A/N: Most of this first chapter is taken from chapter 27 (The Lightning Struck Tower) of HP and the HBP, only modified so it is read from Draco's point of view. A few parts are word for word, mainly the dialogue, but I tried to avoid that. Please don't sue me.  Each chapter will be read from a different character's point of view. This is my first fic, so give me some slack. Read on!

Chapter 1

The End of the Beginning

"Someone's dead," said Draco. He felt his throat tighten. "One of your people…I don't know who, it was dark…I stepped over the body….I was supposed to be waiting up here when you go back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way…."

"Yes, they do that," said Dumbledore.

Draco stood, frozen, his wand remained pointed straight at Dumbledore. Do it...come on...he urged himself. He had not given up his entire year to get this far just to give up…

But suddenly there came a bang and shouts from below, louder than ever, jerking Draco from his silent motivation; it sounded as though the Death Eaters had finally made it through to the spiral staircase. He strained his ears as the noises grew louder, desperate to focus on anything but his current situation.

"There is little time, one way or another," said Dumbledore. Draco was forced to refocus on him. "So let us discuss your options, Draco."

"My options!" Draco said loudly. "I'm standing here with a wand – I'm about to kill you --" His mind screamed in protest.

"My dear boy, let us have no more pretense about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."

He knew Dumbledore was right.

"I haven't got any options!" shouted Draco wildly, his voice cracking involuntarily. He felt as though he was being pressed in on from every side. He felt his face drain whatever color was left of it. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

"I appreciate the difficulty of your situation," said Dumbledore. Hot anger surfaced in Draco's chest. Dumbledore had no idea, he did not know how it was to live your life with a growing threat hovering over you; murder or be murdered. "Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realized that I suspected you."

Draco felt himself wince at the sound of the name.

"I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, is case he used Legilimancy against you," continued Dumbledore. "But now at least we can speak plainly to each other….No harm has been, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived….I can help you Draco."

"No you can't," said Draco, his voice sounding very weak. Just then he noticed that his wand hand was shaking very badly indeed. "Nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me. I've got no choice."

So why wasn't he doing it? Come on…you have to...you have to or you'll die, you'll bring death on your whole family...Draco tightened his grip on his wand, which was slippery with sweat from his shaking hand.

"He cannot kill you if you are already dead. Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you could possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Nobody would be surprised that you had died in your attempt to kill me – forgive me, but Lord Voldemort probably expects is. Nor would the Death Easters be surprised that we had captured and killed your mother – it is what they would do themselves, after all. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban...When the time comes, we can protect him, too. Come over to the right side, Draco...you are not a killer..."

Draco stared at Dumbledore, his head swimming, his mind racing with thoughts. Come over to the right side? Draco tried to imagine becoming a part of the Order of the Phoenix, only to find that he could not picture it. He could not picture running from the Dark Lord for the rest of his life. He gazed at the situation laid before him, the task he had been set to do.

"But I got this far, didn't I?" he said slowly. "They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here...and you're in my power...I'm the one with the wand...You're at my mercy..." His heart thundered in his chest. That's right; he's at your mercy...so do something...do something...

"No, Draco," said Dumbledore quietly. "It is my mercy, and not yours that matters now."

Draco felt his jaw drop, staring at that old face, the face he had known for so many years, the face that was supposed to have died at Draco's wand moments before. His wand hand was trembling worse than ever, he felt as though he muscles were going to give out at any moment –

But suddenly footsteps were thundering up the stairs, and a second later Draco was buffeted to the side as four people in black robes burst through the door onto the ramparts. He watched as they entered; each training his or her wand on Dumbledore. One Draco knew only by face, and the two siblings: Amycus and Alecto; but his insides gave a horrible lurch as he saw who else had joined the party. It was Fenrir Greyback, his long, unnaturally pointed teeth bared in a grotesque grin and Draco suddenly began to feel nauseous as one of the men Death Eaters began to speak in an excited tone.

"Dumbledore cornered! Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!"

Draco felt his stomach squirm with guilt and fear. He needed to do it, he needed to kill Dumbledore, and he needed to do it soon.

But did he?

His mind ran over Dumbledore's previous words, over and over again. We can hide you more completely than you could ever imagine...come over to the right side, Draco...you are not a killer...He felt the blood pounding in his head, as he tried to work out what to do. If he ran now, he would surely be killed and so would Dumbledore. No, there was no way. I haven't been given a choice, he thought. I've been given an ultimatum...I have to murder to save my family...to save myself...

Dumbledore's words brought him back to the present situation.

"Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual...You have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"

"That's right" said Fenrir Greyback. "Shocks you that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?"

"Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little," said Dumbledore. "And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live..."

Draco's stomach gave another uncomfortable twist as he found his voice again.

"I didn't," he breathed. He avoided Fenrir's gaze, out of fear that he might vomit everywhere if he looked up. "I didn't know he was going to come --"

"I wouldn't want to miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore," rasped Greyback. "Not when there are throats to be ripped out...Delicious, delicious...I could do you for afters, Dumbledore."

"No," said the fourth Death Eater sharply. He had a heavy, brutal-looking face. "We've got orders. Draco's got to do it. Now, Draco, and quickly."

To his surprise, Draco felt the grip on his wand loosen. He stared into Dumbledore's pale face, terror rising inside of him. It was now or never. It was now...or death. His throat and mouth felt as though they were coated with sand. He did not know if he would even be able to utter the curse if he wanted to. And he knew that if he even opened his mouth he would vomit before anything else could happen. The back of his throat burned.

"Always the same weren't yeh, Dumby, talking and doing nothing, nothing. I don't even know why the Dark Lord's bothering to kill yer! Come on Draco, do it!"

Noises sounded from behind them on the staircase.

"Now, Draco, quickly!"

Draco heard these voices reverberate distantly around him, as though they were coming from far away. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he felt as though he was about to collapse. It was all he could do to keep on his feet. His wand hand shook so badly that he could not even aim properly.

"Draco, do it or stand aside so one of us --" screeched Alecto, but at the precise moment, the door to the ramparts burst open once more. Draco turned his head and saw Snape, his wand clutched in his hand as his black eyes swept the scene. Draco felt Snape's eyes linger on him, penetrating straight into his mind. He knew that Snape could sense his fear, his indecisiveness.

"We've got a problem, Snape. The boy doesn't seem able --"

"Severus..."

Draco swiveled his head to look down at Dumbledore, who had slid so far down the rampart wall that he was almost on the ground. His face looked sallow and pale, his voice soft and hoarse as he spoke Snape's name again.

"Severus...please..."

Draco's head, it felt, was threatening to burst open. Every beat of his heart made the scene swim before his eyes. He was horrified. How had he gotten himself here? The feeling of triumph at successfully getting the Death Eaters into the castle and having Dumbledore at his mercy had long since left him. Now all he felt was terror rising inside of him. He looked around at Snape. There was revulsion and hatred etched in every harsh line of his face as he gazed down at Dumbledore. And then he realized. Dumbledore was going to die, whether he, Draco, killed him or not. He clutched his stomach as he realized what was going to happen next. Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Dumbledore was blasted into the air and for a split second he seemed to hand suspended beneath the shimmering Dark Mark, and then fell slowly backward, like a great rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight.

He was dead...Dumbledore was dead...Draco's head was spinning and he could not see straight...everything around him was in a haze, it seemed. Students stared at him as he sprinted past, down the corridors, leaping down staircases four steps at a time. Their stunned and scared voices came and went quickly as he dashed past.

Finally he reached the entrance hall, and there were the great oak front doors, still wide open in Snape's wake. Draco hurtled out of the doors, not stopping to look around him. He saw the entrance gates about sixty yards in front of him, beyond which he could Disapparate. He had to make it. He felt shouting behind him, and a curse grazed his cheek, missing him by inches. He heard Potter's voice ringing out behind him. Suddenly, Draco spun around and saw his black-haired counterpart aiming curses at Snape, each of which Snape fended off almost lazily.

"Stupefy!"

Draco watched as the jet of red light soared past Snape's head. Snape pulled out his wand, and before he turned to face Potter, shouted, "Run, Draco!"

For a split second Draco gazed, entranced at the scene before him. There were screams and yells coming from all sides, he could hear Hagrid roaring, his cottage up in flames. There was blood smeared on the distant flagstones up near the oak doors. Curses were flying in every direction. It was then that he turned and sprinted the remaining 20 yards between himself and the iron gates.

As soon as he passed them, he promptly keeled over, his knees smashing hard into the ground, and vomited onto the cobbled street, shaking uncontrollably. His lank, blond hair hung in front of his eyes. He knew he had to Disapparate now, he was going to be caught if he didn't get away immediately, but he couldn't even bring himself to his feet. He heard distant echoes of violent yells from Snape coming from the grounds.

Draco did not know how long his remained on his knees, taking deep breaths and staring down at the street, willing himself not to vomit again. It might have been a few short minutes, or it might have been hours, he did not know. His brain, it seemed, was not cooperating with him.

But suddenly he felt a hand grab him roughly by the collar of his robes and pull him forcefully upward. Immediately he felt the familiar sensation of Disapparation pressing in all around him, darkness enveloping him completely.

Seconds later, however, he felt his feet connect, hard, with the ground again. His knees buckled under him, but the hand had maintained its firm hold on his robes, and he was guided slowly over to a familiar red armchair and eased gently into it. He used what strength was left in him to open his eyes halfway and gaze blearily around him.

He was back in his own comfortable sitting room. Various squashy looking armchairs were placed in the room, along with a sofa of the same nature, and several bookcases. A fire was crackling merrily in the grate next to him; he could feel the heat from the flames.

"Oh, thank God!" came a voice from the kitchen. "Severus, is he alright! What happened? Thank God you're both alive!"

"It's alright, Narcissa...Calm yourself. Draco is fine; it just seems he's a bit shaken."

Draco saw his mother swoop down upon him, tears glistening in her pale eyes and she threw her arms around him and began to sob into his shoulder. He felt her tears seep through his robes and his sweater. He did not have the strength to return her embrace, or tell her he was alright.

He then saw her face again as she relinquished her hold on him, putting her hands on his cheeks, and looking into his eyes.

"Are you okay, baby? Please speak to me Draco, please, are you alright?" Her tone was desperate and high-pitched, and Draco could feel her hands trembling on his face. He tried to swallow, he wanted to tell her he was going to be okay, but he could do neither. All he could do was open and close his mouth feebly, feeling that uncomfortable burning at the back of his throat again. Suddenly, he leaned over and vomited a second time over the side of the armchair onto the hardwood floor. He heard his mother shriek loudly and begin to cry again.

"He's sick! He's sick, Severus – Draco, Draco talk to me!"

"Give the boy some air, Narcissa...he will be fine. As I said, he's just shaken up."

Draco closed his eyes and let himself sink all the way back into the armchair. He was feeling slightly better now that he had emptied all the contents of his stomach, but his head was still pounding horribly with each beat of his heart. He could not have moved a muscle to save his life. He heard Snape conversing with his mother a few feet from where he sat. His mother's voice was a shaky, worried simper; Snape's was masked with false confidence and a soothing tone. But Draco could hear the disquiet in Snape's voice.

"What happened Severus? Did everything go as planned?"

"Not quite..." Snape paused for a moment, apparently to collect his thoughts. "Draco did not succeed in murdering Dumbledore...I was forced to complete the task for him."

Draco heard his mother moan feebly.

"But...what will the Dark Lord do now? Is going to murder us, Severus? Is he going to kill my baby boy?" Her voice was shaking.

"I do not know, Narcissa. I do not know what the Dark Lord's plans are, but I advise you to take Draco and get yourselves away from this place. Make sure you escape to somewhere he cannot find you. I will cover for you. I will find out what his plans are, whether he is willing to spare your lives." Snape took a deep, steadying breath and continued. "If he is, I will contact you; tell you it is safe to return. If he is not...then I will not make contact with you, I cannot risk it."

There was a long silence. Draco did not open his eyes, but tried to let Snape's words sink into his brain. But he could not comprehend fully the impact of this plan; his mind did not seem to be capable. It seemed the words went into one ear and out of the other. The pain in his head was worsening.

"Come now, Draco..." Snape's voice was much nearer now. "Come...you must get up...you must go with your mother, you both need to leave here."

Draco did not understand fully, his mind was so clouded; all his could do was shake his head so feebly, he did not even know whether Snape saw it or not.

"Please, Severus, can't he rest first? Look at the state of him –"

"Listen, Narcissa, I must leave very soon, the Dark Lord is expecting me..." He paused briefly. "But if you value Draco's life, I suggest you take him away from here. Now."

There was another silence. Draco felt two hands under his arms, lifting him up onto his feet. He felt his legs trembling precariously under his weight and opened his eyes. Snape was standing beside him, looking concerned. He could only see the back of his mother; she was hurriedly shoving things into a large knapsack. She was the last thing he saw before heavy darkness pressed in upon him. He felt his legs give out underneath him as the consciousness was wiped from his body.

A/N: I hope you liked it! Read and review: the good, the bad, and the ugly.