They had Apparated to a remote village in the middle of nowhere. For the tall, dark man, the place was a refuge, an escape, nothing more. The pale boy beside him looked haggard and listless, almost as if he didn’t know they had gone anywhere. He stared at the ground, holding a long, thin stick in his limp right hand.

The boy saw nothing, felt nothing. All he could think about was the opportunity, the opportunity to prove himself, that he’d let slip through his fingers. He had been weak. He knew he should be angry at himself, and he was, at first. But now all he felt was shame. All he could think about were the seven words that kept going round and round in his head.

“Draco, Draco, you are not a killer...�

Dumbledore hadn’t shown any fear when he’d been cornered by Draco Malfoy. The teacher had known he couldn’t do it, that he was too weak to murder someone in cold blood. Even when Dumbledore was in that powerless state, without any protection, Draco couldn’t do it. But why?

He had always wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, serving the Dark Lord, willingly doing whatever he was commanded, and yet... The first task he’d been given, he had failed. “Infiltrate Hogwarts,� the Dark Lord had told him. “Get rid of Dumbledore, and I may be prepared to offer you a place among my Death Eaters. But if you do not...� The trailing sentence was so obviously threatening, Draco hadn’t dared do anything but obey. And he still couldn’t do it. Snape, of all people, had been the one to finish off Dumbledore. Snape! And for some unknown reason, he didn’t even seem proud of it. If anything, he seemed to regret it.

Draco was pulled out of his reverie by the former Potions Master. Snape pulled him by the shoulder into an abandoned house that was little more than a shack. Snape pushed him into a spindly, rotting chair and peered out the foggy windows. He turned back to Draco. “We’ll stay here tonight,� he snapped. His face was twisted with some unreadable emotion. “Tomorrow we will have to continue. It’s dangerous to stay in one place for too long.�

Draco didn’t answer. Why had Snape brought him to this miserable hole anyway? Was he hiding from the other Death Eaters? They — he had done the Dark Lord’s bidding... So why was he running away from his reward? He should have been boasting loudly to his master about what he had done — what Draco couldn’t bring himself to do.

“Draco, Draco, you are not a killer...�

He had countered immediately, "How do you know?" Such a childish answer. Dumbledore had even seemed somewhat amused at the answer, and Draco had hated the old man for it. But he had still been unable to do it. Why? His lifelong dream had been to be like his father, a Death Eater, faithful servant to the Dark Lord. It had seemed like such a glorious position... Draco remembered, once, asking his father what a Death Eater did. He had been very young, only five or six years old, but his father’s answer had captured his mind.

“A Death Eater helps the Dark Lord do his work,� Lucius Malfoy had said. “He follows him and assists him in his noble work of ridding the world of filthy half-bloods and Muggles, those who are unworthy to use magic. One day, Draco,� he’d said, fondly ruffling his son’s blond hair, “One day you, too, will be able to serve the Dark Lord, and help finish the task of cleansing our world alongside him. One day, Draco...�

Draco had never forgotten his father’s words. He had worked to push himself above the riffraff at Hogwarts, like that know-it-all Hermione Granger. He’d even attempted to get Harry Potter on his side, give him a little taste of power, but stupid Potter instead made his friends among the blood-traitors and Mudbloods at the school. He’d made an enemy of Draco Malfoy, and Draco reminded him of that every chance he got.

Draco’s lifelong ambition had always been to join his father in the Dark Lord’s quest. For the past few years he had been eager to learn the dark spells that would prepare him for his initiation into the rank of Death Eater. He had boasted to his Slytherin friends about his readiness to do anything he was commanded, even kill someone.

But when it came to it, he couldn’t do it. “Draco, Draco, you are not a killer...�

His whole family was devoted to the Dark Lord. Draco was sure he was a disappointment to them, but even though he knew he should feel angry at himself, all he felt was a sense of guilt. He hadn’t even killed the old man, for God’s sake! So why did he feel so bad? ...And why was Snape acting the way he was? He decided to force his cowardice out of his mind and put the question to Snape himself.

“What’s the matter with you?� he asked dully. Snape froze and stared at him. “Afraid the Order of the Phoenix might catch up with you?�

“No,� Snape said shortly. He paced back in forth in front of the windows, glancing outside every few minutes. He wouldn’t meet Draco’s eyes. Finally, he turned away from the window and sighed. “No, I’m not worried about the Order,� he said, putting his face in his hands. This action was so uncharacteristic that Draco stared at him, confused. He waited for another explanation, but Snape remained silent.

Draco frowned and pressed, “Then why are you dragging me everywhere, away from the Dark Lord? I’d think you’d want to collect your reward...�

Snape’s head snapped back up. “Don’t you get it, you stupid boy?� he snarled angrily. “You failed! You couldn’t carry out his instructions! You think that you would be welcomed back? He means to kill you, boy!� He gestured sarcastically at the door. “If you want to be killed, please, go on back. I won’t stop you.�

Draco began to feel irritated. “Then why don’t you just leave me and go back yourself? You’ll be welcome. You got rid of Dumbledore!�

Draco suddenly saw Snape’s eyes grow hard, as if he were hiding some emotion he didn’t want Draco to see. He looked ashamed at what he had done. But why should he be? Draco wondered. He’s gotten rid of his greatest enemy, he should be celebrating!

“I — I didn’t want to,� Snape murmured. Draco stared at him. “You heard me!� the former Potions Master snapped. “The only reason I did... what I did... was because Dumbledore wanted me to! I haven’t been working on the Dark Lord’s side, I was only there on Dumbledore’s orders.� He seemed to want to get the whole story out into the open. “When Dumbledore told me to kill him...� He swallowed, then continued, “When he said that, I said I wouldn’t do it. But he told me I must; I had no choice. He was one of the greatest wizards of all time, Draco! Do you think I would have enjoyed killing him? He gave me a chance when no one else would, when all the odds were against me! You think I would enjoy killing a man like that?�

Draco was speechless. Snape wasn’t really on the Dark Lord’s side? He — Dumbledore had ordered him to kill him? It didn’t make sense. Draco felt a major headache beginning to emerge. Then he’s running away from the Dark Lord himself? “Why —� he began weakly, but Snape cut him off with an impatient jerk of his hand.

“If I went back to the Order, they would kill me — or worse. No one knew about Dumbledore’s plans except for him and me,� he said angrily. “The Dark Lord has had suspicions concerning my loyalty for some time now, and our running from Hogwarts will have confirmed them. Going back to either side would be the worst thing you or I could do right now.� He suddenly smashed his fist into the palm of his left hand. “I would do anything to take back what I did... But I couldn’t disobey Dumbledore, I owed him a debt... I owed him my life! And what did I do to repay him?�

Snape shook his head forcefully, his face contorted with a deep pain. He turned away from Draco and stormed out of the little house.

Draco sat there, lost in thought... and a fresh wave of guilt. I could have prevented it all... If I hadn’t so scared of what he could do to me, nothing would’ve happened tonight. Anger suddenly swept over him. But Snape didn’t have to kill Dumbledore, I could have done it myself! Then he wouldn’t have gotten in trouble, and I’d be able to go back to the Death Eaters. And it’s his own fault he’s stuck out here, if he’d made his true loyalties clear from the very beginning we wouldn’t be in this mess! It’s all his fault... He felt slightly better, blaming Snape for it all, but he knew in his heart whose fault it really was. His, for having thought he had what it took to be one of the Dark Lord’s followers. For having thought he could murder someone in cold blood. Those words again sprang into his mind.

“Draco, Draco, you are not a killer...�

“Shut up!� he shouted at no one in particular, at the kind, wrinkled face that kept swimming in front of him, at that voice... “Just shut up, alright? I could kill someone if I wanted to, I just didn’t —�

“Draco, Draco, you are not a killer...�

Draco fell to the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut and plugged his ears. Make it go away... “Stop it!� he pleaded. “Get out of my head, old man, I’m not listening to you...� Dumbledore’s words echoed in his head, over and over, denying everything Draco had stood for in the past ten years of his life, ever since he had asked his father what the Death Eaters did... “Just stop it, I’m with the Dark Lord, I listen to him, not you! You can’t win me over like this! Just shut up, go away, please!�

He staggered over to the window and smashed his fists on it. The little shack felt like a prison, keeping him inside with nothing but his stupid conscience and... that voice. Where had Snape gone? Why had he left Draco in here? Alone, with nobody to interrupt those seven words that kept repeating themselves, over and over, creating a pounding rhythm in his head.

“Draco, Draco, you are not a killer...�

“Stop it... Please...� he sobbed weakly. He slid down the glass and fell beneath it, curled up into a ball. He wrapped his arms around his legs and sat there, shivering, tears slowly trickling down his face. He was surrounded by images of Dumbledore, leaning, half-dead, against the barriers of the Astronomy Tower. His eyes pleaded with Draco... Draco squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to block it all out. But he was there, too, even in the darkness beneath his eyelids, staring at him... His eyes popped open, and he screamed, “GO AWAY!�

“Draco, Draco, you are not a killer...�

Draco felt as if he were going mad. He jumped up and tore open the door, stumbling outside, running, running, trying to get away from him... But the voice, and the image, followed him everywhere he ran. He didn’t see any of where he ran through, all he could see was Dumbledore, everywhere, giving him such a kind, forgiving look... Draco couldn’t bear it. There was nowhere he could go to escape, no place to run...

He tripped and fell over a piece of wood sticking out of the ground, but Draco saw only Dumbledore, surrounding him, saying the same thing... Always the same thing... Draco lay face-first in the dirt, quietly sobbing.

“Draco, Draco, you are not a killer...�

Then he heard something new. Draco lifted his head hopefully.

“It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now.�

Dumbledore had been prepared to help Draco, give him a place to hide from the Dark Lord. He did not blame him... There had been no look of betrayal, of anger, in his eyes... only... pity. Mercy...

But there had been a question. If he was to hide with the Order, he had to make a final choice, one that Draco had not had the time to make, not then, when it mattered most. Whose side are you on, Draco?

Whose side was he on? He had always wanted to be with the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters, with his father. So then why did he feel all this doubt? Had he ever truly felt he belonged with them? But he couldn’t be on Dumbledore’s side... could he? After all, his orders had been to kill him...

Draco lay there, thinking, heavily aware that this decision would change the course of the rest of his life. If he chose the side of the Order, the Dark Lord and all who followed him would hunt him down. He would possibly be killed. But if he rejoined the Death Eaters, he would also face death, at least according to Snape. There was also the guilt that would haunt him forever... and that small, quiet voice.

“Draco, Draco, you are not a killer...�

He wasn’t a killer. He’d known that all along, but had never really wanted to accept it. He wanted to be noble, standing for the Dark Lord’s cause, like his father. He wanted to be on the winning side. Then he suddenly remembered something Dumbledore had said, two and a half years ago, during his end-of-term speech. Draco hadn’t really been paying attention; after all, he’d never really cared about Cedric Diggory, much less a speech in his honor. But one phrase had stuck in his memory: “Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort.�

When you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, Draco thought, heart pounding. Between what is right... and what is easy... He closed his eyes, not even bothering to block out the seven words pounding in his head.

“Draco, Draco, you are not... Draco, you are not a killer... Draco, Draco, you are not a... not a killer...�

He heard the leaves in front of his face crunch. A pair of black shoes came into view, and Draco was suddenly pulled to his feet. He stared up into the face of Severus Snape.

Draco looked at him as if for the first time. At last he understood the difficulties he’d had to face, what he’d gone through. He even felt a bit sorry for him. Thank you, Professor... I’ve made my choice.

Snape stared at Draco intently. “Where did you run off to?� he asked. He seemed to sense something was different between them.

Draco shrugged. “Nowhere, really.� He didn’t care what Snape thought of his answer.

Snape’s eyes narrowed. He looked unblinking into Draco’s gray eyes, as if peering into his soul. After a moment he straightened. “All right... Come on, let’s get back. We’ve a long road ahead of us.�

Draco nodded. He followed Snape, feeling at peace with himself, and with the memory of Dumbledore. He realized that the pounding rhythm in his head had almost stopped. It was slowing down, easing into a whisper, a reminder of his choice... and his new destiny. Draco smiled as the guilt in his heart slowly melted away. He no longer felt the events of that night were his fault. And now he knew which side he’d be fighting on when the final battle between the Dark Lord and his enemies came about. He knew whose side he was on, and he felt completely at peace with his decision. No matter what came, he knew he’d chosen well. Between what was right... and what was easy.

The kind voice became a murmur, and slowly, ever so slowly... the image of Albus Dumbledore smiled. Well done, Draco.