Chapter 166: 7-1

It was beautiful. The relic left behind by the Founders proudly displayed its excellence, untouched by rust. It was undoubtedly a work of art that should have been carefully protected, displayed, and praised. —The abomination sought by the man who tried to grasp the world in his hands.

Before the golden cup and the silver diadem, the fang of a serpent that had lived a thousand years was raised.

"Ready? On three. Harry, you give the signal."

Glancing sideways at the boy holding the same kind of fang, Hermione clutched her trembling hands and took a deep breath. The boy, too, swallowed what little saliva he had left down his long-parched throat and adjusted his grip on the fang. Harry nodded solemnly to the two standing with tense expressions.

"──Destroy them!!"

The fangs were swung down upon what had once been someone's treasures. It was so anticlimactic—anticlimactically, Voldemort's soul was torn apart.

"Ha—haaa..."

Hermione's legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor. The first to rush over and catch her was, naturally, her boyfriend, Ron. The fangs rolled out of their hands with a clatter.

"To think something like this existed—to think that the Sword of Gryffindor, or rather, the Basilisk venom, was the key—you should have told us sooner, Draco."

"...I honestly forgot."

Staring blankly at the fang that had left his hand, Draco Malfoy answered weakly. Ah—to think he would end up destroying the soul of that terrifying man with his own hands!

"Now everyone is—Voldemort's enemy, aren't we."

"Ron... you..."

Hermione's eyes widened at the words of Ron, who had never been able to say the man's name, neither during their journey nor before it. Ron continued, scratching his nose, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"He's already right outside, isn't he? Then—well—it's too late to worry about that now."

"...Yeah, it's too late now."

Harry smiled gently. Just as Maria had hoped—through their life-threatening journey, the bond between the three had grown even stronger. As for Maria...

"...I wonder if she's alright."

"She's fine. —If it's Maria, she'll definitely pull it off."

In the Room of Requirement, now empty except for the four of them, Harry stood before the dead Horcruxes and thought of his sister and friends who must be running around the castle at this very moment.

I walked briskly down the dark corridor. Seamus, who was under the Invisibility Cloak with me, whispered. The older of the Carrow siblings should be patrolling around here—the Resistance had fought to avoid running into them until now. They were probably the ones who knew the most about the current state of Hogwarts. Perhaps even more than the second-generation Marauders.

"Are you sure it's really just you and me? Even if we wait for McGonagall to be contacted—"

"We don't have that kind of time. I'm leaving that to Parvati and Lavender. The members of the Order are heading to the other teachers too. Neville and Dean will handle Alecto. —As the mastermind of this operation, I have to take on the most dangerous spot, right?"

—Found him. A large back. A rough gait. The thug-like man who strutted around our school like he owned the place—Amycus Carrow.

I handed the Invisibility Cloak over to Seamus and approached, pressing my back against the wall. The target hadn't noticed. In fact, he was stumbling. It seemed he had just tossed a few back somewhere. He was humming happily with a stupid look on his face. It must have been a good night for him. In that case—I'll have him make his exit right here while he's still in a dreamlike state. Because Hogwarts is not a tavern for ruffians, but a school for children.

"Stupefy!"

It was a beautiful direct hit to the back of his head. Amycus Carrow dropped easily. Seamus poked only his head out from under the Invisibility Cloak and smiled wryly, looking completely underwhelmed.

"As a matter of our House's principles, I'm not so sure about a sneak attack."

"We can't afford to formally duel every single time. Our lives are on the line."

"Why aren't you in Slytherin, again?"

"Because Harry isn't in Slytherin."

Evading the question with a bitter joke, I tied Amycus up. I took the wand from the man's pocket, snapped it in two, and threw it away. I feel bad for wandmakers everywhere, but... this is the quickest way to neutralize them.

The coin in my pocket grew hot. It was from Neville. It seemed Neville's team had successfully captured the sister, Alecto. Furthermore, messages arrived from Anthony, Ernie, and the others who had headed to their respective Heads of Houses, confirming that they had made contact.

"Everyone—they did it."

"We don't call ourselves Dumbledore's Army for nothing."

"Well said, Gryffindor."

Clenching the coin, I tossed Amycus into a random room and changed my destination. If the message from the coin reached them, Harry and the others should be heading there now too—to the Great Hall.

"Let's go, Seamus."

"As you command. Our Goddess of Victory."

The night grew ever deeper.

The Great Hall was completely overflowing with people. Naturally so. All the students and all the teachers were gathered. —Except for the Carrow siblings and Snape.

"Harry Potter! And—Maria Potter, you as well!"

Professor McGonagall let out a sound that was caught between a cry of joy and a scream. The students, who must have been rudely awakened long after falling asleep, murmured in confusion. The younger students erupted into cheers at Harry's appearance.

"Silence!" —The one who calmed the students' excitement was Professor Lupin, who had rushed over at once as a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Harry, you have something to say, don't you?"

"—Maria does."

Without any need for prior arrangement, our minds in perfect sync, Harry looked at me softly. Yes—it starts here. This is where my battle begins.

"From here on out—Voldemort is coming to Hogwarts."

Heart-wrenching screams arose from all over. Several people started crying. They trembled, slumped to the ground, and called out their families' names. What a terrible sight—what a terrible state of affairs. This is what—we had created.

"Hogwarts is going to become a battlefield. We will fight. And—we will make sure all of you escape."

Silence fell over the entire Hall, leaving only the sound of muffled sobs.

"We prepared for this. I need you to memorize the address I'm about to give you. I am the Secret-Keeper for the Fidelius Charm. If you don't know what that means, ask an older student. —Now, I'm going to guide everyone to a certain room. If you open its door, it connects to another house. Some of you might know it—it's called a Vanishing Cabinet. Though with an Extension Charm, it's become a door as big as the Great Hall, rather than just a cabinet. At the house, there is a lady named Andromeda Tonks waiting to welcome you. I've left everything after that to her. If you have any trouble, rely on her. Until I die—as long as you are in that house, you will be safe. Because..."

I took a breath. I looked at Colin. Colin's younger brother Dennis was clinging to him. I looked at Ginny. She was gripping her wand alongside Luna.

"The only ones who can pass through the Cabinet—are underage children."

Once they passed through the Cabinet, adults would not be able to follow them. The Death Eaters would not be able to prey on the children. Naturally—as an adult, I wouldn't be able to rush to their aid either. Therefore, I decided to leave what happens next to Andromeda and the other adults. The Age Line that Dumbledore had once drawn around the Goblet of Fire on Halloween night—that was the source of my idea.

"Until every underage student among you crosses over safely—I swear I will protect you to the end."

Before anyone realized, the sound of sobbing had ceased. The despair had been wiped away.

"However—"

I bit my lip, chewing on my own inadequacy. I had thought we still had a little more time. Even though I knew that couldn't be true. Things have never once gone exactly the way I wanted. Hope is something that seeps into you, endlessly sweet.

"It's not fully complete yet. The spellwork is only halfway done. So, please—please, buy us time. I need you adults to buy the time we need to protect them."

I looked around at the faces in the crowd. Harry, Ron, Hermione. Neville and our friends in the DA. The members of the Order of the Phoenix. The teachers. The alumni. —Draco.

The adults looked straight at me and nodded.

"Those of you who are of age will be able to Apparate from the Hog's Head. You'll have to make your way there on your own, but—"

"What do we do if we want to fight alongside you?"

This time, it was my turn to be left speechless. Eyes were looking at me. Eyes—eyes—countless eyes full of the will to live.

"You might die, you know."

"Of course," a Ravenclaw boy nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I can't protect all of you, too."

"We can't let the Potters shoulder the burden alone any longer," a Hufflepuff girl laughed brightly.

"──Are you planning to die?"

The person in the red robes answered, puffing out their chest. "No way! We are—fighting to live."

"......"

Right, of course—they, who had spent seven years here together with us, had equally inherited the will to stand up and fight from Dumbledore. They weren't weaklings. They were already—adults. They would decide their own futures, their own ways of life.

"You might die. The probability is high. This isn't a class, or a game, or the Dueling Club—this is 'War.' Holding back does not exist. So, if there is anyone here who is thinking of fighting with the intention of dying—yes, I'm talking to you, Gryffindors. Listen to me, that is—absolutely forbidden. Do not stay. I won't allow it. Pick up your wands only if you understand that when you die, you force the survivors to carry the burden of regret and guilt. Fleeing is not shameful, and no one can blame you for it. Those who stay, and those who leave—both must be respected."

I looked at the people in green robes who were looking down. It's okay to run away. It's okay to be cowardly. Just fight—for the one single thing you refuse to compromise on.

"From here on out, it's your own responsibility."

'Your own responsibility.' What cruel words. —Those were your words, Draco.

Acknowledging the agreement, everyone sprang into action all at once. Professor McGonagall waved her wand and cast a spell over the entire castle: Piertotum Locomotor. Professor Flitwick enveloped the castle in protective barriers. The members of the Order of the Phoenix, led by Kingsley, began taking up their positions. The trio of the second-generation Marauders ran off to try and get Peeves's cooperation. Hagrid took massive strides to go call Grawp────

"Give me Harry Potter."

The hall froze.

"I know that you are preparing to fight. —Give Harry Potter to me. If you do so, I shall spare the rest of you."

It was a voice. Not a roar. A voice—like a whisper directly into each and every person's ears, into their brains. Suddenly, I felt a sense of nostalgia. It was the voice of the pitiful man who used to whisper to my soul back when I had a scar on my forehead.

"Even I do not wish to spill precious magical blood in vain. I do not want to kill you. I will give you until midnight. —Catch Harry Potter and bring him before me."

It was as if time had stopped. Everyone held their breath; no one could even twitch. And so—

"──Now then, who is in favor of this gracious proposal?"

I need to act. I will act. This isn't about leadership or any noble sentiments. It's because the responsibility lies with me. Once again, I looked around at the faces in the Hall. Frightened. Hesitant. Closing their eyes, abandoning thought. Glaring at me for getting in the way. —Looking at Harry, trying to entrust their hope to him.

"If I had the time to hand over Potter, I'd rather just evacuate immediately. War is a stupid thing. You all can get worked up and die for nothing on your own."

It was Pansy Parkinson. Sneering at Harry and me from the bottom of her heart, she boldly declared that self-preservation was more important than honor. She smiled at her fellow Slytherins, seeking their agreement, toward those who could not stand up—trying to become the very symbol of their escape route. You really—truly—the way you all fight is so wonderfully unwavering. It's the best.

"I will take responsibility for evacuating the students up to the sixth years. The seventh years among you—Professor Slughorn, I'd like to ask you to guide and escort them."

Profusely sweating, Slughorn looked up at me in disbelief. He had been present at the incident at the Greengrass estate. He must know that we, of course, knew which side he leaned closer to. —And that is exactly why.

"'She' has decided to live."

I felt as though reason had returned to Slughorn's eyes.

"...I am a teacher, after all. Leading an evacuation is naturally something I can do. Follow me, Slytherins. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor will follow. —Those who wish to stay, may do so."

Time, which had stopped, frantically began moving again as Slughorn started walking. In the confusion, I grabbed the arm of a child who was trying to blend in with the adults.

"Oh, Maria, please."

"No. Underage students must evacuate, no exceptions. Ginny, of course, that applies to you too."

"I'm staying!"

"Ginny!"

"Because—I haven't beaten the crap out of him yet!"

Calming my own heart that was nearly dragged into Ginny's temper tantrum, I furrowed my brows in confusion. Ginny continued, her brown eyes sparkling with hostility.

"Snape. That man who hurt you so much, Maria—I've decided I'll absolutely never forgive him."

"Ginny..."

A young girl's love is intense and endlessly blinding.

"Snape isn't here."

Snape was nowhere to be seen in the Great Hall. That was the answer. —I will not give up.

"Ginny, and Luna. I'd like to ask you two to assist Andromeda. Most of the Death Eaters are adults, but—there might be a 'what if.' If that happens, I need you two, as members of Dumbledore's Army, to protect the children. That's a job the adults here can't do. It's incredibly important. —Will you take this on for me?"

They probably saw through it as adult trickery in the end. Even so, the girls nodded for me. 'I suppose I have no choice,' they seemed to say, with mature expressions that put adults to shame.

"When everything is over—you punch him for me. That huge liar."

In my place.

"Alright, we'll handle it. ...We'll fight together, on the other side."

I began the massive relocation, gathering the four Houses from first years to sixth years. The trio, who we had decided would conserve their stamina for the fight to defeat Nagini, accompanied them as guards. As for Draco.

"—I can't find those idiots."

"Huh?"

"They might still be fast asleep in their dormitory despite all this commotion. ...Those blockheads."

Even as he harshly called them blockheads, his eyes undeniably showed his concern for them. Ah, I see, you—

"That's why you were alone. All this time."

He had continued to carry the memory of the sight of one of his lackeys being swallowed by Fiendfyre in the place he left him behind.

"Go get them."

"Maria."

"As if losing just you would make a difference in our fighting power at this point. Do whatever you want. ...You cowardly, soft-hearted Malfoy."

Waving my hand dismissively, I climbed the stairs toward the seventh floor, supporting the first and second years. I didn't look back. He could do what he wanted. Because I know that a coward like him—would never bravely choose to die.

I believe in you. —My Draco.

Harry Potter's natural enemy was Draco Malfoy. Only two people in this world knew that truth: Draco and Maria. —No. There were three irregulars.

"To think you'd stubbornly survive this long."

"I could say the exact same thing to you. —Nott."

Theodore Nott—a cunning snake who had learned of a kind of future through an outrageous cheat. He stood in Draco's way with his wand in hand. It was on Draco's way back after waking up his former cronies and forcing them to evacuate to the Hog's Head. (The dimwitted former cronies had been immensely shocked that someone they only had ties to through their parents would mercilessly beat them awake.)

"Is Astoria doing well?"

"Don't speak her name so casually. It sullies her."

"What a terrible way to be hated. That's a problem—if you stay alive forever, my plans will fall apart."

They both took dueling stances. There was no way he could forgive him. A Malfoy would cast aside their pride and play the sycophant, a robe-carrier, or even a dog for the sake of their own benefit, self-preservation, or power, but they would never forgive malice directed at someone they considered family.

"──You used my name with Astoria, didn't you?"

He couldn't help but despise this man who had been so boundlessly cruel to his beloved.

"Did she really tell you that much?"

"You noticed that Astoria and I were close. You exploited her kindness. —You approached her with a contract, saying that if she offered herself to the Dark Lord, my life alone would be guaranteed. You scum."

"Hey now, are you one to talk? We're birds of a feather anyway. Right—Malfoy of Slytherin?"

Spells flew back and forth without even waiting for a three-count. Theodore mercilessly cast. —"Avada Kedavra."

"You..."

"I won't hesitate to use the Unforgivable Curses. I can kill. I will kill you. —Now, let's see how long that pure white, baby-like wand of yours can hold out against my wand, which has learned the Killing Curse."

Strike—strike—strike—green light, like 'his' eyes, flew wildly like lightning. Draco ground his teeth as he dodged around using only his leg strength. Ah, really, this is exactly why—

"One-trick ponies are the absolute worst!"

Then, he blasted the ground at his own feet and vaulted upward. Riding the shockwave, he swung down upon him. —With his fist.

"Gah—!?"

Theodore was sent flying. By Draco's straight punch. Theodore was in the absolute depths of confusion. Because, that guy was a wizard! Snatching Theodore's wand away, Draco bound the man with Fulgari. It was a spell barely used in this era yet. There was no way this guy would know the counter-curse. Straddling him, Draco pointed the tip of his wand at Theodore's throat, just like that night. 'He' was no longer here to stop Draco's violent act.

"Listen up, you little brat. Remember this well—sometimes, a fist is stronger than a wand."

These were words only Draco, who had been beaten up thoroughly by Potter and Granger's 'Muggle brawling', could say. And with—bitter memories attached.

"Sleep until the battle is over."

"You're not going to kill me? Coward. No matter how much you resist, you've already lost this war. My future self said so."

To Theodore, who sneered with absolute confidence, Draco returned the exact same smile. He showed the utmost pity for a man who had been toyed with and driven mad by his own self.

"No, Potter will win. Absolutely."

"......"

"I'll tell you the reason for your defeat. You didn't know how troublesome wannabe-heroes can be. You assumed there was only one future. And, this is the biggest factor of all. —You underestimated Neville Longbottom."

"What—"

Just as his eyes widened at a name he had completely never expected, Theodore's consciousness faded. Waving his wand and tossing the man into a random room, Draco answered while stroking his cypress wand.

"I won't kill you. I can't let this wand do such a thing. —'This', belongs only to me."

Draco Malfoy committed a sin. In the place he had left behind—he committed a sin.