Harry Potter 06 - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

go up an octave as he said it. ‘One of your people … I don’t know who, it was dark … I stepped over the body … I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way …’
    ‘Yes, they do that,’ said Dumbledore.
    There was a bang and shouts from below, louder than ever; it sounded as though people were fighting on the actual spiral staircase that led to where Dumbledore, Malfoy and Harry stood, and Harry’s heart thundered unheard in his invisible chest … someone was dead … Malfoy had stepped over the body … but who was it?
    ‘There is little time, one way or another,’ said Dumbledore. ‘So let us discuss your options, Draco.’
    ‘ My options!’ said Malfoy loudly. ‘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.’
    ‘I haven’t got any options!’ said Malfoy, and he was suddenly as white as Dumbledore. ‘I’ve got to do it! He’ll kill me! He’ll kill my whole family!’
    ‘I appreciate the difficulty of your position,’ said Dumbledore. ‘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.’
    Malfoy winced at the sound of the name.
    ‘I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legilimency against you,’ continued Dumbledore. ‘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,’ said Malfoy, his wand hand shaking very badly indeed. ‘Nobody can. He told me to do it or he’ll kill me. I’ve got no choice.’
    ‘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. 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 …’
    Malfoy stared at Dumbledore.
    ‘But I got this far, didn’t I?’ he said slowly. ‘They thought I’d die in the attempt, but I’m here … and you’re in my power … I’m the one with the wand … you’re at my mercy …’
    ‘No, Draco,’ said Dumbledore quietly. ‘It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now.’
    Malfoy did not speak. His mouth was open, his wand hand still trembling. Harry thought he saw it drop by a fraction –
    But suddenly footsteps were thundering up the stairs and a second later Malfoy was buffeted out of the way as four people in black robes burst through the door on to the ramparts. Still paralysed, his eyes staring unblinkingly, Harry gazed in terror upon four strangers: it seemed the Death Eaters had won the fight below.
    A lumpy-looking man with an odd lopsided leer gave a wheezy giggle.
    ‘Dumbledore cornered!’ he said, and he turned to a stocky little woman who looked as though she could be his sister and who was grinning eagerly. ‘Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!’
    ‘Good evening, Amycus,’ said Dumbledore calmly, as though welcoming the man to a tea party. ‘And you’ve brought Alecto too … charming …’
    The woman gave an angry little titter.
    ‘Think your little jokes’ll help you on your death bed, then?’ she jeered.
    ‘Jokes? No, no, these are manners,’ replied Dumbledore.
    ‘Do it,’ said the stranger standing nearest to Harry, a big, rangy man with matted grey hair and whiskers, whose black Death Eater’s robes looked uncomfortably tight. He had a voice like none that Harry had ever heard: a rasping bark of a voice. Harry could smell a powerful mixture of dirt, sweat and, unmistakeably, of blood coming from him. His filthy hands had long yellowish nails.
    ‘Is that you, Fenrir?’ asked Dumbledore.
    ‘That’s right,’ rasped the other. ‘Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?’
    ‘No, I cannot say that I am …’
    Fenrir Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely.
    ‘But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore.’
    ‘Am I to take it