"Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean." -Maya Angelou

*

Draco feels Darcy walk away from him, but he's too enticed to look away from the red and green magic that is happening right in front of his eyes. Voldemort doesn't look good; his green light is lesser compared to Harry's red magic, and it's only getting worse. Draco finds himself silently pleading that Harry will win. He always has before.

Then, Voldemort's speck of green light explodes and backfires, hitting him in the chest and successfully killing him. He falls to the ground, as does Harry, out of fatigue. All is still; then, Harry walks cautiously over to the body to examine it, but Draco knows he's dead. He was killed by his own spell.

Rejoicing starts almost immediately. Death Eaters start to flee unless they've been bound by Aurors, the dementors fly back to Azkaban, and the remaining forces of Voldemort's army retreat. They've lost, once and for all.

Draco looks for his parents, wondering what they'll do. Run? Hide? Plead insanity and hope to hold onto their reputation?

But Harry finds him first. Draco can't find anything to say, but it's alright because Harry talks for him.

  "I believe this belongs to you," Harry says, holding out Draco's wand. "Take it, I don't need it anymore."

Draco grins and takes his beloved wand from Harry, feeling the familiar warmth spread over his whole body. "Thanks."

"Thanks for not taking it earlier," Harry answers. "I would've died otherwise."

He lets Harry walk away, still twirling his wand. Draco spots his parents hastily walking towards him and meets them halfway. His mother embraces him tightly, and his father puts a hand on his shoulder.

  "We're going home," Narcissa tells him.

Draco is about to agree when another thought races across his mind. "Wait." He searches the premises for Darcy, who'd walked away from him for whatever reason during the last moments of the battle. He doesn't see her from his place. "You two go, I'll be there later. I promise."

His parents nod to each other and at him, then start to depart. Draco starts in the other direction, looking for Darcy. Where would she go? He tries retracing his steps, going back to where they were standing when she walked away. He searches the entire courtyard, most of the castle, and the grounds before giving up. Where the hell did she disappear to?

He hears someone say, "...bunch of people sent to St. Mungos for their injuries..." in passing. Darcy could be there, but she didn't have any fatal injuries. At least, before she wandered off. Thinking this is the only place she could be, Draco Apparates there, hoping his hunch is right. A nurse directs him to the sixth floor, where most of the victims are being treated.

Draco walks down the white washed halls, searching each room for Darcy. It appears that she's not here; Draco feels his worry migrate to his heart and lungs. Where the hell is she?

"Draco!" a high-pitched voice calls to him. Turning he sees Luna Lovegood, a kooky Ravenclaw, waving him over.

"What?" he asks, trying to put some softness in his panicky voice.

"Are you looking for Darcy?" she asks.

Draco is taken back. "How did you know?"

Luna shrugs slowly. "I saw you together during the battle, and also multiple times in Hogsmeade. I figured you were friends."

Draco just nods. "Do you know where she is?"

"I saw her in the lobby," Luna reveals. "She appeared to be looking for you."

  "I was just down there," Draco says. "Do you know where she might've gone?"

Luna shakes her head. "I'm afraid not. I'm sorry."

  "It's alright." Draco starts back for the lobby, turning to say thank you at the last second. Once on the bottom floor again, he asks the receptionist if he's seen her. He says no. Frustrated, Draco exits the building, trying to think of where else she would go.

Then, a thought occurs to him as he walks away. After she cast her Patronus, she said that Azkaban hadn't destroyed her. But could she get to Azkaban? And would she really want to go there? No, she wouldn't, he's just being irrational now--

  "Draco!" He looks up just in time to see Darcy run into his arms. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

     "Did he hurt you? Scabior, did he hurt you at all?"

Darcy's hand moves to her side. "Two broken ribs. And that gash across my chest. But that's why I went to St. Mungos. I'm fine now."

Draco pulls her into him again, finally breathing fully. "I love you."

  "I love you, too."

*

"Did you get your wand back?" Darcy asks later. Draco had taken them back to Malfoy Manor. His parents have disappeared, but he knows where they went and when they'll be back. Darcy is healing some of Draco's burns and cuts when she asks.

  "Yeah." Draco starts to play with it.

  "You should try that Patronus again."

Draco watches her place her wand along his face to heal a cut. Then, he grips her waist and pulls her to sit beside him so he'll have room to try. He conjures his happiest memories all in one cloud and says the magic words.

To his surprise and delight, silver jets out of his wand. It starts forming an animal, and when it takes shape, Draco realizes why it's taking the form of a phoenix. He smiles once the silver disappears, turning to Darcy, who appears confused.

"A bird?"

  "A phoenix," he tells her. "They're fire birds. Red and orange. They never die; they catch flame and are reborn from the ashes. They're very strong, and their tears have healing powers. Remind you of anyone?"

Darcy can only stare at him. "I don't know anyone with healing tears."

Draco laughs. "It's you. I mean, you're not a phoenix, but I think symbolically it makes perfect sense." Darcy's expression turns curious. "You love fire. Azkaban never killed you—you came out of there alive and sane each time. You're strong, physically and mentally, and even if yours tears don't have healing powers, you definitely do. You've always patched me up, made sure I was alright. You helped me through the roughest year of my life, for which I am eternally grateful."

"You're making it seem like I'm a good person—"

  "You are," Draco insists. "You have the best intentions, but sometimes that dark energy of yours overpowers you. It's happened to me. But I know you're a different person than the one I met in Azkaban over a year ago."

"Who's to blame for that?" Darcy questions. "You."

Draco wraps his arms around her. "For simplicity's sake, we'll say that we both healed each other where it needed healing, okay?"

Darcy lifts herself up to reach his lips in between hers. They fit perfectly—two pieces of a puzzle—and move in unison until they need to breath. They move perfectly all night, even in slumber, when their breathing is identical. A dragon and a phoenix making love to light an inextinguishable fire.