Lost Memories

lv. war

"Draco!" I shouted, running up the stairs.

Draco and Dumbledore both looked at me; Draco looked afraid and confused, Dumbledore looked sad.

"What are you— How did you get up here?" Draco pointed his wand to me.

If I made a move to pull my wand from my sleeve, Draco would take the moment to strike me.

"Please," I pleaded, "don't do it."

Draco's mouth contorted involuntarily, as though he had tasted something very bitter.

"Stay back— I-I don't want to hurt you," he said.

"Okay, okay, my hands are up," I placed my hands up by my head. "Just don't—"

"I have orders!"

"Yes," Dumbledore started, "but as for being about to kill me, Draco, you have had several long minutes now, we are quite alone, I am more defenceless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted."

"We decided to put the Dark Mark over the tower and get you to hurry up here, to see who'd been killed," said Draco. "And it worked!"

"Well, yes and no," said Dumbledore. "But am I to take it, then, that nobody has been murdered?"

"Someone's dead," said Draco, and his voice seemed to go up an octave as he said it. "One of your people — I don't know who, it was dark. I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way."

"Yes, they do that," said Dumbledore.

"D-Draco, who died?" I stuttered.

There was a bang and shouts from below, louder than ever; it sounded as though people were fighting on the actual spiral staircase that led to where Dumbledore, Draco, Harry, and I stood.

"There is little time, one way or another," said Dumbledore. "So let us discuss your options, Draco."

"My options!" said Draco loudly. "I'm standing here with a wand — I'm about to kill you —"

"My dear boy, let us have no more pretence 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."

"Draco, you don't have to do this. You have a choice—"

"I haven't got any options or choices!" said Draco, and he was suddenly white as Dumbledore. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

"I appreciate the difficulty of your position," said Dumbledore. "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 winced at the sound of the name.

"Draco, I once knew a boy years ago who made all the wrong choices. Let me help you."

"I don't want your help! I don't need it. Don't you see? I have to do it— I have to!" Draco shouted and I felt my heart shatter, I was truly scared for him.

"Draco, you are not a killer! Put down your wand and we can go hide o-or—"

"No, Charlotte," Draco narrowed his eyes at me, his wand still pointed at Dumbledore.

"You're not a Death Eater!" I shouted at him. "You're barely seventeen, not a cultist in—"

But suddenly footsteps were thundering up the stairs, and a second later Draco was buffeted out of the way as four people in black robes burst through the door onto the ramparts; all their wands pointed at me. It seemed the Death Eaters had won the fight below.