Draco's face was pale, his knuckles white as he clutched his wand, trembling with barely concealed fear. "It's time," he said, his voice raw with a desperation Eleanor had never heard before. "I need you to stay in the common room."

Her chest tightened, eyes glistening with unshed tears. The Vanishing Cabinet—mended only three days ago—had sealed their fate. This was it. "You expect me to just sit here while my life is on the line?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "While you're murdering the headmaster?"

"Yes," Draco hissed, his anger flaring as fear and frustration gnawed at him. "You will be safe. I promise. I can do this."

Eleanor rose from her seat, her disbelief evident. "You don't sound too confident—"

"I can do this!" he shouted, startling her and a few students sitting nearby. His outburst echoed in the Slytherin common room, his panic breaking through the thin veneer of control he had been trying to maintain. The room fell silent as his chest heaved with short breaths. Then, as if realizing he had cracked, Draco exhaled shakily, grabbing her arm, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I can do this," he repeated, quieter this time, as though saying it softly would make it true.

Eleanor stared at him, her brows knitting in concern. She could see the doubt in his eyes, the fear beneath the bravado. He was breaking under the pressure, and his grip on her arm was so tight it stung. "Draco, you're hurting me," she said softly, wincing under the pressure.

Draco immediately dropped his hand, guilt flashing across his face. "I'm sorry," he muttered, pulling her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. She could feel his heartbeat pounding erratically against her chest. "I love you," he whispered into her hair, his voice cracking slightly. "Please, just stay here. Please."

"I love you too," she whispered back, her fingers curling into his blazer, wishing she could believe that everything would be okay.

Draco pulled away just enough to look into her eyes, his own filled with urgency. "Promise me you'll stay here," he pleaded, his voice almost breaking. "Promise me."

Eleanor hesitated, her throat tight. She could hear the desperation in his voice, the weight of his burden hanging between them. "I promise," she said, though even as the words left her lips, she wasn't sure she meant them.

Draco nodded, as if convincing himself that her promise was enough, that it would keep her safe. He gave her one last kiss, soft but hurried, then turned and disappeared through the entrance, leaving Eleanor standing alone, the weight of her words heavy on her chest.

Ten minutes passed. Ten long, agonizing minutes.

Eleanor sat rigid on the sofa, her fingers clenched tightly in her lap. Her mind raced as the seconds ticked by, each one a hammering reminder of the chaos outside these walls, of what was at stake. Draco had asked her to stay—begged her. She had promised. But a nagging thought tugged at her, growing louder with each passing minute: You're in danger too. Your life is on the line. Are you really going to just sit here?

Her breaths came in shallow waves, her pulse quickening. The image of Draco, trembling with fear, haunted her. He wasn't as confident as he wanted her to believe. What if he failed? What if something went wrong?

She bit her lip, her foot tapping anxiously against the stone floor. Her promise echoed in her mind, but it felt flimsy now, like paper in the rain. Her survival was hanging in the balance—her survival. How could she stay behind, helpless, while the very people who wanted her dead moved closer and closer?

Finally, she stood, her decision made. She couldn't just sit here, waiting for a death sentence. Draco might be trying to protect her, but she wasn't about to be a damsel in distress. She would survive.

With one last glance around the common room, Eleanor hurried to the exit. Her heart pounded in her chest as she pushed open the door, slipping out into the dimly lit corridors. The castle felt eerie tonight, quieter than usual, but thick with tension. Every step she took felt like walking into the unknown, but she knew she couldn't turn back now.

Her mind raced as she made her way toward the Astronomy Tower, the fear she'd been suppressing bubbling just beneath the surface. Yet, her need to survive fueled her steps, pushing her forward. If this was the night everything changed, she was determined to have a hand in it. She wouldn't let her fate be decided without her.

She would fight for her life, for Draco, for everything that mattered.

As Eleanor ascended the spiraling staircase of the Astronomy Tower, her pulse quickened, each step reverberating through her body. She could hear voices now-Draco's voice, tense and desperate.

"I don't want your help!" Draco's voice cracked, laced with fear. "Don't you see, I have to do this! I have to."

Eleanor's chest tightened as his words echoed in her ears. She quickened her pace, determination propelling her forward until a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist, pulling her to a stop. She gasped, spinning around to face her captor.

"Harry?" she whispered, her eyes wide with shock. His hand still gripped hers, his expression urgent as he pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for her to stay silent.

"Let go of me," she hissed. "You don't understand."

Before Harry could respond, another voice rose from the top of the tower. Draco's voice, softer now, yet strained with anguish.

"I've got to kill you... or he'll kill her," Draco said, his words barely audible but filled with dread.

Harry's eyes widened in sudden realization, a knot forming in his stomach. The truth crashed over him like a wave. If Dumbledore didn't die tonight, Eleanor would. It wasn't just about Draco anymore-it was about her survival.

"Let. Go. Of. Me," Eleanor repeated, her voice cold and firm. Harry's grip loosened, and he reluctantly released her wrist, the weight of the situation sinking in.

"You'd do well to stay out of this, Harry," she whispered, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and determination. There was no room for hesitation, not tonight. She turned, leaving him behind as she continued up the staircase, the voices above growing clearer with each step.

Draco's voice echoed in her ears, blending with the hurried footsteps of others. She pressed herself against the cold stone wall, heart hammering in her chest, as a group of Death Eaters rushed past her, oblivious to her presence. She held her breath, her wand clutched tightly in her hand.

"Cornered in his own castle. Well done, Draco," Bellatrix Lestrange's shrill voice rang out, dripping with malice.

Eleanor's blood ran cold, but the adrenaline pumping through her veins kept her moving.
She crept closer, her wand steady, each step calculated.

"Do it," Bellatrix urged, her voice sharp and commanding.

Eleanor crouched at the base of the staircase, her eyes narrowing as she caught sight of the scene above her. Draco stood frozen, his wand shaking in his hand, staring down at the frail figure of Albus Dumbledore. Surrounding him were Bellatrix, Fenrir Greyback, and a host of other Death Eaters, their dark figures looming ominously in the dim light.

"He doesn't have the stomach for it," Greyback sneered, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Just like his father. Let me finish him. In my own way."

"No!" Bellatrix snapped, her voice sharp.

"The Dark Lord was clear. The boy is to do it. Now, Draco! Finish him!"

From the corner of her eye, Eleanor saw Harry creeping up the stairs behind her, his wand outstretched, face pale with tension.

Before she could react, Professor Snape appeared, slipping silently beside them, his face as unreadable as ever. He gave them both a sharp look, silently ordering them to remain hidden.
But Eleanor's patience had run thin. Her hands trembled, not from fear but from the seething anger that coursed through her.

She was done being told to stay put, done being a bystander while her life hung in the balance. She couldn't wait any longer.

"Severus," Dumbledore's weak voice cut through the tension. "Please.."

Eleanor's rage boiled over. Why hadn't Draco acted yet? Why hadn't Dumbledore fallen? Every second felt like an eternity, and with each heartbeat, her fear turned into something darker-something uncontrollable.

Without thinking, she stepped forward, her footsteps loud and deliberate on the stone.
The Death Eaters spun around, startled by her sudden appearance. Draco's eyes widened in shock as she emerged from the shadows, her wand gripped tightly in her hand, her eyes locked on Dumbledore's.

The headmaster met her gaze, his expression calm yet filled with something she couldn't quite place. Resignation, perhaps. Or understanding. As if he had always known this moment was coming.

"Miss Weasley-" Dumbledore began, but he didn't get to finish.

"Avada Kedavra!" Eleanor screamed, her voice raw with fury as she pointed her wand directly at Dumbledore.

A jet of green light shot from the tip of her wand, hitting Dumbledore square in the chest. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to stand still. His body stiffened, his eyes losing their light as he slowly tipped backward. Then, with a sickening finality, Albus Dumbledore fell, disappearing into the darkness below the tower.

The night swallowed him whole.

For a moment, there was silence-absolute, suffocating silence.

Then Bellatrix's cackle broke through the stillness, wild and gleeful. "Oh, well done, little Weasley!" she shrieked, her voice filled with manic delight. "She did it! She did it!"

But Eleanor couldn't hear her. The rush of blood in her ears drowned out everything.

Her heart pounded, her breath came in ragged gasps. She had done it. Dumbledore was dead. And for the first time in her life, she felt the crushing weight of what that truly meant.

Draco stood frozen, his face ashen, staring at Eleanor in disbelief. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Not like this. Not by her hand.

But there was no turning back now. The deed was done.