A/N: I don't know if this will be a chaptered fic or not. For the moment it's a burst of inspiration that was too good to ignore. Or at least I think it was too good to ignore. Most of it is in Draco's point of view, that of it that isn't is obvious. Contains major HBP SPOILERS. Anywho, read on.

A Different Kind Of Strength: Chapter One: Draco's Last Stand

What have I done? Why could I not do it? Who am I? When will I die? When? How will he kill me? Dear God, if you're up there, I don't want to die. I swear I didn't know what I was getting into, he threatened my mother…I never thought…I just thought it would be muggles. I'm sixteen!- I didn't think he'd ask me to take out Dumbledore…I didn't think…There's my great explanation God, I didn't think…I never think! God, if you're up there, please don't send me to hell. I just…I didn't think it would be so hard. I thought I was lucky, the Dark Lord had chosen ME to do this, the impossible. Me! I was special, I was singled out, singled out to die. Mum tried to convince me not to get, she tried to bribe me with new things, trips all over the world. God she even tried strippers…But NO, no I had to foolishly believe that I was ready, that I was, I don't know, enough, to take my fathers place…But I wasn't…Who did I think I was?

You thought you were a Malfoy, you thought you were king of the world. But you're not Draco…You're weak, your foolish. You can't even kill a man. You're pathetic. His conscience leered at him, reminding him of his father, a man he had once worshiped, the man he had once tripped over himself to talk to. And now the man whose memory brought shame.

WHY COULDN'T I KILL HIM? His mind wailed. What's wrong with me? Why couldn't I kill the man I was taught from birth to hate. He represents everything my father, God bless him, worked against, everything my MOTHER works against, everything my family has worked against since the beginning of our existence! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?

And why? WHY do his words echo in my head? I could be safe he said, HA! I'll never be safe, I've never been safe. Not since the day I was born. I've always been expected to be the bad guy. They've always expected me to be the same man my father is.

And why didn't that batty old man take me out? Even if he didn't have his wand, we all know that he has more than one trick up his sleeve. Why? Why would he allow himself to be killed for me? Why would someone die for me? The last thought echoed in his head. Why would someone die for him? He was an obnoxious overindulged brat, he knew that, and it didn't bother him. His father had killed for him, his mother had killed for him, but no one had died for him. Draco had no doubts that Dumbledore knew all about his assignment from You-Know-Who, so why would the man die for him? Why am I so weak? Why couldn't I just finish him like I was supposed to? The question lay in his mind. Because I'm not my father? Because I'm not a blind minion? Caring only of the needs and wants of a clearly power hungry Mudblood?

AND WHATS SO WRONG WITH THAT? His conscience bellowed, sounding exactly like his enraged father. Loud, frightening…and exciting.

Nothing is the matter with that. Aren't I allowed to question anything? He asked and then Mad-Eyed-Moody's words came back to him lyrically…Question everything…Right question everything…Uh huh…Bloody Idiot…So question, how do I not die? Do I go back to Voldemort? Do I go to the Order of the Phoenix, the Ministry. Okay, well the Ministry would be fantastically stupid...At the moment I-know-who and the Phoenix are bad options. Staying with Severus is a bad option. I go back to Him, and he kills me…I go to Them and they kill me…I stay here and He kills me…I'm dead…I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. Lucky me.

What if, what if I really could be safe? What if, what if I could convince them that I was dead…He sat and thought for several minutes in Severus' run down, dusty muggle home. How could he convince He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that he was indeed dead…Without being dead of course. Polyjuice wouldn't work, it would wear off too soon. What would Dumbledore have done? God, I suck at this…What can I do? What would my father do? His brain paused and then resumed it's Firebolt pace. What if…What if I caught Severus?- and brought him to the Order, they'll definitely want him…And they might know how Dumbledore hides people. God please! If you exist, help me please…

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Severus' mind was going in twenty different directions at once. He had to get rid of Draco, but killing him was on the 'no-no' list, so he wouldn't, for now. Though that did steal his easiest option. Doing what is right is different from doing what was easy. His brain cackled at him. Severus' frown deepened. He despised his conscience. Years and years ago, before he had quit ignoring it completely it had been nice, but lately it had become more and more sarcastic, and he despised it only for the fact that it was as clever as he.

His wounded ego was still throbbing in anger and shame. His own spells had been used against him again! He had been called cowardly, again! "I am NOT A COWARD!'' He screamed into the night. I am not. I AM NOT! He sighed and began pacing again. Loosing your mind will not help the matter any Severus. Back to the matter at hand, can I make the Dark Lord think that Draco died whilein confrontation against Albus? Do I have the time? I've got to get back to The Dark Lord, he'll be wondering what's become of us. Several more long minutes were spent wearing down a path in the grass that would stain the earth for months to come. That settles it then, he goes to the order. NOW.

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He crept back into the dilapidated hut he had pushed Draco into. Draco had been waiting, quietly boosting his courage up, much in the way he did before Quidditch matches. Thoughts of bravery, fan girls, and freedom echoed in his head, safety, love, comfort, things he'd long been without buoyed his courage. And when Professor Snape stepped back into their makeshift base the spell flew from Draco's wand. Stupefy, Petrificus Totalus. The spells he had learned in first year served him well, Severus hit the ground with a thud, and Draco couldn't help but smile. The secret to success is simplicity. Or at least it is sometimes. His mothers sarcasm finally made sense.

With some degree of difficulty Draco focused his mind on Hogsmead. Determination, Deliberation…aw bullocks…He swore before focusing completely on Hogs Head and casting the spell. He did not want to splinch himself or the Professor. He was sure splinching himself would not look good when he showed up at the castle door.

Apparently they had made McGonagle head of the school, until they decided what to do with the school that is.

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His body protested the walk from the edge of Hogsmead to the castle. For a moment he had been blissfully unaware that his muscles where protesting every movement. Gastric acid, was it gastric acid?- He honestly didn't know, anyways, whatever acid it was that makes muscles sore had built up to an impossible point, every movement took a mountain of effort. His body had been going too hard for months on end. This last trudge up the hill was his last stand. He was proving to himself that he was different from his father. Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen. For the moment however, Draco was content to throw himself and his bargaining chip into the arms of the order of the phoenix and trust they would do him some sort of justice.

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When the train rolled away from Hogwarts several faces, young and old plastered themselves up against the windows, mourning the loss of their school, their figure of hope. The possible loss of Hogwarts was painful as the loss of Dumbledore. Tears pricked at Harry's eyes again, how could this have happened? Isn't there a god? Some order to the universe? Some good being out there rooting for us? If you're up there, give us a break okay? He prayed, something he hadn't done since Vernon had refused to let Petunia go anymore due to the fact that the Vicar had called him an oaf. Harry had thought it was funny and hadn't gotten let out of the cupboard for a week.

How do we keep going? Who will run the Order? How do we do ANYTHING without Dumbledore guiding us? His fingers fiddled with the locket…And his mind wandered to the note inside.

I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more…R.A.B

Who is R.A.B? Harry went through the last names of all the wizarding family's whose last names ended with B. Bones, Bagman, Bole, Baddock…euh…Black…He froze, Black, Regulus Black. Regulus A. Black. Sirius' brother... "Hermione…" Harry said, dragging out her name. She looked up, she hadn't ever hear Harry use a tone of voice that made him sound so dreadful.

"Harry…" She answered, Ron was looking between them looking very confused.

"What was Regulus Black's middle name?" He asked carefully, praying once again that it would start with an A. Please God please, could it be this simple? Could it please? Just once make my life easier. He begged and pleaded and watched as Hermione's eye's lit up.

"I…well…that is to say…Wasn't it, ah, Alphred?" She said finally, blushing and looking pleased with herself.

"That actually makes sense Harry!" Ron cried. "I…he deserted the Death Eaters right?" At Harry's nodd Ron kept going. "So, what if the reason he deserted was because You-Know-Who was messing with things that ought not to be messed with, Immortality for example. What if he figured it out? Sirius never said he was stupid did he?" He asked, biting his lip, if he had been stupid then his theory was out the window.

"No he wasn't, Padfoot said he was the darling of his parents. I doubt his mum would tolerate stupidity." Harry said with a grin. He and Ron were grinning like maniac's, but Hermione was shaking her head.

"We have to consider all the options. What if it's a woman? What if it's more then one person? Oh never mind, that one was stupid the note's written in first person. Anyway, Reuglus is an option, but we need to keep them open. Anyways, what does knowing who wrote the note do for us?" She asked, stumping Harry and Ron. "It would be nice to know who other that Dumbledore figured it out, but it doesn't really help, unless of course he had the other ones too, or had suspicions to where they were.