Boundless

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝 (𝟑𝟖)

Mattheo

The night air was sharp as a blade, cutting through the silence of Hogwarts as Draco and I made our way through the castle. Every step echoed too loudly, each breath too heavy, weighted with the knowledge of what we were about to do.

The signal had been given.

Bellatrix and three other Death Eaters had forced their way into the school, slipping through the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement. It had taken months of planning, endless failures, and nights spent watching Draco crumble under the pressure. But now, the moment was here.

We were going to kill Albus Dumbledore.

Draco was pale beside me, his wand clenched so tightly in his hand that his knuckles had turned white. He hadn't said a word since we left the common room, his breathing shallow, eyes darting toward every shadow.

I could feel the war waging inside him.

His father's orders. The Dark Lord's expectations. The impossible weight of it all.

But more than anything, I could feel his fear.

Draco was never supposed to be a killer.

But me? I was different.

"Steady your hands," I muttered as we ascended the final staircase toward the Astronomy Tower.

He swallowed hard. "Mattheo—"

"Don't." I cut him off, my voice sharp but not unkind. "It's too late for second thoughts."

He said nothing after that, just kept walking, his pace slowing as we neared the top.

And then we heard it.

Voices.

Low, calm, and familiar.

Dumbledore was here.

We stopped just outside the door to the tower, barely concealed by the shadows of the stone archway. Through the gap, I could see him—tall and unmoving, standing at the edge of the tower with his back to us, his robes billowing slightly in the wind.

He wasn't alone.

Snape stood just a few feet away, his expression unreadable, dark eyes fixed on Dumbledore. His fingers twitched slightly at his side, as if he already knew what was coming.

Dumbledore, however, showed no sign of fear.

He knew.

He had been waiting for us.

My grip tightened around my wand. My heart pounded like a drum against my ribs, but I pushed the sound away, focused only on the moment ahead.

Then, from behind us, the heavy clang of metal doors bursting open.

Bellatrix had arrived.

Her laughter sliced through the quiet like a blade, wild and gleeful, followed by the heavy footsteps of the Death Eaters behind her.

"My, my," she cooed, stepping into the moonlight, eyes gleaming with manic delight. "What a wonderful night for a bit of bloodshed."

Dumbledore turned at the sound of her voice, his expression unreadable as he took in the scene before him. He did not look surprised. He barely even reacted.

"Bellatrix," he said, his voice steady, unshaken. "I see the Dark Lord has sent his most devoted."

Her lips curled into a grin. "And I see you are as infuriatingly calm as ever." She tilted her head, studying him. "Pity. I expected more fear."