"... We were chosen for this!"
Draco sneaks in front of Aine, though his wand still pointing at Dumbledore, his other free hand reaches back to hers to clasp it, silently comforting her. He pushes away the revelation of Voldemort being Aine's true and birth father from his head. His silver eyes swirl in her golden ones as he mutters a consolation to her in his mind, matching the icy fiery hatred of Aine's.
His blood boiled even more when he now knew that the Dark Lord had further leverage on Aine. Was this why she had told him that even if they had failed to carry out their mission, Voldemort won't kill them— Her? It was because she was his very own daughter.
He shook away the disturbances, not wanting to get distracted when his target was in front of him. Draco calms his mind and redirects his focus to Dumbledore who was already meeting his eyes.
The older wizard narrowed at the two youngsters, trailing to their intertwined hands and unspoken words being said between the looks they gave each other. He understands the mission and their perseverance now.
How brutal it was indeed... Two children who had no choice were forced to come to this.
"I shall make it easy for you..." Dumbledore said, shifting his other hand that was holding onto his wand.
Alarmed by the sudden movement, Draco had mistaken Dumbledore's intention of fighting back. Before the Headmaster could even finish his sentence, Draco disarmed him. "Expelliarmus!" he shouted, waving his Hawthorne wand as Dumbledore's Elder Wand flew out of his own grasp.
He was now weaponless but that didn't make Aine or Draco drop their guards. They know how powerful their Headmaster was even without his wand. Non-verbal and wandless magic? He was more than capable of performing it.
"Very good... Very good," Dumbledore praises the two, he only wondered what was their next move.
In a distance, somewhere in the depths of the castle, a long heavy groan erupted. Draco hitches his breath and looks over his shoulder while Aine keeps her eyes forward. Taken aback by the muffled yells, Dumbledore cocks his head to the noise. "You're not alone. There are others... How?"
"The Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement," Draco answered through his clenched jaw. "We have been mending it."
A half sigh left Dumbledore's lips and he closes his eyes for a moment to piece it all together in his head. "That's very clever, though I presume it must be difficult for the two of you to mend it. Let me guess, it has a sister?" he suspected, noting the twitch in Draco's eye. He grins lightly, "A twin..!"
"In Borgin and Burkes. They form a passage!" Draco exposes and Aine squeezed his hand. He gave her a side glance and she gave him a subtle shake of her head, reminding him not to reveal too much.
"Ingenious..." the Headmaster complimented again, commending their hard work and efforts. Surely, it wasn't an easy feat for mere two fifteen and sixteen years old kids to be doing. He was proud but upset at the same time. "Is that why the two of you tried so hard to mend it and when you see the fruits of your endeavours not growing, you resulted to using crude and reckless measures in making sure you succeed?"
"Why does it even matter?" Aine cuts in coldly, having her fair share of peaceful exchanges. They were wasting time breaking down what they'd done, almost as if informing Dumbledore of what they have been through all year with pride. However, flattery was not what they needed to hear. It wouldn't get them anywhere too. "It still doesn't change the fact that we did it anyway."
"You know, Aine... You've always reminded me of one of my former students. Back then, I was too late to save her and when I finally had the chance to speak to her, it was already too late," Dumbledore tells her and Aine only glared at him. "You were alone, angry and in anguish..."
The girl scoffed, was this his attempt to make her feel better after what she did? If anything, it wasn't working: it only made her heart blacker, tainted with vengeance. "After ALL we have done, you still truly believe we're worth saving? That we're good at heart?" she questioned.
"Oh, believe me, Aine. I do— I do believe that you are both capable of changing to the right side and that you can both be saved," Dumbledore told her, his gaze full of certainty.
"You're wrong, professor," Aine responded while shaking her head. She proved him so. " You should have seen the way Harry looked at me when he realize who I was: the disgust on his face like he has seen some sort of plague. You should have seen the face as I controlled poor Katie, I saw the fear in the reflection of her eyes as if she was looking at a monster. And the delighted smile I wore when I killed that man without blinking an eye!"
She panted and recomposes herself. "And they were all right— I... I was wicked. I was a monster like him!"
"Aine, I know how painful it is. But you are not evil. No one is truly evil at heart and that goes the same for you, Draco," he looks between the two of them, eager for them to trust him. "As much as the two of you may feel otherwise, you're not monsters... It is because of the bad things that surround the two of you that forced you to take on this path of evil."
Aine's lips quivered and she swallowed down another sob. So desperately, she wanted to believe his words more than anything but the connection she has with Voldemort was serving it all; the string of hope thinning away.
Dumbledore staggered back, he holds onto the railings for support when the strength in his legs faded. He pushes on in spite of the pain, they need to hear what he has to say...
"It is all because terrible things had happened to the two of you, that should not have. My only regret is that I wasn't there to save Elliot or the two of you. So let me shoulder your burdens... Now— I can save you, Aine... And you as well, Draco," he extends his tremoring hands to them, hoping they would take it.
"Please... Please let me help the both of you," he beseeches with a tender gaze and glistening eyes.
Draco shakes his head, on the verge of tears. "We don't want your help!" he lied, swallowing hard as his wand hand trembled. "Don't you understand? We have to do this— We have to kill you!"
A tear trickled down Aine's right left eye and a shaky breath escapes her lips. "Or he's going to kill us and them..." she uttered back so softly that Dumbledore could barely hear it.
The horror in the two students' eyes broke the wise old wizard's heart. Despite how they were backing him into a corner with their wands pointing at him, in his eyes, all he saw was fear and a silent cry of plea. Even so, he still wishes to help the two of them. "Come to the right side, Aine, Draco. We can hide the two of you and send our forces to make sure your brother and mother are safe. And when the time comes for your father to leave Azkaban, Draco... We can protect him too! We can guarantee the safety of all of you—"
"You can't guarantee anything, professor. No one can," Aine murmured. She was kept hidden her whole life from secrets and truths. She has to hide who she was all this time, all year about what she was. She has been running and running but she was tired of it all now.
I don't want to hide anymore...
Moreover, Aine knows perfectly well how fragile human lives are. As much as she believes Dumbledore was one of the greatest sorcerers in the world, there was only so much he could do to save or guarantee someone's life. Her eyes travelled to his blackened hand, he was already dying.
What could prevent Death?
Nothing. No one.
No one could EVER defy it.
As difficult as it was to birth life, on the contrary, reaping it was easy and quick. Aine has seen it with Cedric, Sirius, her father, and the Deatheater she had killed before, and how fast one can descend to experiencing Death. It can happen within seconds, or a blink of an eye. No one would be able to stop it should a simple green spark be shot from the Dark Lord's wand.
It was that easy.
Just to say that two words of the Unforgivable Curse. One's life would be gone, just like that.
Dumbledore gave them a reassuring nod, "You have my word. I give you that," he promised the youngsters. "You're both not killers, not monsters, not evil..."
Draco drops his hand that was tightly grasping onto his wand by a fraction, conflicted more than ever. His mouth parted as a strained inaudible whimper left. He looked vacantly to Aine who was equally if not more hesitant.
"Please..." she mouthed. She didn't want to do it but Dumbledore's words had honestly wavered her a little. She wants to believe that there was a way that they could make this all work but there wasn't.
They have already come too far, too late to turn back now.
She has already chosen.
Aine's breath hitched when she heard the thundering footsteps rushing up from the stairs, and very quickly she plastered on an emotionless face and raised her wand to Dumbledore. Her trembling hands steadied at his heart.
A high-pitched cheer could be heard when heels clicked into the Astronomy Tower, joining Aine and Draco were the other Deatheaters. Bellatrix led the group and a sinister grin spread across her face when she saw the situation. "Look what we have here..." she tittered, stepping closer to her nephew.
The Carrow twins, Fenrir Greyback and Cal Moran came into view, a scoff left the werewolf and Cal whistled. Bellatrix darts between Aine, and Draco before settling on Dumbledore, actually genuinely surprised that they have managed to corner the mighty old wizard that her dear sister had claimed. They even dominated him and rendered him weaponless and was now just like a trapped grey mouse.
Cal was more impressed and he applauded the two students. He knew that Aine was more than capable of such actions but Draco had exceeded his expectations.
While Bellatrix plodded to her nephew and kissed his cheeks, she muttered a word of affection and approval into his ears, sending shivers down his spine and he resisted every urge in his body to shudder physically. "Well done, Draco."
"See? I knew you could do it, darling," Cal whispers seductively when he slithered to Aine's side. He places a gentle pat on her head before wiping the single tear tainting her beautiful face, then he licks it off his finger. Draco very nearly takes his head for his actions.
"Good evening, Bellatrix," Dumbledore greeted calmly as though welcoming her into a tea party. He shifted his sight to acknowledge the others; criminals he recognized. "Fenrir— Amycus, you brought Alecto with you as well... Charming," he simpers, nodding at every one of the faces who showed themselves before finally landing on Cal.
Dumbledore squinted at the youngest amongst the group of Deatheaters. "And you must be Calore Moran," he stated, agnizing the existence of the man who murdered Elliot Estoileon.
Cal snickered and cringed at his full name, giving a sarcastic bow to the great wizard. "I prefer it if you call me Cal instead of that stupid ridiculous name my father gave me. But it is a great honour for someone so formidable to know me~" he jested. The frown on his face when he spoke of his father was very quickly replaced by a cunning smile. "Although, I guess that doesn't really matter anymore now since we're going to kill you."
"Well then, I supposed introductions are over, wouldn't you agree?" Dumbledore chuckles lightly as he placed a hand up.
The frizzy-haired witch cackles, "Ever so excessive with your mannerisms," she snarls. "I'll love to keep this going, Albus. Unfortunately, I'm afraid we're on a bit of a tight schedule!"
"Our master awaits for our return, you see," Cal added. He glanced at Aine and Draco, "He eagerly anticipates the success of this mission. So, come on..."
"Do it!" Bellatrix hissed.
Draco's wand rises again, but he was showing even lesser resolution than ever. Terror cemented all over his pale face when he stares deep into Dumbledore's eyes. The man was looking even frailer by the minute, barely holding on.
I can't...
Aine hears his thoughts loud and clear. His voice cracks as he yells in his own mind, shattering himself even more. She could see that he didn't want to do it from the corner of her eyes. He was begging with his gaze alone. He couldn't do it.
"He doesn't have the stomach!" Fenrir cuts in, his face scowling with disdain at Draco. The boy could only grip his wand even tighter until his knuckles went white, his fingers cramping up. He could barely aim properly, let alone hold his arm straight.
"Just like his father!" Amycus— The Carrow brother satires, further triggering Draco.
"What about you, sweetheart?" Cal joins in, hovering behind Aine's shoulders like a ghost taunting her. He pokes fun at her using the nickname her father always used when calling her, he enjoys seeing her cold facade chip away. "Can you do it? Come on, I'm sure you can! It's very easy since you've done it before, haven't you? Remember that time when you did that to Lahar?"
Images of the Deatheater burning from her own power flashed by Aine and she swallows. She remembers him. She remembers every single one of them...
"Just two words, and it's toodle-oo, Albus~" Cal tempts with a wave.
Aine grits her teeth and she glares at him now. She looked absolutely feral as her golden eyes blazed with such bloodlust, ire burning through her veins and not for Dumbledore but for Cal.
Fenrir clicks his tongue as the children idle about, he was growing impatient. "They obviously can't do it, so let me finish it in my own way!" he offered, baring his teeth as he moves towards Dumbledore with an outstretched arm. He would gladly rip apart Dumbledore's throat and devour him as he did to all those children he has killed.
"NO—!" Bellatrix yells at the top of her lungs sternly; there was a purple flash of light and the werewolf was yanked backwards. He hits one of the columns and staggered, furiously growling at the woman in charge.
"The Dark Lord was clear that the boy has to do it!" the brutal-faced man reminded his feral comrade.
"GO ON, DRACO! DO IT! NOW!" the older witch screeched with hysteria.
"You too, darling, come on," Cal prodded at the same time. He holds her hand steady for her, grinning with excitement. "There is no need to be afraid. No fear..." his words brushed against her ears.
Even with Cal literally grabbing her hand with his claws, Aine's wand trembles. Her hand felt heavier than ever and the weight was crushing her with every breath she took. Aine's breathing was shallow and ragged, and before long, she was already holding her breath. She thought her head was going to burst from all the throbbing of her nerves and she pursed her quivering lips, growing numb. She forced herself to not pass out.
Say it...
Say it!
Hurry up and say it!
Aine was begging with her eyes, Dumbledore could see it. He could tell none of them wanted to do it, but they must.
The two had prayed and hoped for a different outcome. To so desperately wanting to take his hand that he has stretched out to them, to join him. To join the good side again. Aine and Draco trusted that he could truly protect them and save their family. They dreamt of a version where they had switched sides and be on the end who was fighting against the bad, against their nightmares.
Howbeit, the stakes were too high for them both.
If Aine doesn't do it now— If she doesn't end her Headmaster's life right now, the lives of Aion, Draco and Mrs Malfoy will all be in jeopardy. It was either she kills Dumbledore now or witnesses her family die the second she chooses otherwise.
Please... Please... Please...
Her whole body was paralyzed with fear, but her face had contorted together in pain, cracking through her apathetic, ruthless mask was the guilt. Her eyes hardened at Dumbledore with tears as the nerves in her eyes strained, growing bloodshot.
"No fear..." Cal reminded.
Set it free...
"A... A- Avada..." her throat squeezes out the words, finding the strength to speak. Her wand was at the ready, aiming at Dumbledore's pounding heart. She takes another gulp of air as her golden eyes freeze on the tender wrinkled ones. "Avada—"
"No."
A monotonous voice sharply interrupted behind Aine and she lets out an inaudible gasp, turning to the cloaked man who had emerged from the darkness silently. Solemn and unreadable.
Snape's eyes swept across the scene, from Dumbledore who was cornered away, to the four Deatheaters, to an enraged werewolf who looked like he was about to pounce and start ripping people's throats at the corner and finally to Draco and Aine.
Aine, whose eyes and wand were still fixated on Dumbledore, looked at him with a hollowed gaze that conveyed her bitterness.
He cast his eyes downwards to Harry briefly before finding his reflection back in Aine's glossy eyes. The older man lingers over to Snape before speaking his name, very softly. "Severus..."
Snape said nothing as he trod forward, past the growling werewolf, the group of Deatheaters, Draco and lastly, he placed himself between Aine and his colleague. His coal-black eyes narrowed for a moment at Dumbledore and etched on the deep harsh lines on his forehead, were abhorrence and resentment.
"Severus... Please."
With a swift and unhesitating wave of his hand, Snape points his wand directly at Dumbledore. "Avada Kedavra."
A bright green stream of light shoots out from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. For a second, the older wizard just staggered on the railings; his eyes meeting Aine's and he slowly tips over the metal balustrades. The warm gentle light in Dumbledore's fatherly eyes diminished away like his life.
And then, he fell backwards the Astronomy Tower's railings like a great ragdoll. The night swallowed him whole. There wasn't even a single scream from Dumbledore before a gruesome violent thud echoed.
Afterwards, only the spine-chilling silence remained.
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