AN: Hey Everyone! I know it's been a while since I've updated, but I have a reason for the delay. I had posted an author's note for a day, before deleting it, so not many of you may know my reasoning. Here's the deal. From now on, it would be wise to look in my profile, because I have begun adding update notes to it, as well as progress notes on the stories I am working on. I may add things I plan to work on in the future, too, but I'm not sure yet. Everything has been a little hectic for me lately, but I'm trying to do my best and finish this story. There is going to be a sequel and come hell or high water, I plan to finish it, as well as RC. It may take me some time, but bear with me guys. The reviews have really helped to boost my confidence a bit, so I'm grateful for all you faithful readers.
And without further ado!
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Chapter 25: An Overdue Chat, A Day Full of Surprises and Talks with Dumbledore
Draco wondered if fate was fucking with them. The day had started out so wonderfully. He awoke from a sound sleep in a very good mood, ready for the game that day. He had felt so happy and full of energy, ready to have one hell of a match since he had known Harry wouldn't hold back just because they were seeing each. The game would prove to be interesting. And it had been. Every time the Snitch was in sight they would both put their all into being the first to get it. The game had gone well up until the last chase for the Snitch. Harry had caught it, yes, and that had pissed Draco off a bit, but it was all soon forgotten.
And then the Dementors came.
Like birds of prey, they came sweeping onto the pitch en masse. Draco had known from the look Harry gave him that the Gryffindor was going to try and help. His first thought was, Stupid Potter! but his second was, irrationally, I wish I could help. He didn't know where it had come from, but he also knew he couldn't help, because that would put him under scrutiny with his housemates, who could easily report it back to his mother. The woman was just as dangerous as his father, and didn't want to deal with her wrath.
So, he had watched as Harry flew around the sky performing crazy stunts as he dodged the Dementors and set the occasional Patronus to ward off the creatures. He watched as Harry determinedly got rid of the Dementors chasing him, pulling moves on his broom that he'd never done during Quidditch. Draco had been sure Harry hadn't even realized it he had watched as Harry and some of the Gryffindor team did away with the trolls that had been keen on wreaking havoc, and then he had watched as Harry fell those few feet from his broom, clutching his head. Draco had stood with the other Slytherins, back away from the drama, but still within hearing range, watching the commotion. The brief glimpses he had caught of Harry had shown him looking pale with blood trickling down his forehead. It had worried him, but the worry had been quickly overridden with shock and fear and a myriad of other emotions with the words that had come form Arthur Weasley's mouth.
The prisoners of Azkaban had been freed. His father had been freed. Draco had heard it clearly.
The pitch had been cleared soon after that. Harry had been unconscious and the nurse had been levitating him towards the castle. The match had been won by Gryffindor, as they had found the Snitch in his pocket when someone – Draco didn't know or care who – stated they'd seen Harry catch it. And, for once, Draco didn't care about the match. Harry could have died – smashed by a troll, had his soul sucked out by a Dementor, or fallen off his broom. Was that less important compared to who had won? No, it wasn't.
Draco had gone back to the common room with his housemates, who were either sulking because they lost yet another match to Gryffindor, or gloating because the prisoner had been freed and their parents might have been among them. Draco had joined the gloating, boasting about how his father and the Dark Lord would get Potter. He had felt sick with himself as he donned the mask and paraded around, declaring all sorts of things about his father and the Dark Lord. He also felt disgusted with his housemates. Did they even know what their parents really did in the name Lord Voldemort? What they, themselves, would be expected to do? They had no clue, and yet, they sat there and declared their eagerness in that subtle way about joining the Death Eaters. It was all sick and Draco couldn't believe he'd never realized what he, himself, had been on the path to becoming. But not now, Draco wasn't going to becoming some mindless follower bowing to a man who would order him to rape and kill in his name.
Stating the need to write to his mother – luckily others were writing home also – Draco was only too happy to leave the idiots that were the majority of his housemates. He was aware that some were quieter about the whole thing, and as he had watched them, he took in all the little details he could. Some of the ones who were quieter were friends of his, some weren't, but Draco would store all that away for later thought. He was pretty sure not all of his housemates wanted to become Death Eaters, but being in Slytherin they all learned at young ages to protect themselves always, even from 'friends.' it was a safety measure.
After leaving the common room, Draco walked through the dungeons to get to his godfather's quarters. He had to talk to the man. It time he did so and stopped putting it off. Over the last two weeks Draco had watched Severus carefully, not exactly spying, but trying to learn some things. He hadn't really discovered anything circumstantial to help him though. There had been small things, things that could have meant nothing, or they could have meant something. For one, Severus very rarely, if ever, mentioned the Dark Lord around Draco. Draco had thought on all their conversations and couldn't remember the man actually talking about the Dark Lord, and he, himself, never brought it up in front of the man.
With his father being a very avid supporter, as well as his mother, Draco thought – with Severus being a follower as well, though it was never really discussed – that the man would bring it up at least once or twice, especially since Lucius had been adamant about Draco joining the Death Eaters. Draco still had to figure a way out of that.
Reaching the door, Draco knocked quickly after taking a glance around. When no answer came after almost a minute, Draco was about to turn and leave when the door opened abruptly. Severus blinked, looking uncharacteristically startled for a moment, before ushering him in. Draco flopped ungracefully into one of the chairs by the lit fireplace and rubbed a hand over his face. Then, he growled, stood, and began to pace.
Severus stared at his godson for a long moment, carefully weighing what the boy could be there for, before walking towards a cabinet in the corner. He opened it and retrieved two shot glasses, as well as a bottle of brandy. He had needed something strong himself and he had a feeling Draco needed something stronger than Butterbeer too. Bottle and glasses in hand, Severus took the other armchair before the fireplace and set the items on the table. "Sit," he commanded to the still pacing blond. Draco looked at him a moment, gave an explosive sigh, and sat. Severus poured the alcohol into each glass and took up his own, tipping his head at the other and giving Draco a pointed look.
Draco took up the glass without hesitation and knocked it back. It burned all the way down and warmed him inside. It helped take the edge off the panic he had begun to feel.
"Now, why don't you calmly tell me what is wrong?" Severus asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.
Draco took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts. They were so scattered, he felt like they were unsolvable puzzle pieces. Harry, his father, trolls, Dementors, his mother, Death Eaters, the Dark Lord, Severus, initiation, mission; they were just all over the place. He took another deep breath and rolled the empty glass between his palms.
"I need you to swear a wizard's oath, not to tell anyone without my expressed permission what I'm about to tell you," Draco said lowly, grey eyes fixed steadily of black.
Severus's eyebrows shot up at the request, and he stared intently at his godson. "Draco, when have I ever betrayed your confidence in me? A wizard's oath? Do you think me one of those gossip mongers, the likes of Rita Skeeter?" Severus was not overly offended by the request, really. He realized that whatever Draco had to say was obviously worthy of an oath, and it made him curious.
Draco shook his head and flexed his fingers around the glass. "It's not that I don't trust you, Severus, it's just that…I'm looking after myself. Trust me on this Severus."
Severus looked at Draco for a long moment, silent and unmoving. He had a vague idea what this conversation concerned and thought maybe he would find the answers he'd been looking for himself. Nodding his head, Severus agreed to the wizard's oath. Once they had done that and gotten through the sealing of the oath, he looked to Draco expectantly, waiting for the boy to speak.
Draco breathed out through his nose slowly, put the glass on the table, and looked back at his godfather. "I'm extremely unsettled that my father is out of Azkaban. I hate the man, you know that much. After everything that he did to me when all I wanted to do was make him proud, I can't help but to hate him. And now he's out of prison! This is bad, very bad. If Lucius is out, then I'm sure to get the Dark Mark this summer," Draco paused and looked at Severus steadily. Severus looked back.
"You do not wish to join the Dark Lord?" Severus asked neutrally, not giving anything of his thoughts away.
Draco looked at him carefully, before deciding to continue. "No, I don't," Draco said firmly. "After fourth year, when the Dark Lord returned, my father was different. Not obviously so, but there was a definite change." He took another deep breath, and then proceeded to tell Severus about his summer that year. The pensieve incidents, the beatings that had progressed into occasional Crucuio's when Lucius was especially angry, his thoughts on what he viewed in the pensieve and so forth. He let it all spill out, feeling a weight lifted off him. He also told Severus about his desire not to become a Death Eater.
Severus listened as Draco described what he saw and felt sick that someone so young had to witness such atrocities. He vaguely thought that Potter, too, had to witness such things, but he brushed it away. He couldn't believe Lucius! And then the man used Crucio on his own son. Severus felt outraged at the man's behavior.
"I'm sure that my mother and father will force me if I don't agree to join willingly," Draco said, now pacing again. "But now I'm positive it will be this summer that they will want me to join."
Severus felt something in him clench at these words. "How do you figure that, Draco?"
Draco looked at Severus intensely for a moment, then; he said quietly, "I was given a mission during the break. I was to spy on you and discover where your loyalties lie," Draco said quietly, not looking away from black eyes.
Severus was shocked, but overly so. He had thought Draco was off a bit when he had come back, but this wasn't in any of his theories of what could have happened to the boy.
Draco was silent, just waiting for Severus to speak. He stood, tense and unbalanced, waiting and watching. It felt like ages before Severus finally said something. "Why would you trust me, if you knew I was in the Dark Lord's service?" the man asked with one eyebrow quirked.
"Because from what I've been able to find out, it doesn't seem like you're on his side. It's little, inconsequential things, but I'm pretty sure you're not," Draco said firmly, challengingly, which was only half the truth. He needed Severus to not be on his side. Severus stared at him expressionlessly for long moments, but Draco stood his ground, not squirming under the scrutiny.
Severus was sure Draco was serious and being truthful, and this gave him hope. Hope for Draco not to go down the same path he, himself, had. He could use Legilimency, but he knew was quite adequate at blocking it. But Severus believed Draco and that made relief wash through him to know that Draco was against being a Death Eater. Severus would do everything in his power to make sure it didn't happen.
"Draco," Severus said finally, looking at the too tense teen. Draco looked back and Severus could see the barest hint of anxiety in his eyes. "Come, sit down." Severus watched as Draco hesitated for a moment, before reclaiming hi seat. He poured them both another shot of brandy and pushed Draco's glass toward the boy. Draco picked it up, and Severus saw his hand shaking a bit. Draco quickly clutched the glass in both hands, and downed the alcohol, sitting the glass back on the table. He put his hands together and stuck them between his knees. Severus said nothing of it.
"I will help you, Draco. I need you to trust me, though, this is very important. You will meet me after dinner in the Entrance Hall once all the other students have departed. Make sure of this. Do you understand?" Severus asked firmly.
Draco nodded, relieved in some ways and even more anxious in others. "I do trust you, Severus. This wasn't easy for me, you know. It still isn't," he said softly. An image of his father passed through his mind, and he felt himself cringing. He could just imagine the torture Lucius would put him through when he found Draco's loyalty wasn't to the Dark Lord. The thought made him shiver.
"I know it's not easy," Severus said, because he did know that choosing between what you were taught to do and believe and choosing something different was a hard one. He looked at Draco and saw the boy cringe slightly and had a good idea what he was thinking about. "But I will help you any way I can."
Draco nodded, but didn't say anything. He stared at nothing and was silent for a long time. He was thinking about all the things that had happened in his life since his father was arrested. He had become friends with his rival/enemy and found they had a common link, discovered they were more alike then they had considered and found out they were attracted to each other. Draco learned a lot about Harry, as well as learning some things from Harry. But then, there were the not-so-nice things this year. His mother presenting him with a mission passed down from the Dark Lord, himself, which led to him having to spy on his godfather. And now, his father was free; out of Azkaban and undoubtedly back at his master's side. It was only too obvious to Draco that the Dementors and trolls at the game had been a distraction.
He sighed and stood up from his seat. "I'm going to head to my room. I'll see you after dinner, Severus," Draco said tiredly.
The Potions Master nodded, looking at his godson worriedly. Draco looked drained; pale and drawn with a distant look in his eyes. "Alright, Draco, get some rest while also." his tone was one that brooked no argument. Draco nodded and quickly left the room. He wanted to see how Harry was doing, but knew it would be better if he tried to sneak up to the hospital wing at night. He decided to follow Severus's orders and get some rest. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally. The adrenaline he had been running on from the game and the excitement had long since faded, leaving him beyond tired. Besides that, he wanted to not think for awhile.
Climbing into bed once he was back in his rooms, Draco shut his eyes, shut out the world, and began drifting to sleep almost immediately.
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Harry shot awake with a strangled gasp, hand flying automatically to his scar, but feeling only the coarse material of bandages. He was panting, and struggling to gather his wits, but he was succeeding, if slowly.
"Harry!" two familiar voices exclaimed, much too loudly. He turned to his right, cringing at the pain that shot through his head at the noise. He saw Ron and Hermione standing there and looking at him worriedly.
"Not so loud," he complained hoarsely, rubbing at his right temple with his finger tips.
"Sorry mate," Ron said sheepishly, voice much lower.
"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked him anxiously, her brown eyes wide and looking a bit shiny.
"Yes, I'm just bloody fantastic considering I had to out-fly Dementors today and knock out several trolls. Oh! And not to forget that I have the bloody fucking headache to end all headaches," Harry replied sarcastically, voice holding unintentional harshness and spite. He was in a bad mood, and the headache was doing nothing to help it. And his throat hurt too, damn it! He saw the look Hermione gave him and sighed. "I'm fine, but a glass of water would be nice," he hinted, his voice raspy sounding. "How long have I been out?" he asked, taking the glass from Hermione with a weak, but grateful smile.
"Only about half an hour, maybe a bit more," Hermione answered. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a new voice.
"Ah, I see you're awake, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, bustling over and waving her wand over him, muttering spells as she did so. "Any pain?"
"I have a headache," Harry said. "And I feel a bit cold."
Pomfrey nodded her head. "That would be the after effects of the Dementors, of course, but you already know that. I'll give you a potion for the headache, and a bit of chocolate. Maybe a warming spell, also," she said, seeming to be talking mostly to herself at that point.
"Where's Dumbledore, I need to talk to him?" Harry asked, just as the nurse was turning to leave.
"The Headmaster is currently away, but I will inform him when he returns of your need to talk to him. You are to rest, Mr. Potter," she said firmly, before walking away.
Harry sighed softly, and then looked at his friends, smiling wryly at the two. "Voldemort didn't disappoint. It may be earlier than usual, but this just smacks of his doing."
"Yes, and coupled with the breakout of prisoner at Azkaban, it was probably a distracting of some kind," Hermione said. Pomfrey came back and shoved a vial at Harry. He drank down the foul tasting concoction with a grimace of distasted, and then began nibbling on the chocolate he was given.
"You've got five minutes, and then you have to go. I want my patient to rest," the nurse said, giving all three a look, looking more pointedly at Harry as she stressed it.
"How long do I have to stay here?" Harry asked sourly.
"You will spend the rest of the night here, Mr. Potter, and I don't want any fuss about it," she said sternly. Her face softened a bit. "Your scar was bleeding quite profusely. It was cracked open somewhat, also," she said. Harry unconsciously rubbed at his head, feeling the bandage again. "I want you stay just in case it starts bleeding again. If it hasn't bled again by tomorrow morning then I will release you." Harry sighed, but nodded. Pomfrey reminded then of their five minutes, before bustling away. Harry turned back to his friends.
"Was anyone hurt?" he asked.
Ron shook his head. "A lot of people were really shaken, but no one was hurt," Ron replied. Then his eyes lit up. "We won the game, though! The Quidditch cup is ours."
Harry looked blankly at the redhead. He hadn't even thought about the game as he had too many other thoughts going on in his mind.
"Ron! We were just attacked by Dementors and trolls, and all you can think about is a stupid game?" Hermione asked angrily, looking at her boyfriend in disgust.
"But, Hermione, we beat Slytherin even with all that happened," Ron argued.
"I can't believe you, Ronald!" Hermione snapped.
"Ron, that's nice and all, but people could have been hurt. I could have been hurt, or killed even. Excuse me if I'm not as excited as you are," Harry said dryly. Ron flushed, and stared at his feet, looking shamefaced.
"I'm sorry, Harry, I just…I was happy, was all," Ron mumbled, ears burning red. There was a moment of awkward silence.
"I'm glad you're okay, Harry," Hermione said. "Your scar is…is it okay?" she asked hesitantly.
Harry's brow furrowed at this, and he once again felt his head over where his scar was. Besides some tenderness, it seemed fine and he told the two so. He told them about his 'meeting' with Voldemort, too. Hermione looked incredulous and Ron looked pale, a bit worried and slightly awed.
"Voldemort was in your head and the two of you basically taunted each other," Hermione said slowly, as if someone just said pink bunnies were planning to take over the known world.
"Yeah, basically, until he said some stuff about my parent and Sirius, and then I pushed him from my mind," Harry shrugged carelessly.
"Awesome," Ron breathed. Hermione shook her head, a wry smile twisting her lips.
"Only you, Harry, would taunt a person who is out to kill you," she said with a sigh. Harry smirked at her, and gave another smooth roll of the shoulders, shrugging indifferently at her comment.
Pomfrey came back over then and began ushering the two out. She then told Harry to rest and that if he argued she would give him a sleeping draught. Harry was quick to lie down and keep his moth shut, though he didn't go to sleep. He had too much on his mind to sleep. He was glad no one had been hurt, but his thoughts were all over. The breakout was shocking, and Harry was wondering how Draco was taking it, but there was also the thought of what Voldemort's next move was, that was also plaguing him. This could only lead to something bigger and more dangerous. He wanted to be ready for it, whatever it was.
He turned on his side and pulled the think sheet up to his shoulder. He wondered where Dumbledore was. What had happened with the trolls that lay unconscious not far from the pitch? What about the Dementors? He didn't know and it frustrated him that he didn't. He hoped Dumbledore answered his questions when he talked to the man. Not being told things always made a bit of bitterness burn in Harry's body, especially after last year. Not knowing things could lead to disaster.
And there's my inner cynic, Harry thought wryly, unconsciously rubbing his arm. He couldn't let himself get too down about it, as there was nothing he could currently do. Besides, he was tired, just a little bit. He snuggled down into the bed and closed his eyes. Sleep came soon after.
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Dumbledore absent dusted himself off after stepping from the fireplace in his office. He slowly made his way over to the perch that held Fawkes and gently petted the beautiful looking phoenix, which trilled softly. He smiled a little at the bird, before taking his seat. He weary blue eyes gazed ahead unseeingly.
He had just returned from the Ministry of Magic after meeting with Fudge. The attack at the castle hadn't been the only one to happen that day. About ten Dementors attacked a small magical community in Sutherland at about the same time as the attack at Hogwarts. Along with the Dementors a small group of Death Eaters had accompanied them. Apparently, the Ministry's Aurors had been preoccupied with that attack and by the time they got help to Azkaban it had been too late. The prisoners and any accomplices to the breakout had been long gone. And the bad news just kept building.
While no one at Hogwarts had been hurt in the attack, the same couldn't be said for Sutherland. There was still speculation on exactly what went on at Azkaban, but Sutherland had a total of five casualties, low considering the circumstances. Two had been given the Kiss by Dementors and three had died at the hands of Death Eaters. There had been many injuries, also, before the Death Eaters disappeared and the Dementors were swept away, not long before the Ministry arrived with extra help.
Albus had gathered all the information about what had happened that he could, offered advice to Fudge – as usual – and left the Ministry to return to the castle. He still had many things to do, and checking in on Harry was at the top of the list. He wanted to make sure the boy was okay. Last he'd seen Harry; he'd been lying unconscious in the hospital wing and bleeding from the scar that adorned his head.
He sighed and rubbed wearily at his head. He hadn't expected Voldemort to take his Death Eaters being incarcerated lightly, but this had been – obviously – unexpected. And with Severus still working his way back into Voldemort's trust, it would still be hard getting information unless they got another spy in there – which he was working on. Rising from his chair, he extracted his pocket watch to check the time. It was only a few minutes into dinner. He decided to go and reassure the students and staff first, and then he would head to the hospital wing to see Harry. He would also have to schedule an Order meeting to discuss this new development.
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After talking to the students and eating a bit of dinner, Dumbledore made his way to the hospital wing before dinner was even over. He would have to make this quick, as Severus had expressed his need to talk to him about something of great importance. He was pretty sure he knew what it was about, and other pieces of a puzzle he'd been trying to solve were gradually falling into place. There were still missing pieces, but he was sure he would find them out soon. He walked into the hospital wing and smiled at Pomfrey as he stopped at her office.
"Poppy," he greeted warmly. "How is Mr. Potter doing? And the other students who had been brought in?"
"The few others just needed bits of chocolate, some headache potions and warming spells. They were released right after, as soon as they were able to leave. Mr. Potter has had his head bandaged from where the scar had bled, and besides a headache I believe he'll be fine. I'm keeping him overnight for observation, however, as I'm not sure what will happen since it is a curse scar," Poppy replied. Dumbledore nodded. "He's just finishing with dinner. Also, he wanted to talk to you."
"Thank you, Poppy," Dumbledore said, leaving her office and making his way towards where Harry lay. The boy was sitting up with a tray on his lap and a magazine of some kind to the side of him. As he got closer, Dumbledore noticed it was a Quidditch magazine. When Harry looked up, Dumbledore smiled. "How're you, my boy?"
"Good," Harry said quietly. "I've still got a bit of a headache, but it's not as bad as earlier. I wanted to talk to you, though."
Dumbledore summoned a chair and sat down in it. He nodded to what Harry said. "Madam Pomfrey said as much. What did you have to talk about, Harry?"
"Voldemort came to me," Harry began without preamble. "In my head, I mean. He talked about how his followers were free and did a bit of gloating. Did anything else happen while I was unconscious?"
"The Dementors probably lowered your mental shields, which gave Voldemort room to enter your mind. Were you able to push him out?" Harry nodded. Dumbledore thought carefully about what he wanted to say. "There was another attack besides the one here at Hogwarts."
Harry's eyes widened and he looked at Dumbledore intensely. "Where, and was anyone hurt? What happened?" he asked quickly.
"Calm down, Harry. The attack was in a small magical community in Sutherland. Apparently they were attacked by Dementors and a few Death Eaters as well," Dumbledore said.
"Another distraction," Harry muttered. Dumbledore nodded. "And was anyone hurt?" Harry asked again, his tone asking for the truth. Dumbledore looked at him for a long moment silently.
"Injury and death are an inevitably of war, Harry," the old man said quietly. "There were some casualties – five to be exact."
Harry closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. He had known there would be deaths and such, but it was still hard to hear about it – personal, or not. He opened his eyes and looked into blue ones. "Thank you for being honest with me, sir. I really appreciate it," he said quietly. "And…I'm sorry for how I've been behaving towards you this year."
"Say no more, Harry, say any more. I understand that in times of tragedy and grief we sometimes tend to lash out at others. I must admit, though, that I was a bit put-off by it at time, but I understand. You were lashing out at those easiest to blame," Dumbledore said reasonably, a twinkle coming to his eyes. Harry flushed and shifted a bit at that and Dumbledore chuckled lightly. "You are not the first person to take out their grief on those around them, and you won't be last."
Harry sighed and nodded, feeling a bit of weight lifted off of him. Nothing like life-threatening situations to make a person take their head out of their arse, Harry thought wryly.
"I'm going to leave you to rest now. You'll be out of here in the morning, provided nothing happens. I must go and speak with Professor Snape."
"What does Snape want?" Harry blurted before he could stop himself.
Dumbledore gave him a look. "That's Professor Snape, Harry, and I believe he wants to talk to me about Draco Malfoy," he said casually. Harry tossed him a sharp look.
"Well, Malfoy is one of his Slytherins and he's a teacher's pet. He's probably just seeking attention or something, or maybe it's something about his father. I'm sure Lucius was one of the escapees," Harry said bitterly. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and Harry felt a bit uncomfortable by the look the man had in his eyes.
"Now, Harry, I'm sure Professor Snape's godson holds more importance than that to him," Dumbledore replied with an amused smiled. Harry's eyes very nearly popped out of his head at this, his eyes were so wide. His mouth worked uselessly for a few moments. "Didn't you know? Ah, my mistake. It's not well known and only those on friendly terms with Mr. Malfoy would probably know."
"Er, yeah," Harry said awkwardly. "Who cares that Malfoy is Snape's godson anyway?"
"It's just an old man babbling nonsense, Harry. Well then, I'll leave you to rest now. Have a good night's sleep," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as he rose from his seat.
"You too, sir," Harry replied faintly. Dumbledore just smiled and left the hospital wing, leaving Harry with the feeling that the man knew more than he was letting on. And what was wrong with Draco anyway? Snape was Draco's godfather? Harry flopped back on the bed and sighed. This day was just full of surprises.
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Draco breathed out slowly as he followed next to Severus. Dinner had just ended and he had waited around for Severus's cue. The man had instructed him to follow him with nothing but a look, and Draco did. He could feel his heart beating a violent rhythm against his chest as they made their way to wherever they were going. He was pretty sure they were going to Dumbledore's office, wherever that was. He had seen Severus lean over to speak to the man during dinner. He felt like a complete wreck inside and he was sure he was about to panic. He had never been in Dumbledore's presence before – at least, not I such close proximity anyway. He had heard so many things about the man since he was a little boy. He had been mentioned almost as much as Harry Potter.
Finally reaching their destination apparently, they stopped in front of a solemn looking gargoyle statue. Looking at it, Draco watched as Severus approached it and spoke something. Then, he watched as the gargoyle leapt aside, revealing a spiral staircase. He stood there and looked at it, getting the impression that once he stepped forward onto those stairs, that there was no turning back. Not only physically – as Severus wouldn't let him back out, and Draco's pride was too busy hiding somewhere to keep him from doing it – but in all aspects. Once he stepped onto those stairs, his life would change, even more so than now. Was he really ready for this? Could he do this, knowing that it would change so many things – if not everything – in his life?
Draco glanced at Severus, who stood before him, watching him patiently with calm, solemn eyes. Draco swallowed and looked back at the staircase. He thought about all that had happened that year, so far, and took a deep breath, steeling himself. If he could befriend his once rival and get into a relationship with him, then he could do this. This meeting – for he was sure of that much – would be a turning point in what happened in the future for him. With a firm nod to Severus, Draco walked forward and stepped onto the staircase, making another factoring step in his life somehow. He could feel it as if it was a physical change.
Severus stepped on behind him and they rode the spiral stairs up together in silence. When they reached the top, stepped off, and stood before a big oak door, Draco felt Severus touch his shoulder. He felt an added bit of comfort by that simple gesture that just finalized everything in his mind in some way. Severus would be there for him, no matter what. Squaring his shoulders, lifting his chin and nodding, Draco watched as Severus knocked on the door, and walked in even before an invitation was uttered. He followed.
He looked around at all the contraptions that he encountered, brow furrowed at most of them. He gazed around him, taking in all he could see. He stopped before he bumped into his godfather's back, as the man stopped walking himself. Draco pulled his focus back to the matter at hand and looked ahead. The room was devoid of the Headmaster, but Draco caught a glimpse of something even more interesting. He stared at the beautiful red phoenix that sat upon a perch, ruffling its feathers and gazing absently at them. Draco had never seen a phoenix before, and was awed by the creature. He stepped closer to get a better look. The phoenix turned to focus on him completely, staring at him with its black eyes, before it trilled out a soft note.
"Fawkes is a magnificent bird, is he not, Mr. Malfoy?" a voice said jovially. Draco whirled around to see Dumbledore dusting himself off and standing before a fireplace. "Severus. It's good to see you both. I've just come just checking in on Mr. Potter, who appears to be doing quite well after today's excitement. Sherbet lemon?" the man said all this in that light tone, walking to his desk and sitting down. He smiled at Draco's lifted brow as the blond sat down.
"No thank you, Headmaster," Severus said dryly, obviously very much use to this.
"Uh, no thank you, sir," Draco replied, a bit hesitantly. He was glad to hear that Harry was doing okay, though. That gave him a bit of relief.
"Ah, more for me then," Dumbledore said, popping a yellow candy into his mouth, eyes twinkling. Draco wondered if all those claims of the man being mad were true. "Now, Severus, you stated a wish to speak with me. Am I correct to believe that it pertains to Mr. Malfoy here?"
"Yes, Headmaster, it is quite important," Severus said quirking an eyebrow and hinting to the need for privacy. Dumbledore nodded his head.
"Of course, of course!" Dumbledore said smoothly, raising his brows as he gazed at Severus – who nodded slightly – before turning his gaze to Draco. He smiled at the young man who looked so much like his mother. He knew many thought the boy was a spitting image of Lucius – and in a way he was – but there was also a lot of Narcissa in the boy. "What can I do for you, Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco straightened himself and looked from Dumbledore to Severus and back, before taking a deep breath. Why did it feel like his throat was trying to close up? And why did Dumbledore's gaze have to be so intense? He could feel both men's eyes staring at him, seeming to be burning holes into him. He cleared his throat. "Headmaster, as you know, my father was arrested last year on Death Eater activities, but is currently free. I've no doubt he is," Draco said. Dumbledore looked at the young Malfoy heir for a moment, before nodded slowly.
"Lucius was one of the prisoners who escaped in the breakout. There hasn't been a full count of everyone yet, but they've been able to identify a few," Dumbledore replied, giving the boy a bit of information. Draco nodded, not looking at all surprised by the announcement. Lucius would have been stomping over all others to get out of there.
"I'm here because I have no desire to end up like my father. I've seen what his path holds for me," Draco continued, pushing back images of blood and gore. "I've come to the decision that that's not the path for me," Draco said calmly, evenly, feeling anything but on the inside.
"He's looking to choose a different future than the one his father chose, Albus," Severus spoke up, and Dumbledore could hear the 'the one I choose' just on the tail of that statement. "There is also a very good chance that he may be called upon to be marked this summer." Dumbledore nodded, folded his hands and laid his chin atop them. He looked at the two people across from him in silence for a long moment, thinking about had been said.
"I commend you on your courage to come forth with this Mr. Malfoy. Not many could summon the willpower to such. Also, you're right, Severus, but that all depends on Mr. Malfoy here, and what he wishes to do," Dumbledore said, looking to the blond.
"What do you mean?" Draco asked evenly, eyes narrowed on the Headmaster suspiciously. Dumbledore looked back at the blond, unfazed.
"Just because a person decides they don't want to do one thing, it doesn't mean there are other things they're willing to do to escape the first," Dumbledore said calmly. Draco remained silent, absorbing the words and contemplating things. He and Severus hadn't talked before coming her and Draco was also debating whether to mention the mission or not. He wanted to turn to the man to get some guidance, because he wasn't sure what to do. He glanced at his godfather, slightly startled, but endeavoring not to show it, to see black eyes looking back at him. Severus raised an eyebrow at him, before turning back to Dumbledore.
"There is another thing, Albus," Severus said.
Well, that answered that, Draco thought, looking to Dumbledore who was looking at them with slightly raised brows. Draco cleared his throat and told the man in a somewhat stilted voice about the mission his mother had given him from the Dark Lord. To the old man's credit, he didn't even bat an eye at his words, just sat there calm as ever.
"Well," Dumbledore said after a moment. "This does add a bit of a complication to things." That was an understatement if there ever was one and only made the need for another spy more important. Dumbledore looked to Severus and held his gaze for a long, intense moment. He was sure Severus was calculating what he would say – suggesting – but Dumbledore wasn't an unkind man. While he could use this to the Light's advantage, he wouldn't coerce the boy into being a spy – even if he probably would be deeper in the Death Eaters than Severus. When Severus had turned spy he had been a bit older and had chosen his path, even though it was taxing on the man. He looked back to the youngest of the three and focused on him.
"Mr. Malfoy, you've made a great step in your decision not to join the Death Eater, but you have another decision to make," Dumbledore said, settling in for a long discussion.