Hello all! This chapter was pretty difficult to write, mainly since I had to do a lot of research about certain things discussed in the chapter. Just as a note, I don't know if Draco knew about a certain form of magic discussed, maybe he did, but just for the sake of the story, he had no idea. Enjoy!
Chapter 20
That was the worst night's sleep that he has ever had in his life. Literally. The mat in the cell was only a few inches thick, which didn't provide much comfort at all, and the temperature had dropped to freezing. He was shivering all night because all that he had on was the prison gown, and it became a bit damp because the rain from the outside came through the window. No matter where he put the mat in the small cell, the rain still got him. People probably got sick with severe colds, or maybe froze to death, in the past with these horrid conditions.
He knew it was morning since it became only a little lighter outside. He didn't know the exact time. He guessed it was around seven or eight in the morning since one of the werewolf men had slid a meager meal of bread and sausage through a little opening in the bottom of the door. A spell was used to open that, too. He found that out when they gave him his dinner the night before—he arrived after lunch, so he wasn't given anything to eat then.
The pork sausage was cold, as was the meat patty he was given for dinner. The bread was stale as well. He was given water, but after drinking it, he chose not to do it again since it tasted like fish. He guessed the they take water directly from the sea and use some spell to take the salt out of it. How vastly different these meals are compared to the ones he usually has at home and at school. At home, he has meals fit for a prince since his family is so wealthy.
"Draco!" he heard his father hiss after finishing off the last of the stale bread. He put the thin metal plate aside and stood up and went to the little barred window. "Draco, are you awake?"
"Yes, Father, I was awake a good portion of the night. How does one manage sleeping on those things and in a place that is as cold as winter?"
"You get used to it after a while, but luckily for you, you're leaving the day after tomorrow and won't have a chance to get used to it."
The day after tomorrow at noon to be exact. Draco can't wait for that time. "Yes, agreed. Did you want to talk to me, Father?"
"Yes. Draco, I just want you to promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise me that when you get out of here, you will do exactly as the Dark Lord commanded you, understand? You may have gotten out of killing that deranged old man, but you will not be able to escape the new task given to you."
Draco felt his chest pinch, as well as a cold breeze in places where he shouldn't be feeling breezes. "I know, Father. I already promised the Dark Lord that I would do it, as much as loathe to." He bit out, feeling the anger, "I never wanted this... being a Death Eater, and being forced to kill people who don't deserve it... even people who I care about."
This is the first time that he has told his father that he never wanted to be a follower of the Dark Lord. He was always afraid to since his father would think him weak and a coward. The man said as Draco gripped the cold iron bars, "You were chosen, Draco. It should be a complement that you were chosen to be one of his followers, and be commanded to do something so grand as to rid the world of that insane old man."
"Don't call him that," Draco ordered fiercely. If the old man is capable of ending the Dark Lord, like Annabelle had said, than he has to be incredible. Well, Draco already knew that he was, but after what Annabelle told him, Hermione, Harry and Ron, he seems even more so. "He's a better wizard than anyone could ever be, including the Dark Lord."
"Hold your tongue, Draco! How dare you say such words about our master!"
He hated the word our in that sentence, but it was the horrible truth. Hopefully not for long. At this point, Draco doesn't care it the Dark Lord knew that he feels this way. "It's the truth, though. I'm not afraid to admit it. Not anymore."
"You should be, Draco! Do you know what he could do to you if he knew your thoughts?"
He heard the fear and worry in his voice. Of course Lucius wouldn't want his one and only son—his only child—to get hurt... or killed. "He already knows. At least, I think he does. I expressed my displeasure at being commanded to kill not only the girl I love, but hurt another girl who became a very good friend to me, a better friend than Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy ever were."
He heard his father let out an agitated sigh. "Another girl, Draco? My Lord... No wonder the Dark Lord is having you get rid of them. They are a massive distraction to what you have to do."
He's not wrong, but hurt pricked his chest nonetheless. "She's not human, she's a ghost. And she has helped me in ways that are unthinkable. She helped me become a better person by, in a way, forcing me to really see that what person I was before and change it. She pushed Hermione and I together as well, after telling me to protect Hermione when I didn't want to do it in the first place."
"Then why did you? Why help a mudblood? And particularly, that one?"
"Why not?"
Those two words silenced Lucius. Of course, to him, it would be unfathomable to protect mudblood, or even associate with one. Maybe Draco's change of heart will help his father see that muggle-borns are people, too, and they deserve to have a place in the wizarding world, and in the world period. The Dark Lord will never think that.
"She's incredible, Father. She's one of the best in our class—in the school, even—and she was willing to see passed the person I was before, a person shaped by the horrid things I grew up with. Honestly, I never want to be that person again..." He paused for a moment, recalling him as a child and driving his parents mad with his snotty behavior, and then when after going to Hogwarts, driving his parents mad with always getting complaint letters from his teachers and students. His Father had always reprimanded him for it. "Father... I'm sorry for the way I behaved in the past years. I knew you were strict with me because I was a ripe, arrogant git, and needed to be put in my place on several occasions."
Draco waited for a response, but the one he got wasn't from his father, but from one of the inmates. "Aww, would you listen to that sappy codswollop? What does dear old dad have to say to that, huh?"
Draco wished that the others couldn't hear his conversation with his father, but there was nothing he could do about that. "Draco..." Lucius began, "Do you really mean all that? You're not just saying that to make me agreeable to you frolicking around with a mudblood?"
That stung, but he couldn't help but to think that true, at least to some degree. "I'm serious, Father. I brought Mother to tears at times because of my behavior, and you have scolded me harshly when I didn't listen to her, you, or anyone and did what I wanted."
Again, silence, and thankfully, the other inmates were silent as well. Maybe several of them were asleep, aside from the one who spoke before. When his father hadn't said anything for a couple of minutes, Draco moved away from the door, giving up on apologizing. He about sat down on the mat when he heard his name. He went to the window again.
"Yes, Father?"
"It's all in the past. Don't worry about it anymore. Now, just try to get some sleep. It will help the time pass quickly."
He heard Lucius walk away from the window since he heard shackles. Draco let out a smirk. He knew his father well enough to know that that response was him acknowledging Draco's apology. The man is probably in shock that Draco has turned everything around, but the real trial will be trying to make him approve Draco's relationship with Hermione. That may be the hardest thing he will have to do, other than help defeat the Dark Lord.
Two days passed, and Draco waited anxiously for his cell door to open by one of those werewolf men. He knew it was getting close to noon, judging by the brightness outside, and his father, as well as the other inmates, knew it as well.
"That lucky boy!" shouted one.
"This was just detention for him, don't you remember?" asked another, the one who made a pass at Draco. "I'll be sad to see that handsome face go. Would have liked to get to know him a little more, if you know what I mean, especially if all he is wearin' is that gown."
He snickered in a disgusting and creepy fashion, and Draco's stomach turned. He can't wait to get out of the prison partly because of that man. Lucius's sudden shout made Draco jump.
"Not another perverse remark about my son, understand?! I can have the Dark Lord kill you for saying such things about one of his more favorite followers!"
That shut the man up. Draco's heart lifted when he heard a door open, and he could smell wet dog. The werewolf men had entered the cell block. Draco stood up and waited only a minute before that spell was said and his door opened.
"Out you go, boy," growled one of the werewolves, and Draco didn't waste a second in walking out of the cell. He stopped at his father's, and there Lucius was, his ragged face in the window and the small bars in front of it. "Draco, please, try to convince the Ministry to let me out of here. I didn't deserve to be sent here just as much as you hadn't. Please, Draco."
Draco knew that his father committed a crime, and it hurt him to say to his father's pleading eyes, "I don't know if that's possible, Father. Just wait out your term. It will be over soon."
He meant that in more than one way. His father's term in prison, yes, but also his term as a Death Eater. The Dark Lord will be defeated. But he has always wondered how. What spell gets rid of him?
Draco was pushed and forced to walk down the cell block. He heard his father shout, "Do what you're asked, Draco! Do what He asks of you!"
He and the two werewolf men exited the cell block and headed down the cold stone steps. He wondered what his father will think when he finds out that Draco doesn't have to kill Hermione, and that Dumbledore lives? Well, when all this is over, he will know. He wondered if Annabelle knew about Draco going to prison. Doubtful. She would have said something. Or wouldn't she... he wouldn't put it passed her. He'll have to ask her when everyone is eventually reunited. Whenever that is.
He stepped on a sharp stone and reacted. It's a blessing that he doesn't have to actually stay here like the other inmates. If he killed Dumbledore, or anybody, he would, regardless if he was forced to, and regardless of the fact that he's only sixteen. Other Death Eaters are in the prison, so why not him?
Well, it's not going to happen. And Draco's thankful. Now, mainly, he can't wait to get clean. He reeked of the prison and BO, his fair skin was splotched with dirt here and there, and he didn't want to think of what could be in his hair other than dirt and natural grease.
The three of them finally came out of the long staircase and went up to that same counter where Draco was literally stripped, first of all his clothes and then his dignity. He grimaced at the memory of it and how exposed it made him feel. Maybe he'll just obliviate his mind of those few minutes. Should he? Maybe he should remember every little experience here so he doesn't do anything that could cause him to come here again. Not that he would anymore, but still. It's best to be safe.
"Well well well, look who's back after only a few days," enthused the skinny man at the counter. "It may have only been detention, but it was a rough one, wasn't it?"
"It's not something I want to do again, no," Draco said.
Draco was pushed again, and on he went down the cold stone hallway. He heard that man say behind him, "Good luck with life, blondie!"
Draco smirked. Yes, he's going to need that with what's coming up.
The three came out into that triangular corridor again, but it wasn't the man at the desk, or that giant bringing in a new ragged prisoner that caught his eye. It was Dumbledore himself, decked out halting-blue robes, and standing there near that desk, talking with the man there. Draco had never been so happy and relieved to see his headmaster.
Dumbledore looked over and saw his student. He said as calmly as can be, "Draco, good afternoon. I trust that you had a worth-while stay here that satisfies your conscience?"
"Yes, Sir, it was more than enough."
"Very well." He indicated Draco's person with his hand. "I assume you would like to get cleaned up a tad?" Draco nodded, and Dumbledore pulled out his wand and muttered a spell that first refreshed Draco, making him feel like he had just bathed, and the next spell transformed his prison gown into his black suit ensemble, complete with a sleek black tie and shiny dress shoes. He even felt the Slytherin rink slide on his right hand index finger. He heard the man at the desk whistle.
"My my, you clean up quite nicely, lad."
Draco, more than happy to be out of that prison gown, and cleaned up, nodded, and stood tall and model-like. "Thank you."
"Yes, his special lady friend thinks the same as well," Dumbledore said, and turned to the desk man. "He is rather close and quite romantic with her. It really touched my heart to see them in such a way."
The desk man smiled slyly and pointed at Draco. His lilt came out in his accent. "Oh, good on you, lad, to have a young lass by your side. What do she think of your little trip here, huh?"
"She doesn't know," Dumbledore said. "But she will soon enough. Oh, and Draco, I assume you would like this back."
He pulled out Draco's black wand and extended it to him. Draco beamed and took it, loving the feel of it more than he ever has. He put it in his inside suit pocket. "Thank you."
"You are very welcome." He turned everyone present. "Well, I thank you for your cooperation in detaining my student and fulfilling his request. Now, we must depart." He put has arm out to Draco. "If you will take my arm, Draco."
The apparating spell. Draco took the man's arm and they zipped straight into Dumbledore's office. Draco felt his stomach roll over. Dumbledore noticed Draco's discomfort. "Yes, usually one vomits after apparating."
"That's not surprising," Draco muttered and gathered himself "Now, am I alright to head back to my common room? I hardly slept at all while I was in Azkaban."
Dumbledore walked up the steps to his desk. "Yes, you may, but first, I would like to talk to you for a few minutes about something of great importance." He looked around to the past headmasters. "If you all would, again, please leave us. That would be greatly appreciated, thank you."
The men in the portraits obliged and Dumbledore sat at his desk, and Draco wondered what Dumbledore could possibly want to talk to him about that would require the other headmasters leaving. Dumbledore asked them to leave when Draco, Hermione and the others were discussing a plan. Draco's heart pulsed in fear. Could this have to do with Hermione? Did something bad happen?
Draco stepped up to the desk and sat in that same chair he usual does, his heart racing. "What is it, Sir? Is Hermione alright? What about the rest of them? What of Annabelle?"
Dumbledore put up a hand to stop his frantic student from speaking. "They are all just fine, Draco, so no need to worry. And what I want to speak with you about does not have to do with them."
Draco eased a little. "Alright, then what?"
Dumbledore's gaze turned a little grim. "Draco, first I would like you to promise me that the following conversation will not leave this office, you understand?"
This is more serious than he thought. He sat up straight and proper, preparing himself for this conversation. "Yes, Sir. I am accustomed to keeping secrets, as you know."
"Yes. Now, I would like to ask you a question, a rather weighted one, I am afraid." He paused, seeming like he was debating whether to ask Draco this or not, or it was just for emphasis. "I want to know... have you heard of a rare form of magic called a horcrux?"
Draco brows creased. A horcrux? He has only heard his father mention it maybe once in Draco's whole lifetime, and when Draco had asked one question about it, his father dismissed it and told him to go and do something else. That made Draco think that this form of magic wasn't good... maybe dark. "Yes, I have. My father has mentioned it before a few years ago, but I do not know the nature of it, or what it is, really. I just feel that it's a dark form of magic."
Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed it is. It is one of the darkest forms of magic, along with sending persons past to eternal happiness or misery. In fact, this is worse than those, and the Three Unforgivable Curses."
Why is the man bringing this up to him? "I don't understand why you are asking me about such magic, Headmaster." A thought came to him. "Does this have to do with Annabelle's vision?"
"Indeed it does. You recall that she said Lord Voldemort will be defeated, correct?"
"Yes."
"Well, there really is only one way to defeat him, and I am doubtful that you know just how it is done." He stood up and rounded the desk and stepped down the stairs and to a cabinet with dozens of glowing vials in it. "Come, Draco."
Draco did so, curious about how the Dark Lord is to be ultimately defeated, since he was wondering that very thing, and stood next to Dumbledore and eyed the vials of what looked like long, glowing wisps, like hair. What in Merlin's name are those?
"Let me tell you a short story, Draco." Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back. "Once, about fifty years ago, there was a curious student, a boy, who was about your age. While studying in the library, he read about a certain type of magic, a type of magic that he wanted to learn more about. And like any student who wants to learn more, he went to one of his professors to learn about it. This professor was reluctant, and was a bit fearful to reveal such magic to this student, but he did nonetheless."
Draco had a good idea of who this boy was that Dumbledore was talking about. "This was the Dark Lord, wasn't it? As a boy."
"Correct. Draco, there is something I would like to show you." He gestured to the glowing vials. "Do you know what these are?"
"I don't, Sir."
"They are memories, ones that I have collected over the years, and this dish right here is called a pencieve, the way in which to view these memories. I would like for you to see a memory of this professor who the young Tom Riddle spoke to." He took a vial off of one of the shelves. "This is one of the most important memories in my possession, and it was rather difficult to retrieve. It was tampered with at first, but then, thanks to Harry Potter, the true memory was received."
Confusion showed in Draco's eyes and brows. "Harry Potter? He knows about all this?"
"Yes. I will explain after you see this. Now..." He opened the vial and pored the glowing memory into the bowl of liquid. "If you would, just place your face in the liquid and you will be able to see the memory."
Draco wasn't sure about this, but he went along with it because it had to do with the Dark Lord and how to defeat him. He bent down and put his face into the liquid, but it felt nothing like putting his face in water. Instead, he saw jumbles of smoke-like shapes that formed into what looked like a dream. He saw a few young men sitting around a table, talking about school work and such, and one particular young man stuck out, one with dark hair and an eerily calm demeanor. That is Tom Riddle, Draco was sure of it. Then the view shifted to a younger Professor Slughorn. Draco wasn't expecting that, mainly since he was in the man's class only a few days ago. The time drew near for the boys around the table to leave, but one lingered behind. He said just as Dumbledore had said, that he was reading in a book in the Restricted Section in the library about a rare form of magic called a horcrux. The ensuing conversation between professor and student made Draco's gut twist, and he released himself from seeing the memory. His pulse rose in alarm and shock as he breathed heavily and glared at Dumbledore.
"Do you understand, Draco?" he asked calmly, and Draco wondered how the man could be calm. "Do you understand what I just showed to you?"
"I really don't know what to say to this," he breathed, and he felt ill, not believing that such magic existed. "That was the young Dark Lord, asking about a form of magic that can separate pieces of his soul into random objects, and it is made by murdering another person. Other than what we already know about dark magic, I didn't know that something this dark existed." This is what his father never wanted to tell him, and for a good reason.
"Indeed this magic does exist, and Lord Voldemort took advantage of it in order to become immortal. You see, Draco, when one creates a horcrux, they are severing a portion of their soul from their body, and encase it in an object, thus making it possible for them to be immune to destruction since a part of them is elsewhere. It is the darkest magic, and the darkest spells are used to create it."
Draco gulped hard, making sense of this horrible, evil revelation about the Dark Lord and how he has survived this whole time. "This is why he hasn't been defeated... According to the memory, he wanted to make seven of them. That means that he killed seven people just so he could sever his soul into seven pieces, making him unstoppable and immortal."
"Not unless those horcruxes are destroyed. They are tied to him, and if one were to be destroyed, that is one part of him that is destroyed." He retrieved the memory from the pencieve and put it back in its place on the shelf. He walked up to his desk again. "I would like to show you something else, Draco, something that will allow what I am telling you, and why I'm telling you it, to make more sense."
Draco went up and sat in his chair again, honestly curious about all this. Given it was the darkest of magic, and made him fell ill just thinking about it, it was fascinating. And he was beginning to understand how it works. No person would want to do such a thing, other than the Dark Lord. Killing people just so he could sever his soul into seven pieces and hiding those pieces in objects is unthinkable... but Draco certainly wasn't surprised that the dark wizard did such a thing, and supposedly at a young age.
"Now," Dumbledore said and opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a black book with a massive hole in the center of it. "You don't have the foggiest clue as to what this is, do you?"
Draco eyed the book and the hole in it in confusion. "I do not. What is it?"
"This is—or was—the very first horcrux that Tom Riddle made when he was only sixteen years old, a fifth year."
Draco's eyes widened, and he gripped the arms of the chair he was in, making his knuckles white. Only a fifth year? He was right. The Dark Lord was evil from the very beginning. But to create such an object using the darkest spells, and killing a person to do it as well, when just a boy of sixteen...
"I can see the shock and fear in your features, Draco. I can assure you that this is only just a book now. The severed soul in it has been destroyed, and by none other than Harry Potter. He destroyed it in the Chamber of Secrets four years ago using the fang of the beast that caused your classmates to be petrified. You recall that?"
Does he ever. He recalls that year all too well. For one, he was scared spit-less of possibly seeing the monster and getting petrified himself, or getting killed. He heard from his father that a girl died the last time the Chamber of secrets was opened, and after connecting the dots, he later realized that she was killed by the monster. And that girl was a mudblood, which brings him to the second reason why he hates recalling that year now... that was the time he revealed that he wanted Hermione dead, and he told Harry and Ron directly without knowing it.
"It's a difficult memory, that year," Draco said. "You said Harry Potter destroyed that book? How in Merlin's name did he do that?"
Dumbledore still remained as calm as can be. "You recall what happened to Ginny Weasley that year, that she almost died." Draco nodded, hearing about that. "Harry saved her life by destroying this diary. Lord Voldemort was controlling her using it, since a part of him was contained in it. And by destroying it, it released her from Lord Voldemort's clutches. It also caused of piece of his soul to die, which means a part of him was destroyed as well."
Draco didn't know this about Harry, that he saved that girl's life, and in such a grandiose way. The guy may still be one of the people Draco may never get along with, despite Hermione wanting him to, but he was and is an impressive person. Draco wouldn't admit it out loud. Not yet.
"I suppose you are curious as to how the horcrux was destroyed, and how the rest of them can be destroyed as well," Dumbledore said.
"Yes, Sir, but wouldn't talking about this alert the Dark Lord that we are discussing how to destroy the objects that are keeping him alive?"
"He doesn't read minds like you think he does, he reads emotions and can feel yours since you are connected to him. I would advise that during the rest of this conversation, you keep your head about you, since you have been rather emotional as of late. Why do you think that he knew of your relationship with Miss Granger?"
Draco thought about that. It made sense, and Dumbledore isn't wrong—Draco has been very emotional since the situation with Hermione started up. He took a deep breath, allowing his body to release feelings of anxiousness and worry. "I understand, Sir. So, how many horcruxes have been destroyed? Other than that diary? And how are they destroyed?"
"Only one other has been destroyed." He opened the drawer up again and took out a ring that had a pyramid shape on the top of it. "This ring belonged to Marvolo Gaunt, the godfather to Tom Riddle. It was another horcrux before I myself destroyed it last July with the Sword of Gryffindor. You see, Draco, the sword was impregnated with basilisk venom, the same substance that allowed Harry to destroy the diary."
"How was the venom absorbed by the sword?"
"Harry fought the beast in the Chamber of Secrets, and succeeded in killing it by running the sword through its brain. That is how the venom was absorbed."
Draco's mouth opened slightly in surprise. Harry killed that giant monster on his own, as well as saved Ginny Weasley from the clutches of the Dark Lord? As a second year? Unbelievable! How could Draco be so blind as to no notice how truly incredible Harry is? And brave? Well, the only obvious reason is because Draco was always jealous that Harry was the "Chosen One" and refused his friendship at the beginning of their first year. Harry seems like a decent person to be around, if he's destroyed a powerful horcrux and killed a giant monster who killed people by just them looking at it.
"I can see your shock, Draco," Dumbledore commented.
"I just... had no idea how much Harry has been through, and what he's done."
"Yes, he really is a very courageous and impressive person. As I have said before, he has helped me retrieve that memory from Professor Slughorn, and was doing so for most of the school year so far. I was planning on having him accompany me in retrieving another horcrux that I have found. Or, that I think that I have found. But I will be retrieving that one myself since Harry is in hiding at the moment."
"You have found another one?" asked Draco, interested and surprised, and dismissing Dumbledore saying Harry was going to go along with him.
"Indeed. And this is the reason why I asked to speak with you right now, Draco, after you returned from your detention in Azkaban." He leaned in, keeping Draco's gaze, building the anticipation. "I believe that there is another horcrux hidden here in the school, and I would like you to find this horcrux and destroy it."
Draco's hands started to go numb in disbelief and shock of receiving this new task, a task that Annabelle spoke nothing about when she told him and the others about her vision. She only said that Hermione and her friends would go into hiding, and he would stay behind at Hogwarts under the watchful eye of Dumbledore. Maybe this is what she meant... going to Azkaban and being asked this new task. It is all rolled into one. She never really did make it clear of exactly what he would be doing, they all just know that it all leads to Dumbledore finishing the Dark Lord.
"You... want me to find another piece of the Dark Lord's soul and destroy it? A piece that is hidden here in the school, among all the students?"
"Yes. This object once belonged to a Ravenclaw, a Ravenclaw who is the cousin of Annabelle Ravenclaw. I know for a fact now that you are rather close with the Ravenclaws, so this is why I'm asking you do to this."
Draco pushed his brows together, needing only a second to respond, "Rowena Ravenclaw? This horcrux you're speaking of once once belonged to her?"
"Indeed. The story is, Rowena's daughter Helena, who most in this school know as the Gray Lady, or the Ghost of Ravenclaw House, was quite envious of her mother, and stole this precious item from her before her mother's death, hoping to become wiser due to the rumored charms placed on it."
Rowena had a daughter?! Annabelle never mentioned that! She would be around Annabelle's age when they were still living. Maybe there was bad blood between them since Helena disliked her mother? "What is the item, Sir?"
"A diadem. Or, in other words, a..."
"Crown," Draco finished. "A headpiece. That makes sense since it was supposedly charmed to make one wiser."
"You are correct. Good job in knowing."
Draco only nodded at the complement. He only knew because his mother owns one and he asked what it was when he was a boy. "How do you know that the diadem is a horcrux?"
Dumbledore leaned back in his seat and placed his hands in his lap. "Well, Helena recently confided in a Ravenclaw student her laments of this diadem. It was very beloved, but then a boy came along, claiming he wanted to destroy it, so he was told where to find it."
Draco knew where this story was going. "But he didn't destroy it. He made it a horcrux."
"Yes. I want you to talk with Rowena, or Helena, and ask about the diadem. I do not know its exact location, since this student said Helena never told her of it because of its dark nature. It would actually be wise to go to this student first and see if she can tell you more details than I can remember, and then go to Rowena or Helena for more answers. Helena would be the best to go to since she was the last person before Tom Riddle to see the diadem."
The weight of this task was starting to weigh Draco down a little, and make his head spin with all this new information, but it wasn't a negative feeling. It was a more one that made him curious about this horcrux. "Who is the student?"
"One that I doubt that you have associated with before—Luna Lovegood. She came to me after Helena told her her story, thinking that I should know. Now, when you speak to her, tell her that I have sent you on this errand. I shall write you a note as proof of it, but I doubt that Miss Lovegood will need much convincing. She is very trusting. She even vowed not to say a word about what Helena told her."
Draco wasn't too thrilled about needing to go to the looniest girl at Hogwarts—at least, that is what people call her, and he has as well back when he was a git. He's seen her skip to classes and dance around the main courtyard carelessly, and wear funny spectacles around. He had to admit, though, she seemed harmless.
"Will you be able to accomplish this, Draco?"
Draco met his headmaster's gray-blue eyes, his gaze firm and serious. This task is nothing like the one given to him to kill other people, it is more to save people, and save the wizarding world from further destruction by the Dark Lord. It is a task that leads to his ultimate demise, and Draco loves the idea of not having that dark wizard constantly breathing down his neck. Draco would also love not to be fearful of him anymore.
"Yes," Draco answered assuredly, and sitting up straight and dignified in his chair. "I will do as you ask, Headmaster."
Dumbledore smirked. "Very good, thank you, Draco. And if I were you, I would start this new task by first sleeping for many hours, preferably under a sleeping charm, so you can regain your strength. Then, as soon as you can, and when your school schedule allows, go down to the Chamber of Secrets to retrieve a fang from the skeleton of the Basilisk that is still down there. Have that on you when you find the diadem and destroy it immediately. I would say come to me so it can be destroyed with the Sword of Gryffindor, but we want this done as soon as possible."
Go down into the Chamber of Secrets where Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were almost killed be the Dark Lord and that monster? "Yes, Sir."
"Very well." He pulled out a feather and ink, as well as a piece of parchment. He tore it in half, wrote for a minute on one, then for a few seconds on the other. He handed both pieces to Draco, and Draco read the note telling Luna to tell Draco everything she knows without being fearful of the consequences since Draco is aiding Dumbledore in a grand task. The second piece of parchment had words that were not in English, and had several s's in them.
"What is this second one?" Draco held it up.
"That is something Harry told me in Parseltongue, or commonly known as 'snake language.' It is to be said at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets."
Draco's heart jumped up to his throat when Dumbledore said "Parseltongue." He is going to be using the same language that the Dark Lord uses to speak to his anaconda Nagini?! Draco hates the language, and feels chills whenever it is said. But if it's only a few words that needs to be said in order accomplish this...
"Alright," was all Draco could say.
"Very good. Now, off to get something to eat since it is mid-lunch hour at the moment, and then sleep after that. I would recommend a sleeping charms that lasts sixteen hours. I can tell that you are quite fatigued from your stay in Azkaban. I guess that you didn't get much sleep there."
Draco didn't like that he still looked a big ragged, given the spells Dumbledore performed on him at the prison. He probably had massive dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. "Hardly any, Sir." He stuffed the parchment papers inside a pocket in his suite jacket. He let out a massive breath through his nose in exasperation. "I have to say, I am more fond of this task than the one I was given by the Dark Lord. And I will keep a level head, as to not alert the Dark Lord of any of this."
"That is wise. Now off you go. I would like to see you once you have accomplished what I have asked of you. And Draco..." His gaze turned very serious. "I would remind you to tell no one of this task, aside from the persons I have mentioned, and take it as seriously as you would the task given to you by Lord Voldemort, understood?"
"Yes, Sir."
Draco stood and went on out of the office. He went straight to his common room since he was not hungry for lunch. He wanted to get that sleep that Dumbledore requested that he get, which Draco dreadfully needs since his limbs were weakening from lack of sleep, and his mind needed the rest as well. He wants to get started on this task as soon as possible, a task that will aid in the ultimate demise of the Dark Lord.