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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…”

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