A/N: Draco falls asleep after drinking his hot chocolate and his nightmares come for him again.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
He was running, oh god, was he running. He could hear his shoes hitting the stone floor as he ran through the school and up the stairs from the Slytherin dungeons. His breaths were hard and fast and his legs hurt, but he couldn't rest. He had to get to the Room of Requirement. He had to make sure the Cabinet was working. Aunt Bella and the other Death Eaters would be entering the other one any minute and he didn't know what would happen if this one wasn't open.
He was on the sixth floor landing. Just one more to go. But then he stopped. There before him was the same man he was supposed to kill. He was wearing magnificent robes of purple and his blue eyes twinkled as he stood in the dimly lit hallway.
"Draco, you're not a killer," the old man said as he extended a kind hand.
Draco wanted to shout at the old man. He was a Death Eater. He bore the mark. He was raised in evil and taught to kill, though he never actually killed anyone yet. He could be a killer when the time came.
But his mouth opened and he said, "No, I'm not."
"I know, son," Dumbledore nodded. He extended his hand out further towards Draco. "Come with me. Let me help you."
He could feel the warm tears flowing down his cheeks, but he wasn't crying, was he?
"No! No one can help me! I have to do this alone or he'll kill me! He'll kill my family!" Draco shouted.
But still the man offered his hand and said, "You don't have to do this alone. Come with me. I can help you and your mother. I can protect you."
Maybe the old man really could help him. He was the lightest wizard of the day. He moved forward to grab the wise professor's hand. He moved forward to seize salvation and redemption.
But the old wizard fell onto his back, frozen stiff. Draco blinked and saw his wand in his hand pointed at where the man once stood. "No! No! No!" Draco screamed as he threw his wand on the ground with a clatter. He had killed his one shot at truly saving himself and his family.
A cold hand came out of the shadows and gripped his shoulder. "You have done well, Draco," a gasping voice said. The man slithered before him, his long black cloak billowing as it ghosted above the cold stone floor. He stood over the downed wizard to check if the deed was done.
"Excellent," the snake-like man hissed before stepping up to Draco.
He put the tip of his wand under the young boy's chin. "Congratulations are in order. You surpassed expectations, boy. Your family will go down in history and you will be remembered fondly. But you have extended your usefulness."
Green light filled his vision and Draco woke up back in the kitchens, sitting at the long wooden table. His heart was racing and he put a hand on his chest to slow it down. He could still see the green light blocking out the evil man's face. He had seen his own death at the hand of a madman.
Draco reached for the mug. He needed something to calm his nerves. But the mug was empty now. "Fuck!" he said under his breath.
Where was that little house-elf? Then his eyes landed on a small girl in a large nightshirt who he thought was in his year. She waved sheepishly, "Hello, there."