Let Slip the Dogs of War
by Balizabeth
"With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial."
-William Shakespeare,
The Tragedy of Julius Caesar
Act III, scene i
Idiot. Goddamn idiot. Draco berated himself as he crept silently down the hall. What the hell was he doing? Did he want to die? Was that it? He must have a death wish if he was deliberately disobeying his father's orders, and going straight to… Ah. Here it was. Only once had Draco ever been in the Headmaster's office. It was last year…after that fool Diggory had died. Draco thought back to that meeting, hoping that the offer made still stood. The image swirled in his mind, the one thing that kept him holding on, in case all else went against him and his father threw him out…or worse. As he stared at the statue of the gargoyle, his mind went back to that night, every detail sharp with clarity in his memory.
He was sitting in front of his desk, staring defiantly at those eyes…those knowing eyes. It was the eyes that he remembered the most. How they spoke volumes and could penetrate anything. It was the eyes that Draco stared at as Dumbledore said,
"I am sure that you have heard of Mr. Diggory's death by now, Mr. Malfoy." Indeed, Draco had heard about Diggory's death, as well as all the details of that night, from a primary source. His father. But the old fool of a Headmaster needn't know that, no matter how much he suspected.
"I have heard…rumors of it, sir." There. That was a safe reply. But why did he feel like it was useless to hide the truth of his father? Underneath those eyes, he could hide nothing. Dumbledore only raised an eyebrow. There was no hint of humor in his face, no warmth in his voice.
"Indeed. I suspected you might have heard these…rumors. And, while Mr. Diggory's death is a great tragedy, it was not what I called you here to talk about." Draco tried to hide his surprise underneath a cool face. A Malfoy never shows his emotions. What the devil was the old man playing at? The Headmaster stared at Draco for a moment before continuing. Every word was enunciated, as though they were chosen with great care.
"The world is changing, Mr. Malfoy. Surely you know this. We are on the brink of a great war- and many are bent on destruction of life. Now is a time for choices. These next few months you will have to make some of the hardest choices of your life, and you will have to live with them. You alone are responsible for the decisions that you make, Draco. Not your peers, not your father-"
At the mention of his father, Draco felt panic swell up in him. Why did he mention him? Obviously the old man was referring to the Dark Lord, but didn't he understand the power Lucius had over all that were near him? How could the man dare to bring up his father… Hastily, he spoke up,
"My father is-"
"Your father is of no concern to me, Mr. Malfoy. I speak to you now, not Lucius. You, Draco, and only you are in charge of your life. No excuse can hide that. You need to do what you believe is right, and forget your father. There are those that can protect you, Draco. There is never only once choice. When the time comes for you to make a decision, Draco, I ask that you think of this conversation. As long as you are a student here, you will be granted protection. However, I am not able to protect people from their ill decisions. That is a shield only you can provide for yourself. Draco, I ask you to simply make the right decision. Do you hear me?
But Draco didn't hear him. At least, part of him didn't. Some part of himself told him that Dumbledore was speaking, and he heard those words, but they were far off and seemed to echo somehow. During this speech, he had jumped up as if to leave the office. He had pushed himself up using the edge of Dumbledore's desk, and that was when It had happened.
He was rushed to a place- he didn't know where he was, yet he knew he wasn't truly there. How strange- to have a part of your mind tell you that you are somewhere, yet at the same time be told that you truly weren't.
The scene in front of him was chaos. It was a great battle, and while he noticed this, the same part of his mind that told him he wasn't really there informed him that it wasn't just a battle- it was the battle. He was witnessing the battle of Light and Dark- and Dark was winning.
Again, again, there was that voice- it told him that this was not a battle of ancient times. It was the future- some where along the timeline, this battle would be happening.
Draco tried to shut himself out of this scene, tried to disengage his mind from whatever was happening to him, but he couldn't. He was trapped. Abruptly, the scene changed, and the battle was gone. He was aware that this was another notch in the time line, still in the future. He was still on the battlefield, but there was no one living save for four people: Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and…himself.
As the vision became sharper in his mind, Draco realized that hen was mistaken. There were not four living people on the battlefield. There were three. The Dark Lord stood there, and Ron was there, too. Weasley was on his knees, sobbing, as he looked at the form lying dead and bloody on the ground. Suddenly filled with inexplicable dread, Draco studied the body. It was Potter. He was facedown, but there was no mistaking that black on black hair. In his back was a knife wound that slowly leaked blood onto the muddy ground. And next to him was the one who killed him. Potter's murderer. As Draco realized who it was, he felt as though he might faint.
Standing over Potter's body, dressed all in black and with Voldemort's hand on his shoulder was Draco Malfoy.
It was Draco Malfoy who held the knife that was covered in blood.
It was Draco Malfoy that had murdered Harry Potter.
It was himself.
The future-Draco raised his face up to the bystander-Draco, and the observer felt a shock run through his body. It was almost as if the other one could see him. Even more of a shock was the expression on the killer-Draco's face. It was one of such physical and emotional anguish that it was painful to see. The future-Draco continued to stare at him, then whispered,
"This should not have happened. I didn't want my terrible purpose."
Finally, the death-vision released him, and with a snap Draco was pushed back into the present time. He found that he was still clutching Dumbledore's desk so hard that his knuckles were white. His teeth were clenched and his breath was coming out in rapid hisses. He became aware that the Headmaster was speaking to him, saying in a concerned voice,
"Mr. Malfoy…Mr., Malfoy. Draco, can you hear me? What is wrong?" With an effort, Draco pulled his eyes up to the Headmaster's face. For some reason he didn't want to tell the old man what had happened…maybe it was because it scared him so much. His mind raced for an excuse, and he said,
"I…I'm sorry, sir. Just a pain in my leg. It's gone now, though. Must have been a cramp." He cursed himself mentally for such a weak reply, and he could tell from the look he was getting that the Headmaster didn't believe it either. As a matter of fact, it seemed that the man knew a great deal more than he was letting on.
Trying to summon up some of the Malfoy dignity, Draco twisted his face into a sneer, saying,
"I must be getting back to my Common Room now, sir. I will…consider the things you have told me." He knew there was no malice or power in that sneer or those words, as did the Headmaster. It was a façade and they both knew it. But Draco was already lost, thinking about what the hell had happened to him. He turned around and left the office. It took all his might not to break into a run.
All the way out, he felt those eyes upon his back.
Throughout the summer, that incident had taken a very prominent role in Draco's mind. He had obsessed over his Terrible Purpose (as he had taken to calling it, as he had called the implacable part of his mind that was telling him things during the vision his "truth sense") and was still no closer to understanding it. Even now, the memory of it scared him.
So it was that that was running through Draco's mind as he stared at the stone gargoyle. He hoped to God Dumbledore's offer still held- he would do anything now to avoid his Terrible Purpose, and that involved not responding to the Dark Lord's call.
Suddenly, the gargoyle began to move. Startled, Draco moved back a pace. He saw Albus Dumbledore standing there, an odd expression on his face. It was a mixture of despair, grimness…and a bit of hope. The old man inclined his head slightly and said,
"Mr. Malfoy. I was expecting you. If you would follow me, please." So Draco followed, wondering if there was anything that the Headmaster didn't expect, and if there was, what the hell could it be?
Draco had thought that seeing a Deatheater's son wearing hospital robes and looking as pale as a ghost standing in front of the secret entrance to the Headmaster's office in the middle of the night would constitute as unexpected, but apparently he was wrong.
As they entered the office, and sat down in their respective chairs, Draco found himself, for the first time, at a loss for words. I mean, honestly, what could he say? "So sorry to interrupt you sir, but the Dark Lord has called me and I had this vision of me killing Harry Potter last year that I lied to you about and I wanted to see if you could grant me a safe haven away from the Dark forces?" Somehow, this seemed unlikely.
Thankfully, it was Dumbledore who spoke up. "I will not waste words, Mr. Malfoy. I know why you are here, and what you want to ask. The answer is, as it always was, yes."
Draco stared at Dumbledore, his mouth opening and closing. He was aware that he was doing a remarkable impression of a fish. Finally, he found his voice.
"You- you know why I am here, sir?" Dumbledore nodded, and at trace of a smile showed itself on his face for the first time.
"Yes, I did Mr. Malfoy. What kind of Headmaster would I be if I didn't know the things that occurred at my own school?" Draco knew that he wouldn't be getting any other kind of answer out of him. He realized that since the Headmaster was doing this for him, he should at least tell the man about his vision last year. He swallowed a few times, the finally spoke up.
"Last year, sir, when I was in your office…something…. something happened to me. I don't know what it was, but I saw- I saw-" What could he say now? Would he be thrown out if he told the man what he had seen himself do? Once again, he was spared.
"I know that you had a vision last year, Mr. Malfoy. If I am correct, it was a prescient vision- a vision of the future. I will not ask you what you saw, because for now that is not important. There is something I need to tell you, Draco. Something extremely important. Now that you will be here indefinitely, it is time I told you." Draco repressed the urge to jump up and shake the man, to scream 'what is it? What have you been hiding from me?' Before he could, Dumbledore said the words that Draco would always remember.
"Mr. Malfoy, the reason you have been called by Voldemort at such a young age is that you are an extremely powerful wizard. You are a thing beyond all things to the Dark Lord. You are an Istari."
'Well', thought Draco, 'that is certainly interesting.'
*
All right!!!! Now THAT, my friends, is what I call a chapter. I got what I wanted to in, with a tad bit of action, however poorly written. I considered putting Harry in this chapter, but then it might have been too long, because his first meeting with Dumbledore is going to be quite involved.
Now, I know there are some things that I borrowed- if there are any Dune fans out there, you know what I am talking about. I am sorry, but they just fit so well! *Balizabeth cowers and whimpers*.
I hope this was mildly interesting, and for God's sake, if it was or wasn't tell me in a review!!!! I only got TWO for my last chapter, and that is a bit depressing. Please, tell me what you did or didn't like- because if you don't how will I keep on/stop doing it? I am begging you…
T.H- what happened to you, muse? Have you disappeared off the face of the earth? I got this chapter out quick just for you and you are nowhere to be found! I hope you liked the all the Draco - I am really starting to like writing him. He rather reminds me of myself. In a strictly non-Slytherin way. Not that there is anything bad with Slytherin…oh, I will just stop. I would have sent you this to preview, but I need to post before I leave the state for a while, so I just couldn't wait! I'm so sorry! Much more of the trio next chapter….whenever that will be. You are so great, my dear. You may not believe it, but you really keep me going on the fic!
Storyspindler- I am so glad you can empathize with my problems with writing. The process may kill me yet, but I can't stop- I am addicted! Thank you for reviewing- I hope this chapter came out soon enough!
As for the rest of you, just click that little button on the left and make a poor little New Englander buried up to her waist in snow happy!
Cheers,
Balizabeth
*who is still glowing after seeing Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers for the fourth time in two weeks!*