A/N: I am SO sorry for the wait. I don't know what it is about this chapter, I've been working on it this entire time and it still took me this long to write. It's really been a struggle and I don't know why.

I'm not sure that I'm 100% satisfied, but I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer. I hope you still like it, I put a lot of effort into it and I tried quite hard this chapter to give some of the less-discussed characters a bit more depth.

Feedback is always appreciated and you guys are the BEST!

All rights to JK Rowling for Harry Potter, this is purely entertainment. The title of this chapter is from a Mumford & Sons song that I feel fits the whole story in some way. No copyright infringement intended.

Brave. He just needed to be brave.

Slytherins aren't brave, dumbshit. We're too smart to be brave. We like living too much to be brave.

But what if living required bravery?

Someone was going to die tonight, and Draco had a sinking feeling that it wasn't going to be Dumbledore. He couldn't do it. He knew that he couldn't. And now, he realized, Voldemort knew it too. Draco had not been selected to prove himself and his family to the Dark Lord. He had been chosen as Lucius' punishment because it was known that he would fail. Everyone thought him weak.

You are weak, Malfoy.

What was strength? What did it mean to be courageous? What would it be to rise above it all, to emerge as the protagonist, not the villain? Was that even possible?

Had he ever even had a chance?

Firewhiskey torpedoed down his throat as Draco mourned his life. He had never taken it seriously and he hadn't been thankful for what he had while he still had it.

A drink to life, a drink to death, and fifty drinks to self-pity.

"Draco?"

He tore his gaze from the fire and dragged them up to the voice that beckoned him. It was the last face that he wanted to see—well, no, but close to—but he didn't scowl. He didn't have the energy.

"Hi, Pans."

She stepped toward him with trepidation. There was nervousness about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on, though he didn't really care.

"What are you doing?" Pansy asked quietly, now standing beside where he sat on the floor.

"I'm getting pissed," he stated evenly. "Why?"

"Why?" She repeated back incredulously. "Why are you getting wasted in the middle of the week?"

"Have a chat with daddy today?" Draco demanded in a mocking, sing-song voice. "Did he tell you to be careful, to stay out of the way if anything bad happens?"

She stared at him with wide eyes. Distantly, Draco realized that this had been the most honest encounter he'd ever had with the girl. Funny what fear does to a person…

"Do you hate me, Draco?" she whispered.

"Yes," he replied, without even a millisecond of hesitation. He stared at her hard now, the glassiness of the liquor suddenly absent from his eyes. "I hate everything about you, Pansy."

Pansy considered for a moment, less affected than Draco had expected. "You know, you can despise me as much as you want for hating the blood traitor bitch, but at least I was honest. I wanted you. There were no secrets and I didn't have some hidden agenda. I know you all think I'm a cunt, but at least I had the courage to admit to who I was."

Draco didn't blink as the fire cracked away in front of him. "Why did you come here?"

"From what my father said—"

"If he blabbed, I'll have his balls for breakfast," Draco interrupted savagely. "I mean that. I don't know how he even got wind of it in the first place."

"He didn't blab," Pansy huffed. "All I could get out of him was that something was going to happen, and I've figured out that you're somehow at the centre of it."

He took another swig. "And?"

"And," she continued, annoyed, "as I've just confirmed that you hate me, I wanted to see if I should be hightailing it out of the school."

"Christ, Pansy," Draco gasped out in genuine disbelief, quickly taking the flask away from his mouth. "What do you think I am, some sort of fucking bounty hunter? I'm not bloody trying to collect heads for my trophy cabinet. Fuck sakes," he breathed, bringing the firewhiskey back up.

Pansy snatched it from his hands. "That's enough for now, I think," she whispered fiercely, a troubled look on her face. "How am I supposed to know what you are? I don't know a thing about you. So you don't have a price on my head?"

"Merlin's beard," he muttered, staring listlessly into the fire and tucking his chin behind his knees. "No, I don't have a fucking price on your head. Just because I can't stand you doesn't mean I want you murdered! Bloody hell, woman!"

She shrugged unapologetically. "Had to make sure."

"Gods, you really are barking," he moaned.

"Maybe, but I'm not stupid."

Draco regarded her. "Shockingly, no," he agreed. "So why do you try your damnedest to make everyone think otherwise?"

At this, Pansy smiled as she crouched beside him, and it was a downright terrifying sight to Draco.

"Because," she murmured silkily, running one of her long fingernails along his jaw line, "people start noticing when you have something to offer. Someone might take advantage."

He snatched her finger and glared murderously at her. "Don't touch me, Parkinson."

She laughed mirthlessly into his ear, her breath ghosting down his neck. "I wanted to hate you for sharing your bed with that muggle slut," she whispered harshly. "But even when I tried, I never could… I still can't."

"You need to leave. Now," Draco said coldly, refusing to take his eyes away from the fire.

She sighed and stood after a few moments. "I don't know what you're up to, but I hope that you know what you're doing," Pansy said softly, in a tone of voice that he couldn't quite decipher.

He listened as her footsteps grew more distant, his mind buzzing, his fingers tapping anxiously. Finally, his resolve broke and Draco called out her name.

Startled, Pansy spun and stared back at him. "Yeah?"

"Stay out of the halls tonight," he sighed tiredly.

She nodded slowly, waiting for a few moments before starting up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

This was not the life that he wanted.

Too bad it's the only one you've got.

Kathleen,

Meet me in Gryffindor common room at half past nine. It's urgent.

Don't come before then. I'll explain once you get here.

Seamus

She crumpled the note and set it aflame with her wand, feeling like it was meant for her eyes only. Kathleen had no idea what this was about, but she heeded Seamus' instructions and stayed put for the time being.

The encounter with Pansy had unnerved him. Was this the life of a Death Eater? People cowering at his feet and living in fear of him? Not so long ago, he would have relished the idea. The sheer power of it would have made him drunk with glee. Now, however, it just seemed like a lonely and embittered existence.

Who would choose to live that way?

Draco straightened his tie and marveled at the stupidity of it all. Why was he even bothering with a suit? Was he concerned about looking professional as he murdered a man in cold blood?

You really are a pompous wet, Malfoy.

He glanced up at the clock and tapped his foot anxiously. He would need to head to the room of requirement soon, but first, some business needed attending to.

Severus delicately placed each vial in its fabric sleeve before folding and tying the holder. He shrunk the thing and tucked it into one of the pockets of his robes. He didn't expect that he needed any of it, but allowing himself to be unprepared was about as unheard of as him frolicking in a field of daisies while laughing gaily with Dolores Umbridge.

Not so likely.

For the first time in many years, a sense of dread and quiet panic was drumming through him and he felt unsteady. For once, his gut had overruled rationality. The plan made enough sense, but he didn't like it. He didn't want to do it.

He would hate Albus Dumbledore with an inextinguishable rage that would burn through him until the day he died. Severus would never forgive the man for what he was forcing him to do.

Kathleen toyed with the idea of a disillusionment charm, but it wasn't even past curfew, so what was the point? She wasn't exactly a master of them, as her run-in with Snape had plainly proven. She decided that she might as well not waste her energy.

She hoped that everything was alright with Seamus and Dean. It was unnerving to be separated from her two closest for so much of the day, especially when everyone else was on edge. Maybe they would give in and let her stay in the common room through the—

"Mmph!"

A gloved hand had slapped over her mouth while another clamped around her waist and she was being pulled backwards sharply. Instinctively, Kathleen kicked up her legs and thrashed about, trying to loosen herself from the iron grip.

She was dragged and then dropped suddenly. As she tried to get her bearings and stand, a door slammed in front of her and she was ensconced in darkness. She groped around to find her attacker, but before she could find them, Kathleen felt something at her chest.

"Stupefy."

Kathleen felt a shock of energy surge through her system and her eyes snapped open as she gasped for breath. To her immediate panic, she realized that she had been bound with some sort of magic; a luminescent, blue-white line was wrapped around her wrists. Her knees had been pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around underneath them, with more of the charmed rope securing her limbs in place.

She shouldn't have been surprised, but seeing Draco's face an inch from hers gave her a start. "Malfoy?" she panted in disbelief.

"Indeed," he muttered evenly, tugging at her restraints to make sure they were tight enough and refusing to meet her eyes. Kathleen began blinking rapidly and wracking her brain for memories of the evening and before—any clue as to why she was here.

"You wrote the note," she breathed finally, jostling her arms a bit to see if there was enough give to wriggle them out from under her knees.

"So I did," he said calmly, then he motioned his head towards her squirming hands. "You needn't bother. I can assure you that it won't do any good."

Kathleen had suddenly become acutely aware of her own breathing and pulse. Tears betrayed the fear of her helplessness. "I don't understand. I did what you told me to. I stayed away and I didn't tell anyone," she whispered fiercely.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly, finally peering up at her with clear grey eyes. His voice was gentle, which was a dead giveaway to Kathleen that he was about to do the exact opposite. She struggled harder, a frustrated whimper escaping her lips as she fought frantically (uselessly) to free herself. He put his hands firmly on her shoulders and forced her still, not taking his eyes away from hers. "I won't hurt you, O'Malley."

Kathleen's face darkened as she failed to shake him away. "Don't call me that."

"O'Malley!" he spat back defiantly, glaring venomously at her before he looked down and forced his composure back. "I'm helping you."

"Consider it from my point of view and you might see how I'm not getting that message," she snarled, now more confused than ever.

"You're too bleeding violent to have ever allowed me to get this done in a reasonable amount of time," he explained simply.

"You fucking attacked me!"

"Not quite so, but consider it a gift for being an enormous pain in my ass for the past year," he muttered tempestuously.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" she bellowed. For a moment, Draco's confidence seemed to falter and he swallowed dryly. He looked away from her and seemed to collect himself.

"Hogwarts isn't safe tonight, especially for you. I needed to hide you."

"You think tying me up is going to make me safer?" she demanded. "What the hell is going on?!"

"You'll know by the end of the night," he sighed cryptically before staring hard at her. "There will be other Death Eaters here this evening. Knowing you, you'd go right in the thick of it and get yourself captured. This was the only thing that I could think of, given the circumstances…"

"What—"

Kathleen was about to spew expletives and questions, but Draco swirled his wand around her head and more of the blue-white bind materialized. He took the opportunity to hold her jaw open and pull the line back into her mouth, effectively gagging her. He released it and the magicked rope tightened automatically around her, ensuring that she wouldn't be able to speak.

Kathleen snarled through the gag and she was quite confident that her eyes would be able to communicate her feelings about the situation.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, stroking her cheek with his thumb almost tenderly before his expression hardened. "But you have to listen to me and there's no time for any questions or talking back."

He closed his eyes for several moments and was making an effort to steady his breath. "Okay. First of all, I want you to see this for what it is. You took an Unbreakable for me, and it would be a damn waste for you to die the night that you're to be released from it. Malfoy's can't cope with debts on their shoulders, so consider us even for making the Vow now. I was told a few nights ago that your grandmother is offering a reward for whoever picks you up and brings you to her. I knew as soon as you'd heard that there were Death Eaters in the castle, you'd get all noble and try to fight with one so you could find out where Bridget was."

Kathleen felt her stomach drop at this new information, and her brain was racing a mile a minute. Stupid bastard! She thought furiously, he has to let me speak, he has to!

"And believe me when I tell you that there is nothing more idiotic that you could do," he continued harshly. "None of them will know where she is. She's not where the Dark Lord's set up camp, so their guess would be as good as yours. So don't go and get yourself killed after tonight on a wild goose chase, either. You have no way of finding her and no resources to get her back. The only hope you have is Potter's Order of the Phoenix. They're tracking the Death Eaters and their activity, so they've already got more information and manpower on it than you'll get. And if you think they'll let you join, you're out of your mind. You're too young.

"What you need to focus on is staying hidden. If tonight goes as planned, there will be wizards whose job it is to round up Mudbloods and blood traitors like you. Stay out of magical places, don't use magic, and don't use your name. If you fade back into muggle society, it'll be much harder for them to find you. Do you understand?"

Kathleen continued to glare, but with nothing else to do but listen, she nodded.

"Good. Now, back to tonight. I've set up wards on this door so that if someone happens to unlock it—though I don't know why anyone would—your binds will dissolve. Before I leave, I'll put your wand in your hands. If that door opens, you're not waiting to see who's come to visit, you are stunning them and asking questions later. If you're left alone—which you will be, since this is a damned broom closet and no one will be able to hear you—then the wards will break when I can't maintain them any longer, so when I'm off the grounds, or…" He swallowed. "Or if I get attacked."

She cocked her head at this and mentally willed him to undo her gag so that she could get answers to the millions of questions that were buzzing in her head.

He took a deep breath and pulled the gag from her mouth with his wand.

"Please don't, please—" she began desperately, but it seemed that he still wasn't satisfied with having talked enough.

"Thank you for helping me this year. I hope for both our sakes that this is the last time that you'll have to see me."

He leaned in and cupped his hand behind her neck. Kathleen tried to speak, tried to protest, but when he ran his cheek against hers, Kathleen stilled and quieted. Malfoy pulled back an inch to look at her, and his steely grey eyes provided her with no explanation or reason. All she could see was a sense of calm, which told her nothing. She hated him. She hated him for putting her in the dark and forcing her to stay there. She hated the masks he wore and the ease with which he changed them.

She hated that she would never know who he was.

His lips grazed hers and Kathleen felt her eyes closing, melting into the serene familiarity of Draco Malfoy. She knew this part. She understood this part. His lips captured hers urgently and he was moving against her with the fuel of his pain, his anger, and his motive for succeeding in doing whatever it was he was going to do tonight. She deepened the kiss, allowing herself to fade into the moment, where it was just the two of them and nothing was complicated and nothing mattered because there wasn't anything more perfect, more whole than what they had right then.

Then she bit him. Hard.

Kathleen thought that Draco would have jumped back, but it almost seemed that he had been expecting it. She felt him smile against her lips before he pulled back and let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

"Glad to see that you've learned something after all of this," he muttered, wiping the blood on his chin with the sleeve of his suit and hooking a finger under the loop that had served as her gag.

"NO! You can't—mmph!"

Draco brushed his thumb across her cheek and tucked her wand in between her bound hands. "Don't do anything stupid once I'm gone," he murmured before standing again. He strode to the door and paused for several moments. When he finally turned, he was looking at her like he couldn't make up his mind about something. Suddenly, he took a sharp inhale and knelt down to her, fiercely placing a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Then he was gone.

Draco's pace was rather casual, considering the situation.

He felt calm. He was going to die tonight, yet the thought didn't bother him. He knew it, and somehow it was alright. Besides, he would rather be dead than have to live out the remainder of his days like he had been. Draco wasn't cut out for being a Death Eater. Despite all of the talk and his bloodline, he simply did not have it in him.

He thought of no one else but himself as he came to the wall where the room of requirement appeared. Snape, his parents and even O'Malley were pushed away, because they might sway him and make him fear his certain demise. Draco closed his eyes.

I need the room where the Vanishing Cabinet is hidden.

A large, ornate door carved itself into the stone and opened.

He took a deep, filling breath and he stepped forward. Draco knew the way to the cabinet as well as he knew the inside of the manor; his feet moved independently toward it without thought.

So many hours, and it all ends here.

Tonight.

He opened the cabinet and placed a piece of parchment in it as signal that he was ready for them to come. Almost as soon as he'd closed it, the door burst back open and his aunt sashayed out of it, followed by Fenrir, Nott, Crabbe, and an older woman he didn't recognize.

Are you sure about that?

He squinted, then his stomach jumped to his throat. Her silver-grey hair had wisps of a familiar shade of rusty gold…

"Who is this?" Draco sneered, intentionally curling his lips up at the stranger and injecting as much disdain as possible into his voice. His father had taught him that arrogant disgust was the best way to project confidence.

"Now, now, Draco," Bellatrix tutted, sweeping towards him and wrapping a sinewy arm around his back, "do remember your manners, dear nephew."

He raised an eyebrow at the woman, who had now turned. There was a smile that he'd seen before, but this one brought him no comfort. Her clear green eyes projected a wise sort of venom; a terrifying look that told him she not only knew how to perform the tasks her Death Eater robes necessitated, but that she felt absolutely at home with murder at her fingertips.

Draco knew exactly who this woman was.

"It's quite alright, Bellatrix, I expect the boy's a bit riled up for the night ahead of him," she said in an Irish accent that was even thicker than O'Malley's. "My name is Rosalind Clancey. I suspect that you've met my pathetic excuse for a granddaughter Kathleen—she was sorted into your house."

He bristled at the mention of O'Malley but knew better than to let it show. "Pathetic is an understatement. Bloody embarrassment would be a touch more accurate," he sneered with impressive sincerity—or what sounded like it, anyway. "But what are you doing here? I didn't request you. I've never even heard of you."

Kathleen's grandmother gave a tight smile and she spoke with similar sharpness. "I don't serve you, Malfoy. I am doing the work of my Lord and because of my continued loyalty, he has been gracious enough to allow me to collect the last of my traitorous family and attempt to discipline her for her actions."

Involuntarily, Draco's eyes went a bit wild with her words and he desperately tried to keep his face from falling.

"We all have one rotten egg," Bellatrix muttered darkly, "no matter. Come. Dear Severus told us that we ought to go down to the first floor to attack."

Draco steeled himself and began to follow behind his aunt when a creak came from behind them. Bellatrix turned and smirked. "Oh, of course!" she squealed—perhaps a bit mockingly, though Draco couldn't tell what the fuck went on in the bird's head these days. "I had almost forgotten your surprise."

He turned, confused, and was faced by Antonin Dolohov. Draco's failure to understand was only heightened until he realized that Dolohov had been in Azkaban.

If he's here, then…

Behind Dolohov, a weathered, shaken man emerged. His face was gaunt and unshaven, his eyes dead and his long hair shaggy and limp. This was no man that Draco knew.

And yet the man that stood before him was unmistakably Lucius Malfoy.

"Let's leave the father and son to enjoy their little reunion," Bellatrix whispered in a cruel laugh, and Draco heard her heels click towards the door from behind him. "Tonight, Dumbledore dies!" She screamed, her shrill voice reverberating off of the vast walls.

Draco stared at his father, completely dumbfounded. Lucius couldn't seem to look at him, and he stood there, blinking, fists clenched.

Suddenly, Lucius stepped forward and embraced Draco tightly.

"Draco…" Lucius whispered fiercely into Draco's ear. He had to fight the urge to jerk back—this wasn't how his father acted and this wasn't how tonight was supposed to go. Luckily, Lucius seemed to remember himself and he pulled away awkwardly.

When was the last time Lucius touched you with something other than his cane?

Who is this man?

"Father," he returned fairly steadily, though there was the slightest of tremors in his voice. "It's… good to see you."

"Yes," Lucius agreed crisply, obviously trying to regain a scrap of his pride.

They were silent for what felt like hours.

"Draco," Lucius began, squeezing his eyes shut as if to shut away a thousand demons, "I am sorry to have brought this upon you. I'm… proud of you for trying to atone for my failure."

Draco hesitated. "You didn't—"

"Do not lie to me," Lucius hissed before looking at his son urgently. "Perhaps—perhaps after tonight, things may be as they were. Just you, your mother and I."

The way his father's voice shook broke Draco's heart. He wished for death then and there—how could Lucius, his beacon, his idol have become so hollow and defeated?

And how could he be so acrimonious as to let his own father become even more broken?

"Things will go back to normal," Draco murmured, steadfastly ignoring that he was actually trying to comfort his father. "I'll make sure of it, father."

Silent spells. Silent spells. Not that complicated, Kathleen. Get a grip. Focus!

She couldn't tell how long she'd been in the closet, but she figured at least an hour must have passed already. She couldn't hear anything—Draco probably cast a silencing charm over the room.

Finite Incantatum.

Nothing.

Kathleen scrunched her eyes closed and deliberately slowed her breathing. She'd seen Draco do silent spells thousands of times without appearing to exert himself too much.

Yes, but he was raised on magic and you got kicked down a year because you were so abysmal at it.

She gritted her teeth and thought of Bridget. Tonight was her chance. Maybe if she could corner one of them, she'd be able to get information…

Finite Incantatum!

Instantly, she felt her bindings lift away and her mouth became unobstructed. She let out a disbelieving cheer at her accomplishment. Kathleen sprung to her feet and shouted Alohamora, but no telling 'click' came from the door. She tugged at it, but it held fast. Apparently, Draco really hadn't wanted her to leave.

"REDUCTO!" She screamed, and the door blast out from in front of her. Without hesitation, Kathleen leapt out of the closet and began to run in the opposite direction of the other students. People were screaming and shouting for her to turn around, but she could hardly hear them over the sound of her own pulse.

It wasn't until she reached the Great Hall that she saw anything sinister.

Rubble littered the floors and the hall was lit up with streaks of purple, red and green spells; there were teachers dueling with unfamiliar intruders. One of the Death Eaters was wielding two wands seamlessly—

"NANN!" Kathleen roared, practically flying towards her grandmother and throwing disarming spells as fast as she could. She only had a couple of seconds before her grandmother turned and realized who her attacker was, and upon seeing Kathleen, she smiled wickedly.

In what almost looked like a vicious dance, Kathleen's grandmother began advancing towards her while swirling a wand in each hand. Kathleen quickly realized that she was overmatched, but what she lacked in skill, she made up for in speed, and she was able to block or dodge each of the curses that were hurled at her, despite the double speed from using two wands.

"Expelliarmus!" She cried, but it wasn't powerful enough and it only knocked away her grandmother's first wand. In the split-second that she had taken away from blocking, her grandmother had shouted a curse that she didn't recognize and sent it soaring above her head.

There was a deafening, thunderous crack and Kathleen could hear nothing but ringing—she tried to turn—great pieces of stone were raining down on her and suddenly she was pinned under a growing mountain of rock. Her grandmother was walking towards her slowly, a small smile on her lips, and something collided with her head—

Darkness.