Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Written for QL Reserve League, S1, R9, Keeper - What if Draco Malfoy had been the one to kill Albus Dumbledore at the end of HBP?

Word Count - 1285

Warning - Suicide.

Murderer

There was blood on his hands.

Draco saw the flash of red whenever he caught sight of his palms through his peripheral vision.

He'd never wanted to be a murderer.

Nobody looked at him the same way.

The Dark Lord had patted him on the head, a reward for good behaviour, as though he was a common mutt. His Aunt Bellatrix was ebullient with pride, her cackle grating his ears even days after the fact.

Severus was the worst.

Draco saw him looking at him occasionally, a mixture of emotions swirling in his eyes. There was concern and fear, and occasionally Draco was sure he saw a flash of sorrow.

Draco tried to tell himself that Severus was merely angry that Draco had stolen his thunder, but in his heart, he knew that wasn't right. Severus had never wanted him to be a Death Eater in the first place.

He'd never wanted Draco to be a murderer.

The only good thing to come of Draco sending Dumbledore over the ledge of the Astronomy tower was that his parents had been saved. Indeed, the Dark Lord was so pleased with Draco, that he'd actually left his parents alone.

His father hadn't been tortured in days.

If only Draco could say the same.

Safe as he currently was from the Dark Lord's wand, his night terrors were another story entirely.

Draco couldn't close his eyes without seeing Dumbledore, his decaying corpse asking Draco why he'd murdered him.

What had Dumbledore ever done to him?

It didn't matter how much Draco screamed that he'd had no choice, he'd had to save his parents, the corpse always advanced on him until it was on top of him, until it was forcing the air from his lungs until he couldn't breathe.

Everytime, he woke, panting for breath, his cheeks wet with tears he didn't remember shedding.

He'd never wanted to be a murderer.

"I can't go back there," Draco said, aghast. "Are you mad?!"

Severus sighed, a hand rubbing over his face. "You will," he replied eventually. "Because Hogwarts is safer for you than being here. Do you think, if he is to see you all the time, that the Dark Lord will forget about you?"

Draco paled and swallowed hard.

"I… What if he's there?"

Severus blinked. "Who?"

Draco glared at him until he realised.

"Albus would not come back as a ghost, Draco. He… he believed that death was but the next great adventure."

Draco tried to ignore the fondness he heard in his Professor's voice. "You're sure."

"I'm sure."

That look was back in Severus' eyes and Draco looked away. He could pretend things were fine if only he didn't meet the sorrow filled eyes.

He'd never wanted Draco to be a murderer.

Being at Hogwarts was even worse than Draco had expected it to be. He couldn't handle looking up at the high table, couldn't listen to the whispers of his peers. How did they know?

Who had told them that it had been Draco to take the life of their beloved Headmaster.

Even worse though, were the subtle pats on the back from the other Slytherins, the murmurs of a job well done.

It wasn't a job well done at all—it was a job that never should have been his in the first place. It was a job that shouldn't have belonged to anyone.

Severus stood in Dumbledore's place, but Draco couldn't look up at him as he made his start of term speech.

He didn't belong here anymore.

He'd never wanted to be a murderer.

The Christmas break was fast approaching, and Severus was the one to deliver the note from his mother, requesting he remain at the castle for the break.

Draco knew she was trying to keep him safe, but it sent a shot of fear through him all the same. What was she hiding? Had something happened?

"Is she okay?" he asked, looking up at Severus, praying for the man to give him something to put his mind at ease.

"She is as okay as any of us can hope for," Severus said after a momentary pause. "She has not suffered anything since the last time you saw her apart from worry."

Draco nodded silently. "I really can't go home?"

"It is best if you don't," Severus confirmed. "The Dark Lord has other things on his mind for the moment, but it would be best if we didn't put you back in his line of sight, as it were."

"Why do you care so much?" Draco demanded, his anger coming from nowhere.

"You are my godson," Severus replied quietly. "The closest I will ever have to a son. And… Draco, no matter what else happens in your life, you will always be haunted by what you were forced to do. It should… it should never have been you."

"It had to be," Draco replied softly. "I had to save her life."

Severus sighed. "It should have been me."

He'd never wanted Draco to be a murderer.

Draco couldn't bring himself to be the cause of more death.

He stared into the familiar eyes of Potter, and he lied, because he didn't have the stomach to claim the responsibility of another life.

The Dark Lord hadn't been pleased.

Draco had never known such anger in a single person before, and they'd all faced his rage.

When Draco returned to school following the break, his hands still trembled from the force of the Cruciatus curse he'd been forced to endure.

He couldn't bring himself to regret it though.

He'd never wanted to be a murderer.

"You should run," Severus said quietly. He was sitting on the desk in his old office, the one he'd had when he'd been their potions professor. "The war… it's coming here, Draco, we all know it. I don't wish for you to be caught up in the crossfire."

"I can't," Draco replied softly. "Not while… I won't abandon my family."

Severus sighed but nodded. "Very well. I ask that you escape if you can. If you see an opening to grab your mother… run, Draco."

"You shouldn't be telling me this," Draco whispered. "The Dark Lord—"

"I doubt I will live to see the end of the school year, Draco. I have a… a feeling, shall we say. And if I'm to die, I want to do so with the knowledge that you have a chance at life."

Draco chuckled bitterly, unable to help himself. "I'm fucked either way, Severus. If the Dark Lord is triumphant, he will forever hold the life of my mother in his hands. If he doesn't win… I don't imagine a cell in Azkaban will be the comfort that you're talking about."

Severus looked pained as he nodded his agreement. "I'm sorry, Draco. I failed you."

He'd never wanted Draco to be a murderer.

It was over.

Against all odds, Potter had won.

Draco's parents were still alive, and well, and sitting in the Great Hall. Draco knew that once the Ministry pulled itself together, that freedom wouldn't be allowed to continue. For any of them.

He'd slipped away with a murmur of needing to use the bathroom, escaping the worried eyes of his mother with a gentle squeeze to her shoulders.

Standing at the top of the Astronomy tower again was difficult, but Draco's hands didn't shake. He moved to the edge, to the place where Dumbledore had stood, and he felt the wind whipping around him.

He let it blow away the guilt.

After all, hadn't Severus told him that Dumbledore believed death to be the next great adventure?

He stepped off the tower.

He'd never wanted to be a murderer.