Somewhere, in the tiny part of his mind not completely focused on the upcoming slaughter he would be doing, Draco wondered what kind of picture he made, riding dragonback through the night sky. It was probably fantastic.

The rest of his mind, however, was focused on the magic roaring through him, rejoicing over his reconnection with his wand. It was the first time he'd held the length of hawthorn since he had lost it to Harry in the war, and he felt like he could have destroyed Voldemort by himself.

Well, that and hanging onto Harry for dear life. The dragon was flying north faster than any broom Draco had ever ridden, and they were so high up that the cities below them looked like faraway constellations.

Draco figured they were somewhere over the Cotswolds when Harry let out a snort of flame from his nostrils. Draco took it as a warning and leaned forward, tightening his grip on the leather harness. Good thing he did, as Harry tucked his wings into his sides and dropped like a stone out of the sky. He let loose an earth-shaking roar and a white-hot column of fire.

Closer to the ground, Draco could see a dilapidated manor house. A few people were running for the door, off the overgrown lawn. Draco braced himself as Harry hit the ground like a ton of rocks, landing on an unfortunate slow man in black robes. He swung down using the spikes on Harry's neck as the man screamed and turned in time to see Harry rip the man apart and incinerate him.

His hands dripped with the unknown man's blood when he shifted back. Draco's gaze met eyes that glowed brightly and still had a dragon's slit pupil. Wild, rage fuelled magic whipped around him, Light and Dark sparking off each other.

"Inside?" he asked, readjusting his grip on his wand.

Harry jerked a nod and let out a noise that was somewhere between Parseltongue and a dragon's growl. He spun on a heel and stalked toward the manor. Draco followed without question.

Blood would flow tonight.

Harry didn't know where they were. He didn't know who he had just killed, and he didn't care. All he knew was that they had his son.

And he knew they would die tonight.

Dark magic ran through his veins, heavy and oily. Voldemort's, and his own Darkness. It hadn't run so free since the night Reggie was born.

A single, powerful blast from the Elder Wand blasted apart wards and the front door together. The tether to Reggie, created during the ritual, was pulling straight down through the floor. Harry considered blasting through the floor, but he didn't want to hurt Reggie accidentally.

"Potter!" someone shouted, coming toward them. Harry flicked his curse aside with the Elder Wand. A second flick, of Voldemort's yew wand this time, blasted his gut apart, painting the walls with gore.

"Downstairs!" he called to Draco. The blonde grunted in understanding, already duelling with another black-robed man. Harry watched just long enough to know that Draco had it handled before searching for the door to the cellar.

He blasted that open too. And the two figures behind it.

"DADDY!" Reggie's scream echoed through the stone cellar. Harry snarled, holding a third black-robed man by the throat.

Daddy's coming, Reggie, he hissed as he wrapped the man in Voldemort's oily magic. The man melted, just like Dolohov had, and liquid flesh ran over Harry's fingers and down his arm.

He tossed the clean skeleton aside carelessly, stepping through the puddles of gore with his bare feet as he ripped down the wards on the last door between him and his son.

I'm here now, Snakeling.

Draco stepped over his last opponent with a sneer, leaving the man bound and unconscious in the bloody entrance hall.

He might not be a killer, but that didn't mean he wouldn't let Harry have them. They didn't deserve to live after taking his boy.

The cellar was a scene from a nightmare. Draco nudged aside some bastard's skull with his toe and stepped around a puddle of something he didn't even want to contemplate before he reached Harry and Reggie.

"Father!"

"Reggie!" Draco dropped into a crouch and the four-year-old hit his chest at a dead run. He wrapped small arms and legs around Draco's torso as he stood. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Reggie shook his head. "Just tired. And hungry." He buried his face in Draco's shoulder. "My magic was hurting and itchy, but Daddy made it go away."

Draco's head snapped up. "Harry?" he asked. The dark-haired man was pale beneath the blood splattered across his skin. His shoulders were hunched and his fists clenched and shaking.

"Harry?"

Draco's voice seemed to come from a distance, barely making through the roar in Harry's ears. He was panting, trying to hold the magic back just long enough to get Reggie and Draco out.

Because nothing in that manor house would survive once he let it go.

"Go, Draco," he gritted out. He held out the two wands in his grip. "Take these and get Reggie to the Manor."

"No, Harry-"

"GO!" he roared. His hold on the magic slipped, and a small column of Fiendfyre came out of his mouth with the word.

Draco's eyes went wide and he nodded once before apparating away, holding tightly to Reggie.

Harry let go of the magic, and world around him vanished into roaring Fiendfyre.

Draco landed in the center of the charred circle in the back garden where Harry had done the ritual and buckled, hitting his knees.

"Charlie!" he shouted, as loud as he could. "Mum!"

"Draco?"

Charlie was running for them, shirtless and wand out. Narcissa was close behind him, her silk dressing gown flapping around her knees and flaxen hair loose down her back.

"Draco!" she called. "Reggie?"

"Grandmere!" Reggie ran to her and let her scoop him up.

"Draco, what happened?" Charlie asked, helping Draco up off the ground. "Where's Harry?"

"Everything we just did is very illegal, and none of it ever happened, understand?" Draco met Charlie's gaze steadily, making sure the dragonologist knew what he meant before he even started to explain.

After a few seconds of silence, Charlie nodded. "We'll get George to help with a story to feed to the Minister."

Draco relaxed. "Short version, Tom gave us a Dark ritual to find Reggie. Harry killed them all."

"Where is Harry?" Narcissa asked, Reggie balanced on her hip and she ran her fingers through his hair soothingly.

"He…his magic was unstable," Draco whispered. "He's having an overflow."

"What does that mean?" Charlie demanded. "Is he going to be alright?"

Draco slumped against the redhead, arm stilled pulled over his shoulder. "I…don't know." He felt Charlie squeeze his arm bracingly and pulled away. "Kreacher? Winky?" he asked.

The pair of elves appeared with a pop. "Mister Malfoy called?"

"Winky, can you help my mother take care of Reggie?" he asked, carefully phrasing it as a question due to his Wizengamot restrictions. Winky nodded and scurried off with Narcissa. "Kreacher, could you take these back to the artefact room?" The old elf took the three wands, Voldemort's yew wand still tacky with drying blood, and vanished.

"Now what?" Charlie asked, following as Draco headed inside.

"Now we wait for Harry."

Harry hissed in pain as he landed on his knees in the back garden of Malfoy Manor, naked and exhausted. He fell forward and pressed his forehead to the charred ground, breathing hard.

The sun broke the horizon.

Harry?

Harry rolled his head to the side, looking to where a miniature portrait was propped against the base of a tree. He blinked.

They came back about two hours ago, Tom told him. They're just fine.

Good, Harry sighed. I killed them all, Tom, he whispered.

And the bodies?

Ashes, he answered, along with the rest of the house.

Good.

Harry pulled himself up and over to the portrait to pick it up, ignoring Tom's flustered requests for him to put on pants.

"Harry!"

"Draco," he sighed, slumping against the blond's chest as strong arms wrapped around him. "It's finally over, Draco."