me.'
'Malfoy-'
'I'm begging you, Harry, and I don't beg, God, I don't even ask, but I'm begging you, please go away-'
He heard Harry laugh. 'Hey. You actually said my name. That's a first, isn't it?'
Draco jerked his head up, staring at Harry, now standing less than a foot away from him, in disbelief — how could anyone be so stupid-
'Would you just stop blithering and get the hell out of here!' Draco yelled, but it was too late, he felt his arm, which had been tensed against his side, whip forward without any volition of his own, the sword grasped tightly in his fist. It was what he had feared and yet entirely unexpected — he felt his arm, utterly beyond his control, lunge forward, the sword cold in his grasp as the blade plunged squarely into the left side of Harry's chest.
*** ***
They were halfway along the underground corridor that led to the dungeons when Sirius suddenly realized that he was walking alone.
Turning in confusion, he raised his wand, shedding its light along the dark corridor. 'Remus?' he called.
'I'm here,' came a faint voice.
Sirius raised his wand higher and saw Lupin standing very still in the middle of the corridor, bent forward slightly, his hands on his knees. Sirius went hastily to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. 'What's wrong?'
'I don't know,' said Lupin, in a wondering tone. He coughed, and straightened up, looking at Sirius, who saw that his friend's usually steady gray eyes were lit with a muted sort of panic.
Sirius felt a cold fist of fear unfurl itself in his stomach. Lupin was rarely afraid, certainly almost never panicked. 'Are you in pain?' he said. 'From the Change?'
'Yes, but that's normal, you know that. This isn't the Change, Sirius.
This is something else-' and with that Lupin suddenly pitched forward, stumbling into Sirius and knocking his wand out of his hand. Sirius caught his friend around the shoulders as he fell; lowered him slowly to the ground and knelt down next to him.
Lupin's face was ashen, his breathing labored. His eyes searched Sirius' face, alert now with something more than panic. 'Sirius-'
'Moony, what's going on?'
'I don't know-' Lupin tensed around a spasm of pain, eyes still wide.
'Something's happening-' He sucked in a breath, raised his hands and stared at them. Sirius looked too, knowing what he would see: Lupin's hands were always the first thing to change. They had already begun the process, the nails lengthening and becoming glassy, fingers buckling and curving. 'Sirius-I don't know what's happening to me. It's the Change, but it isn't. You have to get me into a cell.'
'And lock you up? Like this? No way.'
'Sirius-I think I'm being Called.'
'Called?' Sirius echoed blankly.
'The centaur,' said Lupin breathlessly, 'he told me that Slytherin would call all the creatures he made. He warned me — '
'Is that what's making you Change?'
'Yes, I think so.'
'But you're not a Dark creature — '
'I am, Sirius — ' and Lupin suddenly arched his back and yelled out loud — almost a yell, and then again, almost a howl. He suddenly reached out and seized the collar of Sirius' shirt, his sharpened nails raking through the material, nearly grazing Sirius' throat.
Sirius reached out and caught at Lupin's hands. 'Moony — '
'Take me to the cell, Sirius! Do it!'
Sirius was suddenly reminded of the boy he had known at school, still terrified by his own ability to transform, still frightened by the agonizing process. He had shown Sirius, once, where he skin was scarred, along his arms and legs — 'The Change breaks my bones and reforms them. If I thrash too much, sometimes the bones cut through the skin. My parents used to tie me up while I Changed. It helped a little.' But that had been when Lupin was still a child, still growing; over the years the process had become easier. So why was he in such agony now?
Sirius put his arm around Lupin and lifted him to his feet. 'All right.
Let's go.'
— The blade went into Harry's chest — and then the hilt of the blade -
and then Draco's arm followed, and his whole body, he fell through Harry and onto the ground, his knees striking painfully against the rocks, the sword clattering to the ground in front of him. He stared at it wildly, not wanting to turn around, not wanting to see what he had done, or hadn't done. He heard his own heart pounding in his ears like a locomotive engine; it was deafening. And then, as if from a very long way away, he heard someone behind him clear their throat.
'Um…. Malfoy-'
Draco spun around on his knees, and stared.
Harry stood in front of him. He seemed unwounded, unruffled, even. If he looked anything, he looked faintly embarrassed. Then Draco realized something — he could, just barely, see through Harry, see the outline of the trees behind them through his shirt, see the faint pinpricks of the stars through his eyes. Draco's heart, which had been pounding like a locomotive, now felt as if it had disappeared entirely and there was a huge empty whistling space in his chest. He sucked in a gasping breath and heard himself whisper, 'Are you a ghost? Are you dead? Did I kill you?'
Harry raised an eyebrow. 'I'm not dead, Malfoy. And I flatter myself that if you'd killed me, you'd know
