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- Professor Snape had sacrificed his soul, for... mine. -
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I walked up the stairs of the astronomy tower where Professor Snape had told me Professor Dumbledore would return, and indeed he had. As I approached the top, I heard his voice talking with someone, but I couldn't depict who. It was Hermione's betrayed voice that kept replaying over and over in my head, causing me to lose focus. After all this planning and waiting, distraction was the last thing I needed. I forced myself to forget about her, sleeping peacefully and alone in the Room of Requirement. A different room from where Auntie Bella and her minions would arrive momentarily.
When I reached the top of the tower, he was alone. I quickly scanned the surrounding area, searching for who he had been chatting with, but no one was there. The old man was alone. He just watched me as I pulled my wand out, pointing it at him.
"Good evening Draco," he said kindly to me. What did he know? He didn't seem unnerved that I had my wand tip focused on his heart, almost as if he had expected me. But how? There was no way he could have known about this. It was kept entirely secret. For an instant I wondered if Hermione had broken her promise to me and told him, but I realized that I would be in Azkaban, awaiting a death from The Dark Lord if that were the case. To my great surprise, he continued to greet me, "What brings you here on this fine spring evening?"
I addressed my worry about the second person in the room, knowing very well that Potter had an invisibility cloak in his possession that he could be hiding under, "Who else is here? I heard you talking to someone," I demanded.
"Oh, I've been talking aloud to myself. I find it extraordinarily useful. Have you been whispering to yourself Draco?" It was a strange response, almost fatherly. He seemed genuinely concerned about me, but I couldn't let my feelings get in the way. I put my wand up higher, firmer this time.
I should've just said the two words then. The two words that would end his life. If I had said them at that moment, then it wouldn't have gotten so much harder.
"You are no assassin Draco," he soothed.
He still believed in me. Me, standing here with my wand outstretched, ready to murder him in an instant, and he showed no sign of fear, just sympathy towards me. It was unbelievable, unheard of. I quivered, but I didn't back down, "How do you know what I am," I hissed, "I've done things that would shock you." Like making the one I love forget about me.
"Like cursing Miss Katie Bell, hoping that she would bear a cursed necklace to me. Or replacing wine in a bottle with poison?"
I didn't know how he knew, but for some reason, it didn't surprise me. The same feeling that I have always had about Professor Dumbledore resurfaced. His all-knowing demeanor, and his understanding embrace around your soul. It made me feel weak. I had to kill this man. It was my duty. "He trusts me," I caught myself repeating the same words I had earlier this year with Professor Snape. Like I had revealed my mark to Hermione, I ripped up my sleeve, showing the professor the Dark Mark emblazoned on my skin, "I was chosen."
"Well in that case, I'll make it easy for you," he held up his hands, surrendering to me, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill him. The only thing I could think of doing was disarming him. I pulled up the painful memory of Hermione Granger perfecting my wand movements when we practiced in the Room of Requirement last year as I snapped, "Expelliarmus!"
The professor's wand flew out of his hands. His reaction was not one that I had expected. He seemed more shocked that I had disarmed him then when I showed him my mark. He must've known all along about the mark, but he never thought I would cast a spell against him.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Just then, the astronomy tower stairs creaked, and I heard footsteps crawling up them. Among the thumping and creaking of the wood were the crazed laughs of my aunt. She had arrived. I only hoped that they didn't find Hermione. I had left her defenseless. They shouldn't have, I reminded myself. You can't enter someone else's room unless they let you in.
"There are others," the old man noted, "How?"
"The vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement. I've been mending it."
"Let me guess, it has a twin."
"Borgin and Burkes."
"Ingenious Draco, absolutely ingenious," he complimented. Something inside of me broke. He was the only one who has ever congratulated me on being able to complete the task, let alone having the idea. Not even my mother could spare the sentiment, and Hermione had too much hatred for the task I would use it for. If only I had killed him earlier, before he wove his way into my heart. I held my wand up again, determined to do it this time, before he could do anything more, then I lowered it, as he continued to speak to me, "Years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices. Let me help you Draco."
I wanted to take his offer, but I couldn't. It meant stepping into the unknown against The Dark Lord, and that was never a safe place to be. I had to reject his hand, he didn't understand. Almost the same words had formed in my mouth that I had told Hermione just minutes ago. It felt funny to repeat them, but strangely, they were the right thing to say. "Don't you understand? I have to do this. I have to kill you, or he's going to kill me," my voice squeaked like the terrified child I was.
The Dark Lord has cut the child in me open and sewed his evil intentions in the openings. He has turned me into an instrument of murder, but there is no stopping this. I can't fail, but I lowered my wand. I have to kill him, but I lost heart. I almost left the room when the door opened. Auntie Bella and her cronies, the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback and a few others who I didn't recognize entered the room.
"Well, look what we have here," Auntie Bella said when she entered the room. I held my wand stiffer, aligning it with the old man's heart. She came behind me and whispered, "Well done Draco."
It was the sort of praise that I knew was fake, she didn't really believe in me, she was just impressed that I could actually do it. It wasn't the compliments that Professor Snape had given, or even Professor Dumbledore just moments ago. Her voice reverberated in my mind and I remembered what Hermione said about what she had done to Neville Longbottom's parents. She was only here to watch me kill someone. She had come to the show. Witnessing me killing Dumbledore would entertain her, she would enjoy hearing me shout the curse and seeing him fall to the ground, dead. It disgusted me. If she wasn't part of my family, I would have turned on her then. If she didn't bring three body guards, one of whom being a werewolf, I would have turned on her then. If I had any courage, I would have turned on her then, but instead, my gaze stayed transfixed on Professor Dumbledore, wand aimed and ready to fire.
"Do it," she hissed, sounding almost exactly like a serpent.
One of her cronies commented, "He doesn't have the stomach, just like his father."
I turned my head to look him in the eye, daring him to say that again, but he was right, I didn't have the stomach. I couldn't do this, but not for the reason that he thought. I couldn't become a monster. I couldn't look in the mirror and hate myself for the rest of my life. Hermione had changed me. She showed me the light in life, and that you can be both a Death Eater and a good person. My wand arm shook violently as I stared into Professor Dumbledore's forgiving eyes.
I couldn't do it, not because I didn't have the stomach, but because I wanted to be the good person that Hermione Granger saw. Or, at least, used to see. If she couldn't remember me in the same way that I remembered her, the least I could do is honor her vision for me.
The heartless Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange interrupted my memories of Hermione Granger, "Go on Draco, NOW!" she screamed. I raised my wand again, remembering where I was and who my allegiances were. What am I thinking? If I don't do this, I am sentencing myself to death.
My body was having a fit of rage, protesting against me. I was ripping to pieces. I took a shaky, hollowed breath and counted down from three. On three I would say the curse and kill the old man. Hermione, I'm sorry. Okay, one, two...
I didn't even get to three before I head his cool voice, "No." Professor Snape emerged from behind me. In my panic, I hadn't even noticed him there. I wrenched my wand down, thankful for him being there. Suddenly I realized the bravery in his words. He knew that Professor Dumbledore had to die, but at the last instant he decided to save me from doing the deed. It was the most noble thing anyone had ever done for me.
"Severus," the old man begged, "please." What was he begging for?
Professor Snape looked pained and torn, just like I had been, but he raised his wand up, just like I had, and said, "Avada Kedavra."
It was way more horrifying than I had ever imagined. My breath caught as the deadly shot of green light emerged from Professor Snape's wand and approached Professor Dumbledore, who didn't cower in fear, instead, he accepted his end. When the green curse hit him, all life was taken from the room. All of a sudden the astronomy tower was ice cold like a winter's day.
Professor Snape had sacrificed his soul, for... mine.