Summary: "I know why you couldn't kill him." Malfoy stared, gasping for breath. "What?" She lowered her wand slightly. "You don't want to be one, but you have to." HBP SPOILERS--if you've read, you know who him is.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything. If I owned HBP, I would've NOT killed off Dumbledore.
A/N: As you can imagine, I AM VERY UPSET about Dumbledore's killing. But I was very happy to see Draco's weak side in the book. Turns out there's hope for him for being a good guy after all! Now, being the HP nerd I am, I finished the book as many of you did (but that doesn't mean you're a nerd. I just meant it in a loving sense haha J ). But I'm not sure if a lot of the Ginny/Draco fans have b/c I'm warning you now that this IS a G/D fic. Give it a try if you'd like--I read a story once that involved Harry/Ginny and then it threw in Draco and then she ended up with him! Then, I realized my love for that pairing. Now, I'm warning you. If you haven't read HPB and don't like Harry/Ginny (but you COULD always give it a try!), then stray away from this fic. Thanks!
Prologue
Dumbledore's Words
Muffled voices floated down the staircase, his knuckles white as they gripped tightly around his wand. His heart caught in his chest, his breath shallow in the darkness. He raced up the stone stairs wildly, his heart thumping, his mouth clamped tight, afraid it might jump out his throat. He reached the door, grabbing the iron ring and flung it open. He caught a glimpse of silver--a silver beard, immediately lifting his wand. "Expelliarmus!"
His gray eyes followed the wand, flying over the edge of the ramparts. His heart lapsed back to its normal beat, satisfied as he glanced over the pathetic, old wizard, leaning against the walls, wandless. His face was rather white, devoid of any panic or distress to his disappointment. His twinkling eyes locked with his. "Good evening, Draco."
He stepped forward, glancing around quickly for any others, his eyes resting upon a second broom. "Who else is here?" Panic flitted across his face quickly before disappearing.
"A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?"
His eyes trailed over to Dumbledore. "No," he said, attempting an intimidating voice. "I've got backup. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight." His mouth was oddly dry.
"Well, well," Dumbledore said. Slightly baffled and irritated, he noted Dumbledore's air as though he was showing him a homework project. "Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?"
Draco brimmed with pride, panting slightly from his hurried run up the staircase. "Yeah. Right under your nose and you never realized!" Especially proud, he studied Dumbledore's impassive face.
"Ingenious," the wizened wizard said. "Yet…forgive me…where are they now? You seem unsupported."
"They met some of your guards. They're having a fight down below. They won't be long…I came on ahead. I- I've got a job to do." The part he deeply dreaded--his hand shook violently.
"Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy," Dumbledore said softly.
A lingering silence fell between them. He struggled within himself, a screaming voice inside his head yelling, urging him to kill the man. Another part reluctantly obeyed, preferring to stare at Dumbledore. His hand shook violently now, his fingers almost slipping off his wand.
Suddenly, a smile cracked across the wizard's face. "Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."
"How do you know?" he said at once. A part of him agreed; the other screamed at the wizard in rage. Kill him now. As the seconds flew by, he suddenly realized how childish his words were. His face flushed immediately, panic glittering in his eyes. "You don't know what I'm capable of. You don't know what I've done!" What had he done?
Dumbledore nodded knowingly. His twinkling, sapphire eyes slowly deepened to a deep, blood red, a smirk playing across his now white face. The snake-like face of Lord Voldemort smirked at him, cackling. Fire burned through his body, spreading from his legs to his face. He screamed in agony, the pain searing through him like daggers piercing his skin--
Dumbledore stared back at him. He pitifully watched his old face. "Severus," he croaked. Snape shoved him aside roughly, revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face. It scared him as he watched Snape slowly raising his wand. "Severus…please…" Snape raised it, pointing directly at Dumbledore. He watched in horror as he saw his Potions Master's lips move, forming the words. "Avada Kedavra!" The green light illuminated Dumbledore's tired face as it hit him in the chest. He watched as Dumbledore flew into the air, disappearing from sight over the battlements. Draco watched in horror, his hand loosening considerably on his wand. Something burned in his eyes--
"No!" He shot up, cold sweat dripping down his face, the horror etched permanently on his pale face. The moonlight flooded through his window, illuminating the room, his covers falling off him as he slipped out of his bed to the glass window, the breeze playing across his face as it slipped through the crack. A deep, permanent fog swirled around the manor, a mark of the Dementors. He gripped the ledge tightly, his knuckles white in the milky moonlight.
The memories replayed over and over in his head, the image of his Headmaster, whom he disliked for his oddness and fond love of Mudbloods, falling over the tower. Like that day, horror lingered on his face at the memory and the haunting dreams. From the day the Dark Mark burned on his arm, he found himself replaying Dumbledore's chilling words in his head. "You are not a killer." It was true; he avoided killing as much as he could in his service for the Dark Lord.
Hadn't Dumbledore offered him to come to the Light side? He could've offered much more protection than Snape could, he knew that. Why had he watched him die, helplessly in horror, allowing himself to be dragged from the tower and brought safely back to Spinner's End? His eyes burned again at the thought. Tears fell slowly down his cheeks.
He didn't know what to do anymore. He followed the Dark Lord and his orders reluctantly, watching in horror as the words escaped his lips and the green flash took their lives. Though he had killed many times now, every night he climbed into bed, the same dream--the same memories--replayed over and over, a deep guilt lingering in the pit of his stomach until he exploded into sobs of rage. If he didn't follow the Dark Lord's orders, his family would die. He would die. Why did he have this weakness? He'd watch his father kill many times with no remorse. And yet, Draco lumbered home each night, crying in his bed.
He had no comfort--no one was there to help. Not even a ghost who lingered in the bathrooms…who listened to his problems. He gasped, wiping away the tears streaming down his face, gripping the ledge tightly. "Why--aren't--I--a--KILLER!" With every word, his voice rose, and his temper flared, the papers on his desk bursting into flames. He immediately dosed the papers with water from his wand, tears falling uncontrollably from the tip of his nose.
"Damn Dumbledore! Damn him…damn him." His words faded from the air as he quieted, silent tears welling in his eyes, dripping down his chin onto his bare chest. He stared down at his left arm, the repulsive skull glaring at him, shining in the moonlight. He was a killer--what did that Muggle-loving Dumbledore know?
As he slipped back between his sheets, he still replayed the surprise and shock on Nox's face, illuminated by the green light, and the high-pitched cackling of Lord Voldemort's ringing in his ears. The guilt lingered in the pits of his stomach still, his hand shaking at the thought.
A/N: Short, yes, I know! But it's a prologue, forgive me. Those who decided to read and think they hate G/D, then thanks a lot and please keep going to check this out! You never know if you like it or not. Those who just love G/D, then thank you for checking this little fic out! It helps a lot if you could share your thoughts about this and HBP in a REVIEW! Hint hint. Thanks a lot!