Author's Note: The twin swap was deliberately made in this story. Why? Because placing my favorite twin in mortal danger is more exhilarating, I suppose? (Though you can't love one without the other, so the swap is moot, really.)

Chapter 3 - Wrong Place at the Right Time

2nd of May, 1998

The thought of being consumed by the smoldering flames just moments ago had Draco completely shaken to the point of hysteria. It was his fault that entire mess happened in the first place, and it nearly ended a handful of people's lives. It already took Crabbe; bearing witness to it would haunt him for the rest of his days. How the three that hovered around him muttering about nonsense seemed to brush it off like it was nothing he would never fully understand. All he could think about now was that he didn't want to be on the same floor as that room any longer than he had to anymore.

He scrambled onto shaken legs and made a run in the more direct route back to the ground floor, his mind reeling with everything and nothing all at once. Draco never would have imagined the horrors of war to be like this; filled with such chaos, terrible curses, and death unfolding right before his eyes. He thought he was on the safe side of it with his family, where they would be lounging in the outskirts while watching from afar, sipping fine wines and hosting garden parties while the world was combed free of the tainted blood. This was what he was told, how wrong they all were.

Being in the heart of it was beyond mortifying. The blood stained the furthest corners of his mind as so much death and murder was unleashed in front of him, covering the walls and floors of his own home. Somehow, each time these outbursts happened from the Dark Lord, he and his family were caught in the middle of it. But somehow, each time they just slinked on by mostly unharmed. Maybe he spared them because they were pureblood? He certainly didn't keep them around for their civic duty anymore, as he made clear to them several times. They would be paying for their punishment for years to come, granted they lived to see the morning.

What Draco could confidently conclude was that he was no hero, he was no savior. Had he been Harry back in that room filled with hellfire, given the choice to save himself or risk his life to save another, he'd have left them to burn. The only thing he cared about was himself and his parents, and prayed to whatever entity that heard him that they would simply just survive this.

He had came to a sudden halt in the long corridor when he saw Death Eaters combating two redheads while advancing toward him. He needed to get past them, the other way to the ground level would take too long, and the shortcut passage was in the direction he was going and his only saving grace to get out of harm's way the quickest.

Being wandless rendered him completely useless to simply make a run for it, but then he remembered the trinket he kept on himself at all times since he came into possession of it; the Tele-Snapper. Pressing himself against the wall to avoid the stray spells that were flying down the corridor at rapid speeds, he pulled the Weasley product from his pocket. Focusing as best as he could while muttering under his breath his desired destination, he told himself he just needed to get to the end of the corridor and he would be home free.

Draco heard someone laughing then – laughing during the nightmare that was their present? That person was insane. But then, a strange eerie silence snuffed out all the noise of war, and the air grew very still. What unraveled next no one would have ever fathomed: The wall disintegrated from the loudest, most explosive impact ever imaginable. Draco had vanished mere milliseconds prior, but the disruption from the magical static in the air screwed up the teleporting object. The sheer force from the detonation had transported Draco right into the two others who were backing right up to the very wall right beforehand.

It threw all three of them back down the corridor. Debris flew in all directions, the ringing in Draco's ears disoriented his vision once the initial explosion subsided and the rubble blanketed what was left of the floor around him. He dared to shift his body then and searing pain shot throughout his entire being as rubble tumbled off him. A hot liquid streamed down the side of his face, and he was positive his wrist–his entire arm–was most definitely broken. The two Death Eaters were buried under a huge chunk of wall next to him looking very dead, and his other arm was resting on someone beside him. Draco scrambled away from the crushed bodies in sheer horror. The lingering agonizing pain quickly forgotten as adrenaline drove his body to move–no–screamed for him to get up and just run.

'Forget the others, just forget them.'

Stumbling to his feet, Draco risked looking back at the chaos. Harry appeared from nowhere, rifling through the rubble with the others that he just scrambled out from under. He was shouting over someone else' horrifying screams while shooting spells out into the darkness, all while draping what he hoped was an unconscious person over his shoulders to move him away from further harm. He didn't stay long enough to see who it was exactly, he just turned and ran for the hidden passageway on shaky and sore legs. He needed to get out.

.oOo.

Draco's parents had found him huddled in the entrance of a girls bathroom that still had its 'Out of Order' sign dangling from the handles. Moaning Myrtle was present, hovering nearby him and offering comfort to the wizard who completely broke down after his legs finally gave out. He wondered if that person Harry was pulling from the debris was alive; it was definitely a Weasley, but damned if he knew exactly which one it was.

What horrified him was that, had he not tried to use the teleporting trinket, and the explosion didn't disrupt it and toss him into the two wizards, they'd most likely be as good as dead, even himself most likely. He survived, so they must have had to as well, right? They were so close to the impact sight… his ears still painfully rung from the terrifying sound. His head hurt, blood clung ominously to his face, his arm hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before. If he had to describe it, it felt like the cruciatus was focused on that one limb only.

His parents found him like this, curled into a shaken, crying mess. Draco couldn't even speak as he clung to his mother when she knelt down beside him. His words only formulated sobs, he couldn't stop shaking, he wanted to go home. Time kind of blurred together, he couldn't recall how he forced himself to move from the safety of the bathroom entrance, or how he even got there to begin with, but he soon found himself in the Great Hall. The cheering roar of everyone around him was the only signal he had that something good actually happened for a change. He didn't care at the moment, he just laid his head against his mother's side while her hand gently combed his debris and blood-caked hair.

People slowly filed in from nowhere, carrying the injured in to be examined and transported. Some he recognized through the daze he was in, and when shocks of ginger hair emerged he felt himself oddly perk up at seeing them. They were the two Weasley's from the corridor. One was a twin, he looked like the way he felt, barely conscious and leaning heavily on his brother and the other wizard as they dragged him in.

"I swore that you were dead, George," Draco overheard the one redhead say. "Had that Death Eater not knocked you out of the way…"

A strange ping in his chest got his attention and he forced it back, now was not the time for him to feel like he did something right, even if it was an accident. He tuned out the rest of the conversation, not wanting to think about anymore death, or about them. He'd buried those feelings away long ago for a reason. The rest of the ginger's family soon flocked around them, blocking Draco's line of sight of the twin - he promptly looked away. His gaze instead rested on the crumbled remains of Voldemort in the center of the room and he snapped his eyes shut. Though having the physical evidence right there meant that they were finally, truly free, he knew that they were not out of the mess just yet.

For now, Draco didn't care. He buried his head in his mother's shoulder, trying to tune out the mingling voices nearby him. The Weasley lot were obnoxiously loud, and it pierced right through his brain. A few were crying, but they weren't the only ones around that were doing some combination of something - laughing, crying, cheering, talking. Draco felt a heaviness settle in his chest as the exhaustion quickly started pulling him in, sleeping was not ideal where he was right now, but he just couldn't fight it.

Author's Note: This completes the original 3-chaptered story I planned. Everything posted after this will take place in this universe, but they will be able to be read as a stand-alone story unless mentioned otherwise in an A/N.

Thank you for reading!