Chapter 9: Dumbledore's Offer
Draco
Maybe it's all the hours spent alone in the Room of Requirement, but Draco is beginning to think that his own mind is something like that room. It's filled with odds and ends, things kept hidden, objects tucked away.
He's always been good at compartmentalization. He can lock up an unpleasant idea, a disturbing thought, a secret wish. He can keep everything in its place.
But there is a point, a breaking point, when it becomes too much. When the room becomes too cluttered. When the things tucked away, the unpleasant things, begin to topple over and scatter before Draco can clean them up, organize them back into place.
There is Father in Azkaban.
There is the Dark Lord threatening his life and his family.
There is the Malfoy name, fallen to disfavour.
There is Pansy hovering over him, Grabbe and Goyle, Zabini and Nott, asking questions about what he's up to, wanting details about all the innuendos he's been dropping since the start of term.
There is Snape trailing his every move.
There is his task. The killing curse. The Headmaster.
There is Ginny Weasley.
He closes his eyes and the image of her spills into the forefront of his mind: the way she looked in the moonlight of the hospital ward. Her fingers warm against the chill of his skin. Her body hot against his beneath the covers. Their legs entangled. Her breath a steady puff against his face.
There is Potter. Always Potter, always in the way. Always the victor.
Draco opens his eyes. He takes a shaky breath, and pushes the thoughts down, down, back into the nooks and hidden crannies of his brain. He pushes down the fear, the shame, the hurt and the envy.
He looks at his reflection in the mirror in the prefect's bathroom and adjusts his tie.
Now he's the victor. None of them know what's coming.
As soon as Draco sent word to Mother that he found a way into Hogwarts, his aunt Bellatrix took over. He'd managed to keep his plans secret for months, to keep Snape out of his head, to keep control.
But that's all quickly unraveling.
At first, his aunt wouldn't take him seriously. He had to meet her and Mother at Borgin and Burke's one morning to prove that he'd really found a way into the castle.
When he stepped through the cabinet into the shop, Bellatrix went wild. She shrieked like a harpy, grabbed his shoulders and put her face right up to his. She told him, "Well done, Draco! The Dark Lord will be so pleased." Her breath smelled like decay.
Mother looked sick with worry. She hugged him for a full five minutes, standing in the middle of the dusty shop with arms locked around his torso. Draco would have pushed her away if he hadn't felt so exhausted, and frankly, a little in need of a hug.
Aunt Bellatrix took charge after that.
She tells him that she will get everything organized on the outside. Draco's only remaining job is to send word the next time Dumbledore leaves the castle. (And to kill the Headmaster of course.)
And after that … Well, he isn't sure. He isn't privy to that information, even though he orchestrated the entire thing. He supposes that he'll need to run from Hogwarts, that Bellatrix will help him to escape after it's all finished.
Draco sits on the leather sofa in the common room, turning the enchanted Galleon over in his hands. Rosmerta has the other one, to let him know the moment Dumbledore Apparates out of Hogsmeade. Draco has been maintaining the Imperius curse over the barmaid since Christmas.
Pansy finds him on the sofa. It's early afternoon and nobody else is in the common room; his housemates have all gone to class. He's supposed to be in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he didn't feel like going. What is Snape going to do about it, anyway? Give him detention? Make him write lines? Not likely.
Pansy should be somewhere as well, but she just stands there and stares at him, chewing on her bottom lip. Draco isn't spending his nights in the Room of Requirement anymore, but he hasn't quite shaken the insomnia. He probably looks like hell.
She kneels beside him, her dark eyes boring into his. "What is it Draco? You look unwell. I'm worried about you."
Ginny Weasley wouldn't fret over him like this. She would shake him to his senses, maybe threaten him with a good hex if he didn't snap out of his funk. But Ginny doesn't want to give him the time of day. She'd rather snog Potter all over the school.
He takes Pansy's hands. She's been kind to him these past months. She understands him and his family, his values. He tilts her chin with one hand, and he bends down to kiss her. Pansy's lips are wet, sliding against his, and they open eagerly. She climbs onto the leather sofa next to him, gripping his head, pulling him into her, breathing heavily. Draco closes his eyes. He tries to feel something, but he just feels tired.
He pushes her away. "I've got to go, Pansy," he says. He tries to say it apologetically, but his voice sounds hollow even to his own ears.
He's still at Hogwarts, but on some level it's like he's already gone, hiding away at the Manor with the Dark Lord and his mad aunt.
The antique cabinet opens, and Bellatrix Lestrange steps into the Room of Requirement. She grins at Draco. "Are you ready, nephew?" she whispers, "This is your great moment."
His throat is dry, so he nods.
The door opens again, and behind Bellatrix come the Carrow siblings, squat and trollish, then Yaxley and Rowle. Gibbon follows. He knows them all from the Manor, and some of them from earlier still, from his childhood. Yaxley is a good friend of Father's.
They crowd into the already crowded room, eyeing him roughly, their wands out. Draco didn't expect so many of them to show up tonight.
The cabinet door opens again, and Fenrir Greyback steps out of it.
Draco takes a step back, hitting the pile of clutter behind him. The werewolf radiates the stench of blood and rubbish. Draco's heart is beating hard. It hits him suddenly that there will be violence beyond his role with Dumbledore. Others could be hurt, could be killed. The werewolf looks hungry.
What have I done? he thinks. But it's too late now for second guessing. He's made his choice. Maybe he should have listened to Ginny, talked to the Headmaster, or maybe it wouldn't have made any difference.
Draco grips his wand and tries to still his pounding heart. He catches Yaxley's eye, and an ugly leer spreads across the big Death Eater's face. "Let's go kill some Mudbloods," he hisses. And he means it.
Ginny
Ginny feels the Felix potion coursing through her. There's tension in the air, like something tangible, but she feels up for the fight. Her wand is out. Beside her, Ron and Neville are ready, their eyes shining. Ron is holding the Marauder's map, and they know Draco is in the Room. They all know it, even without the map, because standing here feels like the right place to be.
Ginny wonders if he's alone. She wants to get to him first, to talk him down. She thinks she can do it. She feels his uncertainly, like he needs her now more than he's ever needed anyone. His need burns in her blood, pulses through her together with the potion. If she could just take his hand, pull him towards her and away from whatever he's gotten himself into.
She stands a little apart from her brother, a little ahead of Neville, and her eyes never leave the bare stretch of stone.
The Room of Requirement opens, but it isn't Draco who steps out. Bellatrix Lestrange looks around, appraising the seventh floor hallway, a hateful smear of a grin cut across her face. There are others behind her, far more Death Eaters than Ginny could have imagined entering the castle. Then Draco.
His grey eyes meet hers. His face is white. He mouths something at her. Run.
Then everything goes dark.
She's never been in such impenetrable blackness. It must be Fred and George's Peruvian Darkness Powder. Ginny feels around and grips Neville's shoulder. "We've got to follow them!" she cries.
They bumble around, holding on to each other and to the walls. The darkness begins to dissipate into greys, and as luck would have it, she catches sight of a Death Eater's boot right before it vanishes around a corner.
"They've gone up the staircase!" shouts Ron. He's seen it too. They hurry after them, racing up two stairs at a time. Sweat builds beneath her palm, and she grips her wand tighter, her lungs beginning to burn as they climb higher and higher.
"The Astronomy Tower," says Neville, panting.
She pushes past him, her eyes narrowed. She's missed her chance with Draco. Now, she only wants to fight.
Draco
The wind whips up
You are no assassin," says the Headmaster.
"How do you know what I am?" Draco shouts. But his voice shakes. Draco curses his nerves. He tries again: "I'm not afraid of you, old man. It is you that should be afraid!" Oh Merlin, his words sound childish even to his own ears. His hand is shaking so badly he can barely hold on to his wand.
The Dark Mark hovers in the sky above the Astronomy Tower like a terrifying portent.
Dumbledore's eyes are kind, in spite of everything. He leans heavily against the wall. "I don't think you will kill me, Draco," he says softly. "Killing is not as easy as the innocent believe." He readjusts his position, wincing in pain. Draco can hear the commotion outside increase, and he feels sweat on his brow, stinging his eyes. He swats it away with one hand.
He swallows hard against the bile rising in his throat. He'd stepped over a body on the way here. Who's was it?
"Why don't you tell me, Draco, how you managed to smuggle Death Eaters into the castle." The Headmaster speaks conversationally, as if they are making small talk at a garden party.
He is probably trying to distract him, just vying for more time, but Draco can't help telling him the details. "I did it right under your nose," he says, and pride slips into his words. "I fixed the Vanishing Cabinet, the one Montague got stuck in last year." Once he begins talking, he doesn't stop. He tells Dumbledore everything, even about the Imperius curse and the enchanted Galleons. It calms Draco down, gives him something else to focus on other than the glaring fact that he has the Headmaster at wandpoint, yet they both know that he is too weak to kill him.
Ginny was right. Dumbledore knew all along. He may have been hazy on the details, but Dumbledore knew that for all these months Draco had been plotting his demise.
Yet what does it matter? The old man will die tonight either way. And Draco will have to do it. He can wait for the others to fight their way back up to the tower, but he needs to be the one. Avada Kadavra. He just needs to say it.
"There is little time, Draco," Dumbledore whispers, distracting his thoughts. The clamour on the other side of the door has gotten so loud that the other Death Eaters seem steps away from the tower. "Let us discuss your options."
"My options!" Draco sounds desperate and he knows it. He abandons the pretense of bravado that has long slipped away. He can feel his panic bubbling out of him. "I haven't got any options, do I? I've got to do to this, or he'll kill me. He'll kill my whole family." Saying it out loud in front of Dumbledore terrifies him. Draco can feel himself shaking.
"Come over to the right side, Draco," says the Headmaster. His voice is never above a ragged whisper, but it feels booming in his ears. "We can hide you more completely than you can imagine. We can protect your family, Draco. Come over to our side."
"But I've gotten this far, haven't I?" he whispers. "They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here…and I've got you at my mercy."
"No, Draco. It is my mercy, and not yours, which matters now."
He stares at Dumbledore. The life seems to be seeping out of the old man of its own accord. He hears footsteps pounding below. It's too late; they're too close, and soon they will overwhelm the Astronomy Tower and force Draco to finish the job.
Draco shuts his eyes a moment, the wind whipping his hair, roaring in his ears. Ginny was right. He's a shit Death Eater. He wants to be on her side. He wants to be fighting with her, not against her.
Most of all, he doesn't want to hurt anyone. He doesn't want to live in this perpetual fear and violence.
His wand arm drops leaden to his side. "All right," he whispers.
"Good Draco. Good." Dumbledore's smile is genuine despite his evident pain. "You must bring me Professor Snape. Can you do that Draco?"
He stares disbelievingly at the Headmaster. "Snape's not on your side, you fool!" There is a bang and loud tussle just outside the door. Both Draco and Dumbledore watch it wobble on its hinges.
"Never mind, Draco. They are coming now, it is too late. Listen to me. Do not follow them out of the castle tonight. Whatever happens, you must find Minerva and tell her your decision."
"Professor McGonagall? The old hag hates me. She'll never believe me, not after she realizes I've let Death Eaters into the castle."
"We are not alone, Draco. There's someone here listening. He has heard everything that you've said tonight, and he will vouch for you."
Draco's laugh sounds unhinged. "There's nobody here! You've gone barmy!"
"You will come over to our side, won't you Draco? Perhaps you should say it again, to leave no doubt."
Draco lowers his eyes, unable to face the Headmaster's steady, kind stare. His gaze falls on the two brooms abandoned at the edge of the tower. He exhales sharply, closing his eyes. "Yes, all right? I'm not… I'm not a killer. I don't want to hurt you, okay? I don't want to be a Death Eater."
At that moment the door bangs open and four Death Eaters shove their way onto the Astronomy Tower.
A/N Sorry for the delay, and thank you to all those who reviewed and followed the story! Special extra thanks to mirrorkinomoto for commenting on each chapter :)
