Chaser 2 of Magpies;
Prompt: Albus Dumbledore, Astronomy Tower, Acromantula, Asparagus
Optional Prompts: (colour) blue; (sound) gasp; (time) night
Disclaimer: HP belongs to me not
Word count: 1000+ as stated by Google docs.
A/N: All I've wanted to do since I got my prompt was to write Dumbles trying to feed an Acromantula with some asparagus in the tower. That was the plan. The rest of the plot just appeared one day.
Draco wakes up staring at a familiar-looking circular ceiling.
Nothing seems unusual at first, but something tells him it shouldn't be as bright as it is at this time of day—or is it night? Warily, he sits up and takes a look around him, feeling his blood slowly freezing in his veins as he realises where he is—and exactly whose presence he's in.
He is back in the Astronomy Tower and Albus Dumbledore is standing in front of him.
Albus Dumbledore, his former headmaster—the person who he tried (and failed) to kill, only to watch him fall to his death—is standing in front of him.
He stumbles back, shock and fear wedging the two of them further apart, as the older wizard smiles at him, serenely, with his twinkling eyes and grandfatherly smile.
'This can't be real,' is the first thought that crosses his mind. 'It just can't be real; Dumbledore is dead!'
And yet, the Headmaster sits there, watching his panicking form on the ground.
Draco slowly gets to his feet, without breaking eye contact, half-afraid his companion will vanish into thin air if he makes a sudden move.
"Dumbledore?" he asks, uncertain.
"Good evening, Mr Malfoy," the elder of the two replies. It's almost disconcerting the way he stands there, relaxed, not at all threatened by his would-be murderer. Then again, he never did believe Draco would be able to kill him. He, at least, got that part right.
"How—how are you here? How am I here? None of this should be possible!"
It feels as though the panic is rising up in Draco's stomach with every second he stands there, under scrutiny from those twinkling eyes and the stars above. Dumbledore was dead, and even the tower itself was greatly damaged during the final battle and was still being repaired.
None of this is normal.
"How indeed? But is that really what you want to know, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asks, raising an eyebrow in a Snape-like manner.
"Ye—" Draco starts, but he stops as he pauses to take in their surroundings.
They are indeed at what appears to be the Astronomy Tower—appears being the keyword.
For one thing, the door that leads to the staircase—and as far away from this nightmare as possible—is missing. The balcony, on the other hand, appears to be there but is surrounded by an unfriendly-looking fog.
He is unsure how fog can look unfriendly, but he doesn't plan to find out why as his survival instinct tells him that it would be wise to stay as far away from it as he possibly can.
There are other minor details that seem out of place—the room is bright even though the torches aren't lit, the walls are covered in vines, making it look old and abandoned, and so on.
Some of the tension leaves his shoulders, realising none of this is real.
"This is a dream," he says confidently.
"In a way, it is," Dumbledore replies. "Now, why don't you take a seat and we can have a little chat?"
Draco tells himself he shouldn't be surprised when a chair simply materialises behind him (because dream logic), but he is surprised nonetheless.
He stares at it for a moment or two before Dumbledore's, "It won't bite," prompts him to sit down.
It is a comfy blue chair, as opposed to the Slytherin green or Gryffindor red he would have expected it to be, and he allows himself to sink into it slightly—an attempt to relax.
Dumbledore clasps his hands in front of him, an amiable smile on his face. "Now, what was it that you needed so badly you dragged this old man back into the living for? Or as close to it as I can be at the moment."
"Dragged you here? You are the one that brought me here. I don't even know how I'd go about trying to bring you back—to bring you here. It couldn't have been me—could it?" he asks, uncertain.
"Mr Malfoy—Draco—I assure you, you were the one that summoned me, albeit subconsciously. You always were a troubled boy, what with everything that has happened in your life so far, but a determined one as well. Ambitious, really."
Draco can't help but feel a bit proud when the Headmaster compliments him, even if a part of his old self feels like sneering at the comment.
"It looks like you're faced with 'a tough decision that could potentially determine the rest of your life'," Dumbledore says, sounding too amused for Draco's liking. "Is that what you're thinking? And relax, I am not using Legilimency; you merely remind me of myself when I was your age—though our circumstances differ greatly."
"Professor—sorry, Headmistress McGonagall offered me a teaching post and I am unsure of whether or not I should accept it. A part of me fiercely wishes to owl her as soon as possible and tell her 'yes', but another part…" He trails off, feeling like he has already said too much.
"You can tell me—it's not as if I'm going to be able to tell anyone any time soon, is it?" the Headmaster says with a wink.
The former Slytherin takes a deep breath to summon up all the courage he has and then continues where he left off. "I guess I'm a bit… uncertain of the reaction my would-be students and coworkers will have if I decide to accept the offer.
The Malfoys have always been—and shall remain—a strong and wealthy wizarding family and that is one of the reasons we were given the leniency of freedom, but that doesn't mean people have forgiven or forgotten what happened before."
He pauses and smiles sardonically before continuing. "No one says anything to my face—not more than usual, that is—but you can see it in their eyes. I can only imagine what the parents would say if an ex-Death Eater were to become a teacher to a new, naive generation of wizards and witches."
Sadly, it is only too easy to imagine exactly that happening; he would take her up on her offer, the Board of Governors would say nothing because of his family name, and the school term would start. He would be there at the Great Feast, and all would seem well, but then he would be asked to leave a few days later after the majority of the parents received the letters from their children that an ex-Death Eater was now their Astronomy professor.
He wouldn't be asked to come back.
When he turns his thoughts back to the present, Draco is met with the most unusual sight of the former Headmaster trying to feed a small—for its species—Acromantula with some asparagus. He remembers from his school days that the creature is carnivorous, and he is quite sure the Headmaster is fully aware of the fact as well, but that knowledge doesn't seem to be stopping him from trying.
'At least some things will always stay the same,' he thinks while a small smile appears on his face.
"I suppose it is quite possible that is exactly what will happen, but I believe you are being too pessimistic. I agree it may very well start that way, but I'm sure it will change with time."
"But what it if doesn't?" Draco mutters and lowers his eyes.
"You will never know if you don't try, will you?" Dumbledore answers in a kind voice.
Draco looks up, and his eyes widen as he realises that the small Acromantula is munching on the piece of asparagus Dumbledore gave him. He turns and looks at Dumbledore in wonder.
"I see you're wondering how this happened. You could blame it on us being in a dream, but in reality, it is simpler. I just added some meat-flavoured sauce to it," Dumbledore said. "Think on it, Draco; even an carnivorous Acromantula can change if one goes about it the right way. I see no reason why you becoming a teacher can't be the same."
Later, he would admit to himself that it was those words that helped him make the decision, even though, at the moment, he is too busy trying to process an Acromantula eating vegetables.
He shakes his head to dispel the thought and is about to say something back when he realises that the walls around them are getting progressively more and more blurred.
"Ah, this is where I leave you, I'm afraid. I'm glad we had this little chat of ours, Draco, and good luck with the job. I'll be cheering for you."
The last thing he sees before it all becomes black is the image of the Headmaster holding one of the legs of the Acromantula and waving at him with it.
Draco wakes up with a gasp, feeling like he's played the most intense game of Quidditch in his life. A thin layer of sweat has collected on his neck, and his heart is beating rapidly.
He tries to calm his breathing as he looks around his room. It is still dark outside, except for the pale light of the moon, which illuminates his room just enough for him to see.
Reaching over for his wand, he casts a Temporal Charm to check the time. 3:30am. He looks at time, and seeing that it is still early, decides to go back to sleep. A soft grin adorns his face as he falls into a deep sleep. His last thought before he loses consciousness is, 'Perhaps there's hope still.'