Draco didn't say a word the whole train ride back to Hogwarts. Pansy didn't try to get him to talk and told Crabbe and Goyle to kick anyone who tried to bother them in the privates. Draco liked to think that she now understood everything he was having to grieve.
Classes continued on the same, the dragon was surprisingly silent, and Harry Potter was still breathing to ruin Draco's life. Yet things were not as bad this time, and he had an image of his perfectly made bed waiting to be rumpled by his return steady in the back of his mind.
He also had his pointe slippers with him which he stood in for ten minutes each day, since he didn't have enough space to twirl, and he had Pansy, who helped Draco stretch his knees to his forehead, since he didn't have enough space to do it on the floor.
Before break, Draco hadn't had much time to work on Snape's latest poem, what with the stress of learning Occlumency and all. On the first day of Library Study, Draco stayed after to look over it again. He hadn't even remembered it until he'd reached in the pocket of his school robes earlier that day and felt the small piece of parchment inside. Draco had to enlarge it to make out what the words said.
My color is red like blood
I taste like what grows out of mud
Once I am complete
Is known the next feat
Scales and snails
Give no tales
So do I?
Draco saw Granger coming his way and fled, but later that night in bed he thought about it and the next morning he had an idea. Maybe Snape wrote a poem about the potion which it came attached to . . ? Draco had to search for quite awhile, but he finally found the potion in the third drawer of his wardrobe, still glowing green. It wasn't until after he'd located the item did Draco distinctly remember putting it there. This time he stashed it safely with the supply of extra potions he'd started keeping under his bed. He always had three calming droughts and two thoughtfulness potions left over of the monthly supply Snape gave him, and now that Draco was making his own potions he figured he needed somewhere to put them until his return to the manor.
Draco was surprised to find that his magic was once again completely under his control. However, said surprise didn't hinder his excitement at all - he was flicking his wand every time he had a chance. Still, he was very suspicious of everyone, but chose to blame the dragon and ignore the problem for as long as he could. Unfortunately, it was shortly later confronted by the last person Draco ever thought would care.
Professor Dumbledore sent an elf to fetch Draco late one night, a few weeks after break. Draco was already tucked away in bed and had to get up and back into his robes all by himself, though he didn't bother with the uniform underneath. When Draco finally reached the Headmaster's office, after demanding that the shy house elf escort him the whole way, Dumbledore treated him pleasantly and offered him strange candies like Lemon Drops, which Draco outright refused. Draco was sure he was seconds away from being assassinated by the large flaming phoenix perched high behind Dumbledore's desk who looked as if she was barely restraining herself from picking out Draco's eyeballs and feasting on them.
"Draco," the old wizard said, finally seeming to sense that Draco was never going to be the one to talk first. Draco focused on keeping his thoughts neutral.
"You are much like your mother, I see," Dumbledore offered and Draco just blinked at him. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he smiled strangely as he next spoke, "this is a good thing. Your mother has a very good reason to be wary of me, much different than your father's reasons, I'm sure."
Draco didn't know what to say. Hidden in the back of his mind-dungeons, he kept reminding himself of his mother's passage about Dumbledore in his journal. Nobody, Draco, she'd wrote, smiles sincerely at a Malfoy, unless they are in love or stupid . . . or both.
Dumbledore chuckled. "Are you shy, Draco? Or is something the matter?"
Draco did not think the Headmaster was in love with him, but nor did he think the wizard stupid in any sense of the word, which could only mean one thing. Dumbledore wasn't being sincere.
"I am not shy, sir." Draco couldn't help but scowl at his own revelation and use of the word sir, which had flown out of his mouth too easily for never remembering using it a day in his life. "I don't know you at all," he pointed out a bit snappily.
"Ah, yes," the wizard exclaimed, unconcerned seeming. "I always am getting ahead of myself. I believe it annoys your godfather to no end."
"Snape," Draco said slowly, like he was unsure. Though he could easily see how Severus Snape would very much hate that.
"The one and only," Dumbledore confirmed. Again, Draco had no clue what to say so he waited patiently and glared at his own toes until Dumbledore felt the need to explain himself. "I know a lot of things about you, Draco, and I think your father has let you believe that our stories are less connected than they truly are. I know that I can help you with something important to you, and I will help you. All you have to do in return is listen."
"Listen . . . to you?" asked Draco, making sure he had things right.
Eyes still twinkling, Dumbledore nodded.
"Because that isn't what every dark wizard and wicked witch would say."
The words had escaped his mouth before Draco could have stopped him, but Dumbledore only chuckled. Draco scowled. He hated being mocked. This was worse than the fool thinking Draco rude. Draco made to right his wrong but Dumbledore spoke again before he could even open his mouth.
"Your godfather told me that you enjoyed reading?" inquired Dumbledore.
"Some things," Draco said through gritted teeth. He just wanted to go to bed. He had no clue if he was about to be punished or what. "Can you just tell me what you mean, sir?" Draco asked quickly.
"You have noticed an increase in your power since you've been here at Hogwarts-only at Hogwarts-have you not? Perhaps it even began on the train. I can help you wield such power."
"Why should I trust you instead of my father?"
"I am here, your father is not."
"Snape's here, I could tell him," Draco pointed out.
"Would you rather Professor Snape be the one to help you, Draco? I thought I would be the one best suited for the job, but I'm sure your godfather may be inclined."
"What do you want from me?"
"Tonight I just wish to show you something."
Draco stayed quiet and let the wizard talk. He told Draco about wandless magic and how to conserve magic when spells required very little of it. He told Draco that power was never something one should show off unless they wanted to intimidate enemies, or if they just had too much lying around. He showed Draco how to stabilize himself and his magic from within. Draco learned that healing spells usually required the most amount of magic, and they were always a sure way to expend some bottled up magic. Draco learned a new method to summon things, and two different versions of both the Revealing and Banishing Charms.
Draco was amazed with his own ability. He didn't understand how he could screw up a simple hair charm, yet do all these advanced spells perfectly on his first or second try.
Dumbledore didn't tell Draco why he was helping him or why Draco was suddenly much more powerful, but by the time Draco fell asleep he wasn't thinking about that and the Headmaster was looking like a much better ally.
The days after that passed quickly, and Draco found himself in a loop of studying, cursing Potter's name in the common room, and wondering when Dumbledore would call him up to his office next. Of course, since Draco was least expecting it, he got a call from somebody else.
"Draco . . . Draco," said a deep voice, seemingly from right next to his ear, and Draco startled out of bed. A raspy chuckle followed him. "Come to the tower, Draco," the voice continued and Draco groaned.
"Can't you come to me for once?" hissed Draco, uselessly. There was no reply, just a leftover pull calling him toward the tower, so Draco huffed and began to tear off his night clothes as he moved to knock on Linky's door. She appeared with a barely there crack a second later-which told Draco that it was late enough to be up anyway-and instantly started to gather a pair of all black robes for him to wear since it was the weekend.
"The dragon, master Draco?" asked Linky once Draco was dressed, yawning, and gripping her hand. He nodded wordlessly and they were off with a soft crack.
"Young warlock," the dragon greeted Draco with a smirk. "How nice of you to join me."
"Yes, nice," Draco agreed, staring down at his bare feet, trying to remember why he hadn't worn shoes. "Why can't you visit me again?"
"Would you really want me to appear on your walls whenever I please?"
"Merlin, no," Draco admitted.
"That's that then." The dragon looked rather sour and Draco noted this must be a sore subject for some reason.
"Suppose," Draco yawned again.
"I have a proposal for you, young warlock," the dragon began and Draco groaned.
"What is it with people-or creatures-trying to play me like some kind of fool?" hissed Draco, suddenly much more awake.
The dragon merely arched an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, but if you haven't noticed I actually do not know everything that goes on in your life at every point in time, so if you are aiming for a certain response here, I'm afraid you will have to do some more explaining."
"Are you in cahoots with Dumbledore, then?" Draco sneered. "What is it you two want from me? My sanity?"
The dragon froze, and for a second Draco thought that he'd actually put the creature in his place, but then he spoke again, his voice hard and cool and definite.
"Hear me now, young warlock, I will never sink low enough to partner myself with a wizard like your current Headmaster. If Dumbledore has deceived you, it was his own doing. I can tell you now . . . your path is not one with the old batty wizard, if you trust one thing I say, trust this."
"At least he has something to offer me," Draco cried. "Spells. Wisdom. All you have given me is pain!"
As soon as the words had left his mouth Draco wished that he could take them back.
The dragon, however, looked violent suddenly, not smug, and Draco briefly thought he was about to die and found himself grabbing for Linky's hand.
"I do not know what the wizard thinks he's doing, but only fools play with fate, young warlock. I thought as a Slytherin you would understand that knowledge is not power . . . for knowledge is nothing without choices made," the dragon hissed at Draco and faded back into the wall with some angry crunching noises.
Draco sighed.