firecracker ???

The Vanishing Cabinet thrummed beneath Draco's fingertips.

It was working now—fully, completely. The magic pulsed clean and whole through the carved panels. The rune chains Regulus had helped him anchor sparked once, then settled.

Draco didn't speak.

He simply stepped back and let them in.

One by one, they emerged from the darkness.

Alecto. Amycus. Greyback. Regulus. All cloaked in black, wands at the ready.

Bellatrix stepped through last.

Her eyes burned with anticipation.

"The Headmaster's tower?" she asked.

Draco nodded tightly.

He turned away before she could see his face.

He didn't want the others to come. That wasn't part of the plan. If this spiraled, too many variables could break the illusion.

He only needed one witness.

"Come with me," he said to Bellatrix.

Her grin widened. "Oh, darling, I thought you'd never ask."

-

Draco's footsteps echoed up the spiral stairs.

His wand was clenched tightly in his hand. Not because he wanted it. Because he had to hold it. That was the part Voldemort would check. The wand. The spell. The performance.

He stepped out into the cold night air.

And there was Dumbledore.

Leaning heavily on the parapet. Pale. Blood at his temple from the carefully inflicted wound Regulus had given him earlier with a silent hex. A performance wound. Nothing fatal. Just enough to make the act more convincing.

"You're late," Dumbledore said, not unkindly.

Draco didn't answer.

The wind howled around them. Rain slicked the stones beneath his feet. Somewhere far below, the lake churned darkly.

Draco raised his wand.

They held the silence between them like a pact.

"I have to do this," Draco finally said.

"I know," Dumbledore said softly.

"He said— he said if I didn't do it, he'd kill my sister, my parents."

"I know."

"He's going to check. My wand. He's going to know."

"And so he will."

Draco swallowed.

"I don't want to be like this," he whispered. "I didn't ask for this."

"I know you didn't," Dumbledore said, still calm. "You're not a murderer, Draco. You never were."

Draco's wand shook.

"Everyone thinks I will be. Even her."

Dumbledore's eyes sharpened slightly.

"Lyra."

"She thinks I'm weak," Draco muttered, staring at the floor. "That I only care about myself. But I never wanted her to be part of this."

"She knows more than you realise," Dumbledore said. "She's never seen you as weak."

"She used to think I'd be the one to save us," Draco said bitterly. "But I've never been enough for that."