After two weeks' repeated experiments, from objects to living animals, when a canary could travel alive freely between the two Vanishing Cabinets, once again, Draco stood before the Headmaster's office. Silent and ugly as the stone gargoyle still was, Draco's feelings had changed dramatically since half a year ago.

He spoke out the password, and stepped onto the spiral staircase, his footsteps echoing in his ears. As he rose upward in circles, higher and higher, bright light pouring down from the far, lofty canopy, in a moment he had the illusion of him ascending to heaven, but he knew deep down that to him, behind the gleaming oak door was exactly the opposite of heaven.

"Come in, though one might wonder how you got the password." called Dumbledore when Draco reached at the top. The door opened silently.

Draco entered. The soothingly aroma of hot tea in the circular room hit him and reminded him that he had missed dinner again. Sitting behind the desk was an old wizard, who was surveying him through his half-moon spectacles, a cup in hand, mildly surprised, and so were the portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, many of whom had been awoken and were whispering urgently into their neighbor's ear.

So Snape had kept his word. Dumbledore was in the Dark.

Controlling his racing heart, Draco strode confidently forward.

"Good evening, Professor. The password was from Professor Snape who, for a certain reason, had to provide me with the information."

"I see," said Dumbledore, smiling. He flicked his wand, and a teapot ran over to pour another mug of tea. "Why don't you sit down and have a cup of tea with me, Draco, if you don't mind?"

"Thank you," said Draco, and he took the seat to which Dumbledore had gestured. "I am not speaking to you as a student now, however, but rather as one of the followers of the Dark Lord."

Hardships as he had endured for this day, and suffered was he for this decision, yet when he spoke, his voice was much calmer than he had expected.

"Well, Draco," said Dumbledore, raising one brow, "Does Lord Voldemort have any message for me?"

"Not exactly," Draco's face paled, but he refrained himself and managed a smile. "Would you still have tea with me?"

"Why not," said Dumbledore, still smiling, "even if Lord Voldemort he himself was here, I would still offer him a drink. This is not a matter of where one stands, my boy."

"That's the difference between you and him," said Draco after a pause, smiling slightly and shaking his head, "that I could sit here and say you are a mad, old fool, but I would have to kneel before him, kissing his robes … One week before the start of last term, the Dark Lord honored me with one task: kill you, or my family die … I can tell you now, that my plan is nearly complete, only the last step waiting to be executed."

"Your plan?"

"Yes, I could open a passage from the outside to the school, a passage that's definitely not in you control. The Death Eaters could swarm into your school via it."

Dumbledore's charred hand stopped at his cup. He stared at Draco quizzically and asked, "How did you do it?"

"I cannot tell you for now, but I guarantee you that everything is ready."

"I must admit your progress is much faster than I'd expected, Draco," said Dumbledore, sighing, "it could have been a plausible plan, but now that you've told me, it might have the opposite effect, and killing me would become less possible."

"Yes, but it could also be a trap by which the Order of Phoenix could get rid of most of the Death Eaters, without whose support the Dark Lord would lose much of his influence. He would need to take much effort to regain his power, and that's the opportunity to defeat him."

"So you are betraying your master," Dumbledore's eyes became piercing. "What do you request of me?"

"I want to help you, telling you everything I know and cooperating with your men, on one condition," Draco drawled, "that my father being released, and my family well protected."

"If you kill me, Lord Voldemort will release Lucius, too."

"That's just a 'if', isn't it? Now that I tell you, it becomes certain."

Dumbledore sighed again and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Persuasive … You are clever, and much more brave than I've imagined – nicer too."

"Nice is not a proper compliment for a follower of the Dark Lord, Sir."

"I beg to differ." said Dumbledore easily, leaning on the chair, waving his charred hand. "I knew your task and your predicament, that's why I did not confront you, nor did I plan to discuss it with you. If he used Legilimency against you, or by any means knew my suspicions about you, you would be in grave danger –"

Draco inclined his head and said, "Well, thanks for your concern."

"I must thank you too, for coming to see me today, and for coming over to the right side."

The phoenix standing on a golden perch beside the door let out a low, soft, musical cry.

"I get what I need," Draco turned his gaze away, avoiding Dumbledore's eyes, "I'm not helping you out of so-called goodness."

"Even so, I apologize that I've wrongfully judged you in the past few years. Draco, you've grown up to be an excellent wizard, far beyond your age, and much better than your father. He failed to make up his mind in face of fear, but you did. It would be a huge loss should the wizarding world lose you. I wish you would receive my help –"

"I believe that's why I am here."

"You asked me to protect your family, not yourself; besides, there's a great flaw in your plan, namely, your own safety." Dumbledore's voice turned softer as Draco clenched his fist involuntarily. "Please, tell me the true reason, so that I may help you –"

"Protecting my family is the reason!" shouted Draco.

"If it's just for that, you could simply ask me to hide both your parents and you. I guarantee the place is safer than you can imagine. In fact, I was trying to persuade you to accept this plan instead."

"Yeah," Draco sneered, "hiding, as long as he lives. Like a rat in a hole, until one day being saved."

"If it was Lucius, he wouldn't find anything wrong. You, nevertheless, sounded much more bold than what a Malfoy would do." said Dumbledore gently, "Hiding is not being a coward. No one should send a sixteen-year-old to die; therefore, would you tell me why you insisted on doing this? "

Draco glared at the old man; the latter had a sip of his tea, waiting calmly.

Draco sprang to his feet from his seat, and began to pace in the room, steps wider and feelings angrier. Suddenly he caught sight of the Sorting Hat on a shelf, shabby and tattered, the same as he had seen when he first walked into the castle, when he first met her and thought he had a peep of heaven.

Only he didn't know he would never reach there, but looking up to it, far in hell.

"You just want to know my weakness, do you?" Draco stood by the window, back to Dumbledore, his voice quavering from strong emotion. "Fear and greed, that's how the Dark Lord controls people, but you're different: you want something more complicated, more effective … especially from dark Slytherins like us. Better to know Achilles' heel before you use him, just like you did with Professor Snape?"

"He told you?" asked Dumbledore in astonishment.

Draco paused, immediately regretting his slip. "That was an accident," hissed him, running a hand through his hair, "We shared some secrets. That's why I knew he was your man."

"No wonder … I did ask Severus to inspect your progress, yet he reported me very little." said Dumbledore, nodding his head, stroking his long, silver beard, on which tied a blue bowknot with a silver chain. "I do not wish to control you, Draco, nor do I think I controlled anyone in the past. Severus is also a brave man, and so he decides what he shall do with his life. Fate is so unpredictable, that it's hard enough to have control over our own heart. And as for weaknesses … sometimes I find them quite endearing. They are the evidence that we are alive, that we care, love, and have hopes …"

"The old argument of love!"

"Yes, love. Lord Voldemort thinks that it is nonsense, that he has no weaknesses and that he is invincible. But love defeated him once, and I dare say one day he will meet his doom in ignorance of it again."

"So now when I'm standing here, you think it is for love too?" cried out Draco in a higher pitch. "Maybe you're right about love being a powerful weapon, and maybe it represents some kind of greater good –"

"And you choose to face it and protect it." cut in Dumbledore.

"But it's also the origin of all disasters!" shouted Draco loudly, his face flushing.

Dead silence fell in the room. Later Dumbledore asked quietly, "Then what can I do for you, Draco?"

"You cannot help me," said Draco, leaning his forehead against the cold window, his voice low and hoarse, "Just use me, as long as you end the war. Do as you might to protect the school and –" and her. Hermione would not leave Potter, and therefore would be in extreme danger – "I want you to swear, that you will vanquish him at whatever cost. But please, don't make me say anymore."

"I swear, my dear boy." Dumbledore rose from behind the desk and stood beside him. "The failure of Lord Voldemort is inevitable, yet you however, still has a future –" He stopped, as Draco pulled his sleeve up: there on the bare skin of his forearm was the curling Dark Mark.

"There's no future, Sir." Looking at Dumbledore's shocked expression, Draco said slowly, "I will have it all my life."

The bright blue eyes moistened, filled with great sadness.

"Did it hurt?"

Draco bit his lips, his chest heaving, and then he replied, "Yes, it did."