The Bracelet (Draco Malfoy Fanfiction)

Chapter 65

Hey guys!

I'm sorry this chapter took so long to upload - I'm really trying to make these last few as perfect as they can be. Thanks for being patient and sticking with me through this amazing journey!

Enjoy!

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Draco's POV -

"Good evening, Draco."

It's not cold outside, but rather cool. Frigid wind nips at my flesh. The sky is absolutely gray, infested with things of sinister nature. The dark mark has been cast among it, green and leering, swimming between the black clouds.

I'm shaking, but not because of the cold. I feel void, soulless, withered by age, yet my entire body is rigid and trembling like I've never been more alive with fear.

"What brings you here tonight?" Dumbledore is airy and placid as the world collapses around him.

"Who's with you?" I blurt. My voice is almost the complete opposite; shrill, panicked. "I heard voices - more than one."

"I tend to have conversations with myself." He continues. "I find it a rather useful and thought-provoking stratagem when engaging with oneself."

I don't speak. I can't - don't know what to say.

The death eaters are inside of the school, wreaking havoc only a few floors below, and it's because of me. Dumbledore will fall, because of me.

I thought I'd prepared myself, but for something like this, I guess there's really no way you can be prepared. I hadn't expected to cry, and here I am, holding back tears. The hand holding my wand quivers with the absolute dread of what I'm about to do.

"You are no murderer, Draco."

He must know. He already seems to know, but how?

A tidal wave of panic washes over me - childish pride.

"You don't know who I am!" I shout, thrusting my wand further forward. "You've know idea of what I've done!"

Dumbledore allows a small sigh to blow past his lips. The wind peppers through his thinning white hair.

"The necklace, you tried to deliver to me through Katie Bell, on which you used an unforgivable curse. The mead, which you laced with poison. All feebly indirect attempts to kill me, almost as though you secretly wished they would not succeed." He gives me a sincere and pitiful glance, and I hate him for being able to read me so easily. "You are no murderer. You are simply afraid."

"The Dark Lord trusts me!" I shout, my heart lodging itself in my throat, a hard lump. "I was chosen!"

I reach down, and shakily yank up my left sleeve, revealing the dark ink on my flesh that so identically mirrors the mark in the sky. The headmaster is not intimidated by me - only looks at me sorrowfully, like a father at his son who's just made a poor decision.

My own father has never looked at me this way.

Dumbledore spreads his arms. "Then I shall make it easy for you-"

"Expelliarmus!" I growl, because I cannot bring myself to utter anything worse. The elder wand flies from the professor's hand, clattering across the floor a few feet away.

A loud explosion erupts from below, and my hand trembles so violently that I almost drop my wand. I give an involuntary whimper, puppy-like, and mentally curse myself. I can't come across as weak.