Omnia Mors Perimit

There was a bright side to almost being killed, believe it or not. Speaking of believe - Draco was flabbergasted that Potter - Holy Saint Potter! - had actually used a bit of Dark Magic. Why would he even know these things?! Snape had saved him, had even managed that not a single scar was left - put it like that, Draco owed him one. Or maybe even two, because Snape had seen to inform the Dark Lord that his disciple had been severely injured, and consequently, Draco had got an official leave to take some time for recovery.

Waking up in the Infirmary, he had seen Panse sitting in a chair next to the bed, dosing. He had been strangely moved by her attachment, and thank Merlin that she hadn't been awake in that moment, for if she had thrown herself at him just there, he wouldn't have resisted. Being almost dead had that effect, right, it proved just how very valuable life was, that one had to seize it, squeeze out the last ounce of it, feel it, relish it -

But she had been asleep, Draco had fallen asleep again two minutes later, and opening his eyes again next morning, she was gone. Madam Pomfrey told him that even his mum had been there to look after him during the night. Mum - how he missed her! How he longed to see her again! He had been awful, he wanted to apologise, he wanted to tell her that he was doing all this for her alone. It was true. He had forgotten the eternal fame that he had meant to achieve, he would sneer at the 'honour' he had believed to be given. If he would finally manage to pull this through, he'd do it for nobody else but his mum.

Incidentally, Myrtle kept her promise. Not that he truly believed she'd be of much help, muggleborn to begin with, and killed before reaching her Fifth Year even. What spells could she know that he hadn't tried yet? But still, he was taking a weird comfort in her presence; he showed the cabinet to her, smiled benevolently while she inspected it, and made a very silly face when she turned to him with a triumphant grin.

"You didn't put it together the right way, Draco," she said simply.

"What?!"

"No, you see - I could manage to go through the back because I'm a ghost, and there is a passage. You want me to try where I get using the passage? Shall I?"

He nodded, astonished, and ten minutes later, she returned with an even wider grin. She had been in the shop of Borgin and Burke's - he asked her for details to make sure she wasn't simply making this up. So he had been right - the cabinet worked - the passage was already there - and all he needed to do was reconstruct the back? He couldn't remember when he had felt that marvellous for the last time. He thanked the ghost over and over again and promised her to polish the idiotic medal in the trophy room that had been bestowed to some Prefect for tackling the culprit of her death - the wrong culprit even. But Myrtle found nevertheless that this medal was the only thing reminding people that she had once been alive.

He was so close - he tripled his efforts, and only a few days later, he had completed the redesign. He stepped into the wardrobe - one more step - two - three - he could see the black of the back - he stretched out his hand - it went right through - another step - and yes! He was inside of the passage! Yes! Yes! Yes!

He tried it several times, before giving a start because he heard a noise out of the Secret Room, indicating an unwelcome visitor. No. Not now. Not in the moment of triumph, he wouldn't allow to be discovered just now! He peeked out through a slit, exhaling with relief. 'Twas only old Trelawney, that sloshed dipso, trying to dispose two bags of empty bottles. She was no threat to his schemes! Without bothering much for caution, he pushed open the cabinet door, throwing a handful of Peruvian Darkness Powder at her, opening the door of the room with a move of his wand and hurling her out with a lazy second flick.

He had no mind to test his luck though; instead he went back into the cabinet, using the Hand of Glory to light him the way - he didn't know what sort of creatures might be living in here and he didn't want to raise their curiosity - and even though he took a great deal longer than Myrtle - he was no ghost after all - he eventually arrived in the opposite number - in Borgin and Burke's. The shop was empty and long closed down for the night. Draco took a look around. The door bell would make a sound if he opened the door, and he didn't want old Borgin call for the Aurors because he thought that someone had broken into his premises. Draco couldn't do with Aurors tonight. He decided to conjure a bunch of bats to flap around, Borgin would blame them to have touched the bell, and without much more obstacles, he slipped out to Nocturne Alley, feeling the clear, warm air, breathing deeply and disapparating to the Dark Lord's camp.

Dumbledore had left the school, he knew because Madam Rosmerta had given him the signal. All was ready. The Dark Lord showed himself extremely pleased, and ordered, "Amycus, Alecto. Join the boy. Gibbon, Lewis, you too."

Aunt Bellatrix was beaming at him, thumps up, and already followed their comrades when the master called her back. "Not you, Bella!"

"But master!"

"No, I want to be sure that it was his own doing. You can never restrain yourself, in the end you'll help him. I have an alternative that you will like, Draco. Actually, I had meant to send him to pay your good mother a visit - he's craving for having something to - do. Fenrir?"

Draco blanched, exchanging a panicked glance with his aunt. Fenrir Greyback had been supposed to visit his mum?! And now - he didn't want to walk down a narrow passage of miles and miles, with Greyback behind him! "My lord, you are gracious, but I think I can handle this by my -"

"That'd be up to you, of course. I thought you'd rather take him with you than have him roam around, making an accidental pass at Malfoy Manor, perhaps?"

Draco stared at him, but quickly managed to compose his features. He made a bow, smiled at Greyback, and said smoothly, "My lord, I'll be honoured if you allow me to have the great Fenrir Greyback at my side. I had been mistaken - I thought you wanted me to accomplish the task at hand on my own."

"What are we then, background decoration?!" Horatio Gibbon muttered scornfully.

They hurried away and back to Borgin and Burke's. It was ridiculous how easy one could break into that shop; they waited for the owner to come down once more and 'kill that last of those damned bats'; Draco petrified him and tied him to his desk, Gibbon held back Greyback - 'we might need him still' - and they continued their journey. Greyback did not assault him from behind, as Draco was dreading all along the way, they got into the Secret Room, Draco checked if the coast was clear, finding Ginger, Redhead and Longbottom lurking in the corridor. He disabled them with Peruvian Darkness Powder, ushered his fellows out and they ran past that herd of clowns.

Okay, Dumbledore wasn't that stupid, he realised not two minutes later. The old crackpot had stationed his order guys to patrol the castle, and in the wink of an eye, they were engaged in fierce combat. For approximately five seconds, Draco was wildly excited. For so long he had wanted to prove himself in battle, but seeing the ricocheting curses, so many, so fast that his eyes could not follow, he was far from thrilled. Petrified, more like. He murmured every shield charm he could think of, frenzied, before accustoming enough to the situation that he could try some other than only defensive spells.

And then, he saw her. He couldn't say how he knew that this girl over there was his cousin Dory; he hadn't seen her since he was six or so. But he was positively certain. One of Dumbledore's guards was Dory, and he got sudden qualms to curse her. She was family! That girl had taught him swimming in the Atlantic in another life - he could impossibly harm her -

"What are you waiting for," Greyback shouted at him. "You can do better than that!"

"Prove that you're your father's son!"

The witch that he believed to be Dory faltered and shot him a strange glance through the chaos around them. She held his gaze for a couple of seconds, then faintly shook her head, disapproving, disappointed, he couldn't tell. This brought him back to his senses. Who was that little mudblood to judge! What had aunt Bella taught him - calm down, breathe, focus, aim well and just do it with all your will -

It worked. He felt a flash of elation when taking down a pillar, missing Longbottom by mere inches. Lucky bastard. Gibbon came back from conjuring the Dark Mark above the tower, and fell down to the ground in the next second; it took Draco a moment to process the fact that this had been a Killing Curse - Dumbledore's guys used Killing Curses?! But no, this one had come from Greyback, who was in some kind of bloodlust, pointing his wand at Gingerhead, firing non-stop and closing in on her. Mysteriously, he missed her each and every time, maybe he did it on purpose, he liked his meals fresh, didn't he. Draco didn't want to see this, but he was hypnotised, Greyback was only three or four feet away from her, an indescribably repulsive expression on his face, showing his fangs. One of her elder brothers must have noticed the same and jumped between them, just in the moment when Greyback swung back, and knocked him down with one mighty strike. Ginger shrieked and wanted to help her brother, but Greyback brought down enough of the ceiling to make her retreat, and with unspeakable horror, Draco saw him assault the unconscious wizard, fangs, claws, magic. Blood was spluttering high into the air, but Gingerhead had fought her way through the debris and threw a curse at Greyback, driving him away from her brother.

"Go, Draco!" Alecto Carrow barked. "We can do this easily, go!"

Yes - of course - he hadn't come here to fight McGonagall, had he - he sprinted up the stairs, pushed open the door and used a disarming spell to be on the safe side, not because he actually expected anyone to be there. To his sheer surprise, he spotted Dumbledore - and even more amazingly, Dumbledore's wand falling down over the edge. It took him a second to grasp that much.

"Good evening, Draco."

"Who else is here?"

"A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?"

'Get a grip, bloody hell', he told himself, 'show some self-control!' "No. I've got back-up. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight."

He put some scorn into his statement, but Dumbledore didn't appear too impressed. In fact, he seemed to mock him still, "Well, well. Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?"

"Yeah! Right under your nose and you never realised!"

"Ingenious. Yet - forgive me - where are they now? You seem unsupported."

"They met some of your guard. They're having a fight down below. Won't be long... I came on ahead. I - I've got a job to do." What on earth did he tell him that for?!

Dumbledore smiled like he always smiled. "Well then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy!" Draco couldn't but stare at him. Was that man totally mad by now?! What was he playing at? There was a snag here somewhere, he could smell the trap! Dumbledore was still smiling and said in his most grandfather-like voice, "Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."

"How do you know?" Keep your bloody mouth shut only once, Draco! "You don't know what I'm capable of! You don't know what I've done!"

"Oh yes, I do. 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 protested, shocked both by Dumbledore's insight in his plot, and his deduction. "I've been working on it all year - and tonight -"

He heard a feeble scream and shuddered, a flashback of Greyback preying on the Weasley bloke before his eyes.

"Somebody is putting up a good fight. But you were saying - yes, you have managed to introduce Death Eaters into my school, which, I admit, I thought impossible. - How did you do it?"

He couldn't have answered this for his life. He heard the noises from the fight downstairs and every fibre of his body wanted to grab that broom over there and just fly away, apparate home, drag his mum out before Greyback would get her and... Yeah, that was the problem - and then?

"Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone. What if your back-up has been thwarted by my guard? As you have perhaps realised, there are members of the Order of the Phoenix here tonight, too. And after all, you don't really need help... I have no wand at the moment - I cannot defend myself."

True. And...?

"I see. You are afraid to act until they join you."

Did that old weirdo try to provoke him or what?! "I'm not afraid! It's you who should be scared!"

"But why? I don't think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe," Dumbledore said kindly. Draco heard an echo of his mum's voice - 'inexpertis enim dulcis est pugna' - and he forced himself not to shake. "So tell me, while we wait for your friends - how did you smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it."

Stay calm, breathe, focus and then just fucking do it! Do it! He pointed at the old Headmaster's chest, but failed to fulfil any of the other necessary preconditions. "I had to mend that broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one's used for years. The one Montague got lost in last year."

"Ah! That was clever. There is a pair, I take it?"

"The other's in Borgin and Burke's, and they make a kind of passage between them. Montague told me that when he was stuck in the Hogwarts one, he was trapped in limbo but sometimes he could hear what was going on at school, and sometimes what was going on in the shop, as if the Cabinet was travelling between them, but he couldn't make anyone hear him. In the end, he managed to apparate out, even though he'd never passed the test. He nearly died doing it... Everyone thought it was a really good story, but I was the only one who realised what it meant... Even Borgin didn't know - I was the one who realised there could be a way into Hogwarts through the Cabinets if I fixed the broken one..."

"Very good - so the Death Eaters were able to pass from Borgin and Burke's into the school to help you - a clever plan, a very clever plan... And as you say, right under my nose..."

"Yeah! Yeah, it was!" It was weird to hear the destined victim of that clever plan recommend him more warmly than the patron of that plan had been, but Draco was proud nonetheless.

"But there were times, weren't there, when you were not sure you would succeed in mending the cabinet? And you resorted to crude and badly judged measures such as sending me a cursed necklace that was bound to reach the wrong hands... Poisoning mead there was only the slightest chance I might drink -"

"Yeah, well - you still didn't realise who was behind that stuff, did you?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. I was sure it was you."

"Why didn't you stop me then?"

"I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders."

"He hasn't been doing your orders! He promised my mother -"

"Of course, that is what he would tell you, Draco, but -"

"He's a double-agent! You stupid old man, he isn't working for you, you just think he is!"

"We must agree to differ on that, Draco. It so happens that I trust Professor Snape."

"Well, you're losing your grip then! He's been offering me plenty of help! Wanting all the glory for himself - wanting a bit of the action - what are you doing? Did you do the necklace, that was stupid, could have blown everything - but I haven't told him what I've been doing in the room of requirement - he's going to wake up tomorrow and it'll be all over and he won't be the Dark Lord's favourite anymore - he'll be nothing compared to me, nothing!"

There it was again, the smile. Everything might have been fine, but that smile really unnerved him. "Very gratifying. We all like appreciation for our own hard work, of course - but you must have had an accomplice all the same - someone in Hogsmeade, someone who was able to slip Katie the - the - aaah... Of course... Rosmerta. How long has she been under the Imperius Curse?"

"Got there at last, have you!"

"So poor Rosmerta was forced to lurk in her own bathroom and pass that necklace to any Hogwarts student who entered the room unaccompanied? And the poisoned mead - well, naturally - Rosmerta was able to poison it for you before she sent the bottle to Slughorn, believing that it was to be my Christmas present. Yes, very neat - very neat. Poor Mr Filch would not, of course, think to check a bottle of Rosmerta's... Tell me, how have you been communicating with Rosmerta? I thought we had all the methods of communication in and out of the school monitored."

"Enchanted coins, I had one and she had the other and I could send her messages -"

"Isn't that the secret method of communication the group that called themselves Dumbledore's Army used last year?"

"I got the idea from them. I got the idea of poisoning the mead from the mudblood Granger as well. I heard her talking in the library about Filch not recognising potions -"

"Please, do not use that offensive word in front of me."

Go and talk to my mother, man! He couldn't but laugh bitterly, thinking of her. God, mum - "You care about me saying mudblood when I'm about to kill you?!"

"Yes, I do. 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."

Breathe, focus, do-it-do-it-do-it - nope, nothing, his head was absolutely blank, he felt he couldn't even pronounce the incantation properly, let alone pull it through.

"Now about tonight - I am a little puzzled about how it happened. You knew that I had left the school? But of course... Rosmerta saw me leaving, she tipped you off using your ingenious coin, I'm sure."

"That's right... But she said you were just going for a drink, you'd be back..."

"Well, I certainly did have a drink - and I came back - after a fashion... So you decided to spring a trap for me?"

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

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

Fangs and claws, fangs and claws and blood, Draco shook himself, hoping to shake these pictures off too - "Someone's dead... One of your people... I don't know who it was, 'twas dark - I stepped over the body -" He swallowed hard, feeling as if he'd vomit any second now. "I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way..."

"Yes, they do that," Dumbledore said sympathetically, and instead of vomiting, Draco was now afraid that he could start to cry, he couldn't account for it. "There is little time, one way or another, so let us discuss your options, Draco."

"My options!" As if he had options, like more than one! "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."

'Old man, you don't know what you're talking about!' Draco felt all the tiredness of the past year striking him at once. Yeah. The old man was right. He wouldn't do it, because he was a complete failure, and before dawn, Fenrir Greyback would be striking his stinking fangs into Narcissa Malfoy's milk-white neck and -

"I haven't got any options," he said, hearing his own voice reduced to a mere croak. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

"I appreciate the difficulty of your position. Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realised that I suspected you."

He didn't know what was worse. The name, or the Heamaster's nonchalant revelations, and he continued in the same friendly manner, "I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legillimency against you. But now at last, we can speak plainly to each other - no harm has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived... I can help you, Draco."

"No, you can't, nobody can... He told me to do it or he'll kill me. I've got no choice," he heard himself whisper, shaking with the effort to keep the tears at bay.

"He cannot kill you if you are already dead. Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Nobody would be surprised that you had died in your attempt to kill me -- forgive me, but Lord Voldemort probably expects it. Nor would the Death Eaters be surprised that we had captured and killed your mother -- it is what they would do themselves, after all. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban - when the time comes, we can protect him too. Come over to the right side, Draco... You are not a killer."

Nobody, nobody could withstand the Dark Lord! Why wouldn't he understand! "But I got this far, didn't I? They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here - and you are in my power - I'm the one with the wand - you're at my mercy -"

"No, Draco...It is my mercy, not yours, that matters now."

He had known it all this time - he had felt it since setting his foot here - this wasn't about breath and focus and will - and he wouldn't be able to do it, he would not, he would not, and by tomorrow, his mother would have paid for her son's foolishness and follow him to his grave... He hardly noticed that he was pushed out of the way.

"Dumbledore cornered! Dumbledore wandless! Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco," he heard a voice, but barely perceiving who this was.

"Good eveing, Amycus. And you have brought Alecto too - charming..."

"Think your little jokes'll help you on your death bed, then?"

"Jokes? No, no, there are manners."

"Do it," Greyback said, waking Draco from his reverie.

"Is that you, Fenrir?"

"That's right. Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"

"No, I cannot say that I am."

Draco could see blood dripping from these disgusting teeth, making his stomach revolt. Greyback grinned wildly. "But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore!"

"Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual - you have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"

"That's right. Shocks you, that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?"

Draco didn't know about Dumbledore, but he couldn't be anymore repelled. Mum, mum, mummummum!

"Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little. And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live..."

"I didn't, I didn't know he was going to come!"

"I wouldn't want to miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore. Not when there are throats to be ripped," Greyback said merrily. "Delicious, delicious... - I could do you for after, Dumbledore!"

"No! We've got orders! Draco's got to do it. Now, Draco, and quickly!"

He had to do it, or Greyback would have him as a middle course, before doing in Dumbledore even. But Draco was numb, incapable to do as much as blink.

"He's not long for this world anyway, if you ask me! Look at him! What's happened to you, then, Dumby?"

"Oh, weaker resistance, slower reflexes, Amycus. Old age, in short... One day perhaps, it'll happen to you - if you're lucky."

"What's that mean then, what's that mean! Always the same, weren't yeh, Dumby, talking and doing nothing, nothing! I don't even know why the Dark Lord's bothering to kill yeh! Come on, Draco, do it!"

In the distance, Draco perceived someone - could it be Snape - shouting and coming closer. Lewis urged him to do it, but Draco was so shaky, he couldn't even point his wand straight.

Greyback volunteered. "I'll do it!"

"I said no!"

Suddenly, a jinx hit Greyback, and with something like relief, Draco saw Snape coming towards them with a horrible expression, and he didn't know whether to rejoice or collapse right here on the spot.

"Draco, do it, or stand aside so one of us -"

"We've got a problem, Snape, the boy doesn't seem to be able -"

"Severus," Dumbledore said very softly, and Draco knew he'd die of a heart attack before his eighteenth birthday. His pulse was beating so hard, he could barely hear - he had to observe the speaker to get what they were saying, and even then, he didn't grasp any of this.

In a daze, he saw Snape march straight on with a face edged in stone, Dumbledore said something to him, and in the blink of an eye, Snape had done it. Just like that. With a little flick. Draco couldn't move - he had never seen someone die, he couldn't believe that this was it, life couldn't end like this, could it, a little flick, what... If Snape hadn't grabbed him there, he would have sunk on his knees, unable to support himself, unable to do anything, unable to think straight.

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Si alteram... If I achieve another victory like this, I'm lost.

Inexpertis... The inexperienced crave for combat.