Draco Malfoy's Famous Last Words

EVELYN'S P.O.V.

I sprint the entire way to the dungeons, Ginny right on my heels. We are lucky enough to avoid any confrontation, though my nerves are still on edge when we arrive. The castle is, for lack of a better term, under siege. It will be any moment before Voldemort unleashes the full fury of his legions on us. Thoughts of Draco fighting as the new Dark Lord kep creeping into my mind. Whether it is from my new position as Dark Queen or the faint longing for him in my heart, I know not; all I know is that a constant panging resides deep within my gut, and I can barely manage to stay on task.

"Snakeskin," I state firmly at the common room door. The walls are unusually damp, as if the Black Lake above is under stress.

"Snakeskin!" I yell a second time, when the door does not budge.

"Why isn't it opening?" Ginny asks, bouncing on her heels and glancing over her shoulder.

"I don't know, that's the password," I moan. "ARGH!" I scream, kicking the stone wall with my foot.

Okay, think, Evelyn. You're the Dark Queen, there's got to be something you can do.

I stand up straight and concentrate on my eyes, letting every ounce of power I possess jolt through my entity and into them. Feeling a strange surge, my mouth begins working on its own, and a forgotten language comes flowing delicately, but firmly, from my lips. The door opens.

"You must be one like, Harry," Ginny comments, chin quivering.

"One what?"

"A Parselmouth," she answers.

"Oh, um, yeah. I am. I just don't particularly care to advertise that fact," I lie.

"Right, well, I can't say that I blame you."

I motion for Ginny to follow me into the common room. She seems nervous, as any sensible Gryffindor would have been. However, she musters up some courage and follows me up to the girls' dormitories.

When she finally arrives, I am already rifling through my trunk. On the very bottom, in a special compartment, lies what I am looking for. A black velvet bag.

"What's that for?" Ginny inquires.

"Oh, it's nothing, just a good luck charm," I say nonchalantly, before securing it around my neck and crossing the floor into the bathroom.

I emerge with the diamond barrette I transfigured on the night of the Yule Ball.

"Another good luck charm?" Ginny questions, unaware of its true identity as black eyeliner.

"Yeah," I reply, "A little luck never hurt anyone."

"Evelyn, I'm not an idiot."

"I know, Ginny," I say soothingly, "But it's best if you trust me for now."

She nods, somewhat reluctantly, and we begin making our way back up through the halls. The sounds of a freshly begun battle are ringing fluently from every direction. Screams and explosions surround us completely. Ginny latches onto my arm in a panic.

"What do we do?" she shrieks.

"Don't worry. Let's make our way back up towards the Room of Requirement, all right? Maybe we'll find some of our people up there."

I thought it was a reasonable solution.

I thought that I'd done well.

I thought wrong.

DRACO'S P.O.V.

I'd stayed safely behind my ranks for the majority of the battle. Voldemort had made it extremely clear that I was not to be harmed during the fight. My troops were fairing well, I'd seen few casualties thus far, and those that did die were useless anyway.

Fumes from spells and curses litter the sky. They hover over my head like colorful clouds, fogging the moon from my view. Screams of agony flood my head. As morbid as it seems, they give me enormous joy, for I know that no Death Eater would holler in such a way. We're better than that.

Crabbe, Goyle, and I have heard quite of lot of chatter amongst the Death Eaters about a diadem. They were something to do with Rowena Ravenclaw or some other dead person. I don't really care. Point is: I'm the new Dark Lord. So naturally, I assume any missions of great importance will be thrust upon me.

"Crabbe! Goyle!" I shout.

"Yes, my Lord?" they chorus in unison.

"Come with me up to the Room of Requirement. Surely any diadem that's lost would be there, that's where everything ends up."

They nod and follow after me as I made for the staircases.

"What do you think this diadem is?" Goyle huffs behind me.

"I don't know," I reply, "But it's obviously pretty damn important if everyone's getting in such a fuss over it."

"Why do you think he wants it so badly?" Crabbe inquires.

"Hell if I know! All I know is that Potter is after it, so we NEED to get to it first. End of story."

They cease speaking for the rest of the way. When we arrive in the Room of Requirement, we find none other than Scarhead himself, searching for the precious diadem.

I'm sure you can guess how that lovely encounter went.