Written for Round 3 of the QLFC. I'm the captain of the Wimbourne Wasps. Round prompt was, "Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley: Write about an action or event that has major consequences."

"Severus!" Filius's voice echoed in the stairway. "SEVERUS! Death Eaters are here! In the castle!"

He put down his quill, frowning at the other professor's words. He'd known the time for Draco's final attempt would come soon, but he'd heard no mention of any plans to bring any of the other Death Eaters to Hogwarts and that concerned him. Especially tonight, with Dumbledore gone.

"Severus!" There was a thud as Filius threw the office door open and stepped in, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath. "You must come and help us, Severus! We cannot stand against them on our own; we need your help."

He felt his blood run cold at the words, but he stood quickly and grabbed his wand from the desk, appearing as though he would do just as Filius was asking. But he couldn't, not tonight. Silently, he pointed his wand and cast stupefy. Filius fell to the ground quickly, much too soon to see the apology on Severus's face.

When he rounded the corner to leave the dungeons seconds later, he was surprised to see two students standing there; he hadn't heard them come down. Granger and Lovegood meant Potter had Dumbledore's Army stationed at places around the school, and if there truly were Death Eaters roaming around…. He cursed under his breath.

"Miss Granger, Miss Lovegood. Professor Flitwick has suffered an unfortunate collapse; I suggest the two of you go and take care of him, as I am needed upstairs." They both nodded and moved to enter his office and he began his ascent as well, robes billowing as he hurried.

The shouts in the corridor were loud and confused and the jets of lights from wands were disorienting. He saw people down on the floor and assumed they were members of the Order— or Dumbledore's Army— but with no time to check, he pushed any concern for them down. He wanted to turn and fire at the Death Eaters, to push them back, but to do so would be irresponsible.

Strong as they were, none of his feelings about the battle going on before him compared to the sinking dread in his stomach every time he looked at a colleague and saw the brief relief in their faces at the sight of him. They trusted him— those in the Order especially— and after tonight, that trust would be broken and gone.

They would never believe another word he said.

He stepped up to the staircase to the Astronomy Tower thinking of his betrayal to them, barely registering as he passed through the barrier somebody had thrown up. Behind him he could hear people still yelling and fighting to take down the barrier, eager to get through. He was glad they couldn't.

As he burst through the doors to the rampart, he tightened his grip on his wand, ready for whatever he might be encountering. He swept his eyes over the scene before him quickly; Amycus stood pointing his own wand at Dumbledore, who was slumping against the wall, his feet barely holding him up. Alecto and Fenrir looked as though they were barely restraining themselves, and Draco was paler than he'd ever seen him.

"Severus..." Dumbledore's voice was softer than he'd ever heard it before, so quiet and weak it was a wonder he could understand him at all.

The headmaster didn't say anything else; he didn't need to. The pleading tone in that whisper was enough. Severus moved forward swiftly, put a hand between Draco's shoulder blades and shoved him out of the way. The boy stumbled but Severus didn't look over, not trusting himself to keep going if he broke eye contact with Dumbledore.

He wanted to tell him again how much he didn't want to do this, how it was going to weigh on him. He wanted to tell Dumbledore how much he hated him for this, even though he understood. But there was no time for that, no way to fit it in with the audience they had around them. So instead he raised his right arm, pointed his wand at the man he'd done so much for, and put as much hatred behind the words as he possibly could.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The blast of green light hit Dumbledore directly in the chest, throwing him up and backward. He was suspended in the air beneath the Dark Mark for a moment, his body arched unnaturally, an image Severus knew would never leave him.

His stomach churned as Dumbledore dropped from sight, bile rising and stinging the back of his throat. He fought it down, looking over to where Draco stood instead. He had to get the boy out of here.

"Out, quickly," he ordered, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and pushing him toward the doorway. The hardness in his voice left no room for argument and Draco went willingly, feet pounding the stairs as quickly as possible. From behind him, Amycus shouted something and half the ceiling ahead of them crumbled, dismantling the barrier and distracting the Order. Draco hesitated and Severus gave him another push, leaned forward to growl in his ear. "I promised your mother I'd help you out of this. Do as I say, and move."

He loathed every step they took toward the gates of the grounds, towards their new life— whatever that may be from this point on. This war had been bearable until this point, bearable because there had been one person who knew the truth of what he was doing. What hope did he have now?

Narcissa.

He allowed himself a moment to think of her as he turned to face Potter, to think of the relief she was able to have at knowing what her son had been saved from. It helped, but not enough, and before he could think of her any more than that, Potter started attempting to use the Cruciatus Curse on him.

The thought was so ridiculous he wanted to laugh.

The boy wanted to, no doubt, but despite how much hatred he had towards his professor, he didn't have it in him. And, despite himself, Severus almost wished he did.