They were looking, but I didn’t care.
I ran to him anyway. “Potter!” I cried, then ran across the expanse between Death Eaters and Hogwarts defenders to Harry’s side.
“Are you with us, Draco?” he asked me, searching my face for the truth. “Are you really with us? Because if not, that little stunt could have cost you your life for nothing.”
“I’m with you till the end, Harry…always,” I answered. I didn’t know why, but I sensed he really needed to hear that last word. I dropped my Occlumency shields and let him see everything. After staring into my eyes for what seemed like ages, he finally nodded.
“Then stand beside us, Draco…take your place and fight your former master,” he stated.
“He was never truly my master, Harry, I hope you know that. I took the Mark because I had to, to save my family, but I was never truly with him, no matter what I said.”
“I know, Draco. Now show everyone else, take your place beside us and prepare to fight.”
I willingly stood beside him, the savior of the wizarding world, the Chosen One, my one true friend—Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived—and hoped his luck continued to hold out for just a little bit longer. I raised my wand, aimed it at Voldemort and his Death Eaters—yes, even at my father—and prepared to fight.