then Malfoy turned to me.

“I owe you something as well,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“An apology?” he asked, meeting my eye hesitantly.

“I think it’s beyond that,” I told him.

“Did you mean it?” he asked, standing.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to say before the fire doors opened. Percy stood at the head of the group, wand in hand. Malfoy saw him and paled; he dove for his wand, sitting on the edge of the sarcophagus.

“Freeze, Malfoy!”

“Not bloody likely,” he snarled, falling to a crouch.

Two wizards at the front cast spells that I had never heard before; Malfoy collapsed to the floor.

“What did you do?” I asked, shaken.

“That’s how we put him under before,” Percy said, walking to Malfoy’s side. He put two fingers to his throat. “We have to clean up this mess,” he muttered.

“It’s clear,” he said loudly. The group parted and Hermione emerged, pale and shaking.

“Chaz?” she called. He emerged from the next room, looking for all the world like he had simply been touring the galleries, reading placards.

“I’m here, Mom,” he said. She opened her arms and he embraced her readily.

“I was so afraid.” Hermione squeezed him fiercely. Then she looked at me. “Ron.”

She held a hand out to me and I hugged them both. My body was still screaming at me, and I swayed slightly as I stood with them. Hermione looked up at me.

“He needs a medic,” she said, pulling away.

“I’m fine,” I insisted. The darkness was trying to pull me down again, and I resisted. Somehow, I knew that I could not let go.

“He’s had the Killing Curse cast on him,” Chaz said. Hermione and the others looked at me with some amazement.

“Is that what it was?” I asked. Percy grabbed me to keep me from going down. “I didn’t realize it would hurt like fuck.”

“I would imagine the vest saved him,” Percy said, looking me over.

“Keep me awake,” I murmured, leaning heavily against him.

“What?”

“Keep me awake. It’s my only chance.”