Disclaimer: Any characters, settings, plot, and dialogue you recognize belongs to the genius that is J. K. Rowling.
AU. Cedric Diggory is not dead, Sirius Black is not dead.
CHAPTER ONE
June, 1996.
In the end, Draco just didn't have the stomach for it. Bellatrix had come prancing through the door with several unconscious muggles in tow, insisting he at least watch as she woke and tortured them one by one, killing them slowly on the dining hall floor. She'd then vanished what was left of the bodies, and, with her hands still stained red, had grabbed his face and laughed and shrieked delightfully about how he would soon take the Mark and how she had so much to teach him. The hollow insanity in her eyes made the hair on the back of Draco's head stand on end, and even Lucius looked mildly disgusted by the bits of entrails dangling from his sister-in-law's nails.
So Draco packed his things and left the Manor in the middle of the night, just weeks before his induction into the Death Eater ranks. Snape found him in three days, hiding in a cottage by the Scottish coast, and taken Draco to his house on Spinner's End.
"Why are you helping me?" Draco had asked.
"That is none of your concern," said Snape, ending the discussion.
Draco spent most of July learning Occlumency and Legilimency from his godfather between extended lessons in Potions and Ancient Magic. As July turned to August, he'd been summoned to meet with Dumbledore.
The door to the headmaster's office was cracked open, and Draco paused when he heard Snape's lowered voice, strained and furious.
"If you had only summoned me a little earlier, I might have been able to do more, buy you more time! Did you think that breaking the ring would break the curse?"
"Something like that," Dumbledore murmured pensively. "I was delirious, no doubt…." He sighed. "Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward. I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me."
Behind the door, Draco let out a surprised choke, and the men went silent. The door creaked open, and Snape pulled him in.
"I ran away," Draco mumbled.
"You must return," Snape snapped. "I informed the Dark Lord that you were not yet ready. As far as any of them know, you are refining your skills under my tutelage."
Dumbledore's twinkling, seemingly all-knowing eyes had always made Draco uncomfortable in the past, and did not fail to do so now. "I apologize for asking so much of you, Draco, but I can see no other way around it."
Draco couldn't keep from wringing his hands, fingers twitching in apprehension. "I'll have to take the Mark if I go back."
"I am aware of that. But the Order cannot simply rely on Severus as our only spy. Lord Voldemort's following is once again growing, and it has become too much for him to keep track of alone."
"And - and this plan...?"
"The Dark Lord does not expect you to succeed," Snape scowled. "This is merely punishment for Lucius's recent failures. Slow torture for your parents, while they watch you fail and pay the price."
"In short, you have a death sentence pronounced upon you as surely as I have," Dumbledore added gently, gesturing to his blackened and burned right hand. "Now, I should have thought the natural successor to the job, once Draco fails, is yourself?"
There was a short pause before Snape replied.
"That, I think is the Dark Lord's plan."
"Lord Voldemort forsees a moment in the near future when he will not need a spy at Hogwarts?"
"He believes the school will soon be in his grasp, yes."
"And if it does fall into his grasp," said Dumbledore, almost, it seemed, as an aside, "I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students of Hogwarts?"
Snape gave a stiff nod.
"Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done if Draco is to be saved from Lord Voldemort's wrath."
Draco raised his eyebrows but Snape's tone was sardonic.
"Are you intending to let him kill you?" he spat.
"Certainly not. You must kill me."
There was a long silence as Snape furrowed his brow and Draco massaged his temples in an attempt to ease his growing headache.
"Would you like me to do it now?" Snape asked. "Or would you like a few moments to complose an epitaph?"
"Oh, not quite yet," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I daresay the moment will present itself in due course. Given what has happened tonight," he indicated his withered hand, "we can be sure that it will happen within a year."
"If you don't mind dying," Snape said roughly, "why not let Draco do it?"
Draco let out a huff of protest.
"His soul is not yet so damaged. I would not have it ripped apart on my account."
"And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?"
"You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation. I ask this one great favor of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year's league."
He smiled when Draco chuckled, the laugh dying as Snape shot his godson a disapproving glance.
"I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved - I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it."
Draco's nose wrinkled at the mention of his aunt, but Snape gave a curt nod, and Dumbledore seemed satisfied.
"Thank you, Severus…"
There was yet another drawn out silence before Draco voiced his own question.
"And what would you have me do, Headmaster?"
"Once I am dead, you will completely abandon the Dark Lord. Severus will send you the Order's headquarters. Show them this memory. They will take you in."
June, 1997.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Draco shrieked, watching, frozen, as Dumbledore's wand tumbled from his hand. His thundering heart stuttered and plummeted to the bottom of his stomach.
His hand began to tremble as his aunt approached with the other Death Eaters and he heard Dumbledore's voice in his mind.
Do not worry, Draco. The image of a narrow, rather dilapidated old house flashed in his mind's eye. This is 12 Grimmauld Place. Make your way there as soon as you can.
Snape strode to forward and raised his wand, hesitating.
I have faith in you.
"Severus…. Please…."
Dumbledore's eyes flicked to Draco one last time and Draco flinched but refused to look away.
Best of luck.
"Avada Kedavra."
Running after the other Death Eaters towards the main gates, Draco stumbled down the slope only to be pushed onward by Snape.
"Did he give you a location?"
"Y - Yes."
"Good. Collect anything you need from Spinner's End before you go."
Snape shoved him forward and turned to face an equally shaken Potter.
"Go, Draco!"
By some miracle, he arrived at Spinner's End in one piece, grabbing his rucksack from where it lay next to the door in the spare bedroom. He hurried back down the stairs to Snape's storage room, dropping a few vials of dittany into his bag before closing his eyes and disapparating, the image of 12 Grimmauld Place steady in his mind.
When his vision cleared, Sirius Black was standing over him, wand pointed at his neck.
"How did you find us?"
"Dumbledore."
Sirius frowned. Two pops signalled the arrivals of Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody.
Lupin's face was drawn and pale with grief. "Sirius, Albus is - "
"Remus, we've got a visitor."
Three more wands rose to Draco's face. He cleared his throat nervously. "Let me explain."
"This better be a damn good story, laddy boy," Moody snapped, "seein' how Dumbledore's dead an' ye've just ran away from th' murder."
Draco slowly raised his own wand to touch his temple, drawing out the memory of his meeting with Dumbledore and Snape over the summer.
"Do you have a pensieve?"
to be continued.