Draco Malfoy ran. As soon as his incantation on the Vanishing Cabinet worked, he was gone, running towards the Astronomy Tower. The urge to get as far from his aunt as possible had made him forget why he needed to get to the tower in the first place.
The young wizard was halfway up the stairs when it all came crashing back to him. Dumbledore. He was there to kill Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore. The reality made him feel sick as he fell against the wall. Though the headmaster had never really been a favorite of Draco's, he still held him in high regards.
His father had always told him that the wizard was an old fool, arrogant in his ability to scare the Dark Lord. Draco, however, privately disagreed. Once You-Know-Who had returned, Draco felt nothing but the highest respect for the old man. Anyone who could stand up to that monster without batting an eye deserved every ounce of respect Draco could give.
And now Draco had been sent to kill him. How was he even supposed to do it? Dumbledore had decades on him, he was just in his sixth year. This was impossible, it was suicide. Not to mention, Draco didn't want to kill anyone. He didn't believe in the cause his family was fighting for.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named never believed that Draco would succeed. That wasn't the point of this task. Sure, the Dark Lord wanted his old teacher dead, but Draco? Out of all of his loyal followers? No, this was a punishment. A punishment for his father's failure, and for Draco's true feelings.
Images flashed through his mind as he sank to the floor: chocolate brown eyes, that cute little smirk, all those lazy afternoons spent hidden away in a forgotten corner of the library. Laughter rang in his ears, a laughter reserved only for when she was able to one-up him. It gripped his heart, the thought of never hearing that laughter again.
The laughter was replaced with screams as images of those tortured in his own home took over. A young muggle girl who didn't understand what was happening, an old wizard who had fought in the first war, and the Muggle Studies professor from Hogwarts. You-Know-Who had forced him to watch his Aunt Bellatrix torture those poor people. The message had been made clear: this will happen to her if you don't succeed.
"Get it together, Malfoy," he growled to himself. If you don't do this, Hermione will be... He couldn't finish the thought as he pushed himself up off the floor, ignoring the horrors trapped in his head.
When he reached the top, he didn't bother pausing. If he had, he never would have been able to continue on. His aunt and the others would have found him frozen to the spot and they would all know that he had failed. He couldn't fail.
Wand raised, he burst through the door, solidifying his future, her future. As scared and panicked as he was, he told himself that he would finish his mission, no matter the consequences. Maybe, just maybe, she would understand and forgive him. But even then, that didn't fully matter, because he would do anything to keep her safe. Even this.
The End