If I Lose Myself

Chapter Twenty: Draco

If I Lose Myself

by EMPG22HoPe

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Chapter Twenty: Draco

June 1997

The past few weeks melted into late June when Draco finally fixed the Vanishing Cabinet. And for some added luck or dread, Rosmerta had sent a message through her fake Galleon one early evening that Dumbledore gone to Hogsmeade with Harry Potter—looking very out of himself. It seemed to be a miracle too good for Draco, and yet; a part of him wished it didn't have to look so easy.

It was only a matter of time before his message was sent that same evening to the cabinet's twin; and with only an hour and a half passed did the Death Eaters finally materialized out of the cabinet and into the Room of Requirement. They were looking exhilarated and hungry, and Draco had to hold his disappointment and tongue back when he saw that Fenrir Greyback had joined the lot. Draco hated him.

But there was no turning back now. Today was the day he would have to do what he'd been working for all year. And yet, as he walked with stride and fought through the members of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix; he felt a pang of impending doom that he tried to push aside. A part of him had hoped he could still stay down and fight, spare himself some time to let the other more sinister Death Eaters do the job for him. But his Aunt Bellatrix had already shoved him up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower, and he had no choice but to carry on.

Draco had disarmed Dumbledore once he erupted into the tower's space. There was a short exchange between them, and for a moment—he felt the slightest bit grateful. If he could just buy some time... do a little villain monologue in front of Dumbledore... wait for the other Death Eaters to get there to him. But he was here—hawthorn wand pointed at the greatest wizard known to man today, at his complete mercy. Why couldn't he do it?

If there's even... a semblance of a few short minutes to stop yourself, to resist doing it; give yourself that privilege. You owe it to yourself to do that.

Remembering Astoria's words only made the job much difficult now because he had pondered her words for the past weeks since they last spoke. He had already given himself that privilege and now that privilege meant little when he was already facing the one thing he should be doing.

You are not a bad person, Draco.

"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer." Dumbledore spoke.

"How do you know?" Draco snapped coldly, as if to question both Dumbledore and the echoing words of Astoria inside his head. "You don't know what I'm capable of, you don't know what I've done!"

At this point, he didn't know what or who he was. It was as if he knew at one point, but then tumbled onto another kind of person in fear. He was losing his person in him and he was feeling completely helpless.

"Oh, yes, I do," Dumbledore said plainly as Draco flinched. "You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts... so feeble, to be honest, that I wonder whether your heart has been really in it..."

"It has been in it!" Draco said a little more forcefully this time. He wished that he could sound convincing, but Dumbledore's words and assumptions were truth—truths that he didn't want to submit to. And yet, he knew deep down they were, in fact, feeble attempts. He banked on the stupidity of luck to get him through it; but fate certainly had a funny way of playing tricks with him.