A/n: Hi guys!! Sorry this came late. I couldn't upload any document in my account for weeks and I just managed to upload it now.

Good thing my account is fixed up.ü

Anyways, next chappie!!

Hope you enjoy.ü

By: Aningme

Chapter 28

Dilemma: The Sequel

He took an early start, leaving Hermione still asleep in the infirmary with a note to read when she stirs. He also asked the terrified house elf, Lowry, to stay with her and keep an eye on her. He wouldn't dare risk another... accident… with her all alone and unguarded. It was a relief Madame Pomfrey was present on her previous attack just yesterday. He made a mental note in his head to thank her for it.

Besides that, he needed to meet a few people, deal with a few things. And as soon as possible, he wanted them all to be over and done with.

Calmly walking through the sunlit corridors spreading out before him, he listened intently at the sounds hovering around him. Ironically, it surprised him to feel accustomed to how familiar they all sounded, and how melodious it all seemed to his ears. He didn't know his lips curving up to a smile to the snores of some portraits scattered around the stone walls, accompanied with the rhythmic tapping of his shoes on the ground.

For once, he wanted to forget everything that troubled him: Narcissa Malfoy, the war, the potion, Harry Potter… and just enjoy this much 'dreaded' homecoming of his.

He wanted to feel what he felt before, when he knew nothing but merely being his arrogant, ignorant, ego-centric, all powerful bastard he was before.

He walked these corridors as if they were all his. He always held his chin high in exaltation, just above everyone else that came past him. Eyes always lingered at him, whispers and gossips about him, pertaining to both of their awe / admiration for him, and their envious desire to be like him and have everything he had. People trailed all around him, followed him like his faithful faction, and did everything he says and commands. And women, all those flirting women, came and giggle about him, trying to get his attention even to the exaggerating extent.

It all seemed like the perfect life, having all of the wealth, fame, and fortune anyone could ask for.

He was rich.

He was powerful.

He is, after all, Draco Malfoy.

A cliché it may be to say, but it is truth that money couldn't buy everything. He had lots of things that he didn't need before, things that he may have wanted but never needed. He had lots of people crowding to see him and be with him, but never to get to know him. And he had a family that seemed perfect to the eyes of many, and hideous behind the walls of their monstrous house.

Betrayals seemed to be his life. And what better betrayal is there to have himself believe all of those lies before him…?

As if pulled back from a trance by the sight of the old wooden door they went into yesterday, he stopped and shook his head, clearing it. It shook him deep inside---startled him terrifyingly---to remember both of being the boy he was before and the man he grew up to be now. They both contrasted and contradicted each other in him about his beliefs, his philosophies, and his outlook. It seemed impossible for the latter to bloom from the former. And the name of both the boy and the man, once majestic and envied by everyone (well, of course, except the trio Gryffindor folks we're so fond of.ü), turned into a name which everyone spoke in silence, cursed, damned…

… and feared.

Finally managing to knock on the door, he heard some portraits stirring at the sound, some annoyed, some merely yawning awake. He felt their gazes slowly and hesitatingly settle on his back, expecting to hear some whispers of disparagement, or perhaps plain curiosity.

He was about to raise his fist to knock again after waiting for a reply behind the door that didn't come, when somebody spoke behind him.

"You're looking for Professor Dumbledore?"

It was a woman's voice, from a portrait expressing darkness and loneliness emphasized by the light strokes of her crème white silk garment and dull gray shadows emitting behind her.

"Yes." He turned to her, gave her a smile. "I was, in fact, looking for him."

"He's not there." A fat man with bald head and a beard the color of his eyes interjected, from a portrait of an old stone house and a dead tree beside it.

"Where is he?"

"He's outside for his morning stroll." The woman answered again, pointing to another corridor across her. "He's usually out by the hills every morning. He'd be pleased if you joined him."

He remembered his weird dream last night, walking in this same narrow corridor, feeling the unwelcome greeting of these portraits.

He stared at them now, gazing back at him with mere interest and a pleasant smile.

"Thank you." He managed to utter, and tried on another smile. "A pleasant morning to all of you."

"Mr. Malfoy?" Another portrait called out, a young man speaking this time, just before Draco could walk too far.

Draco turned to him, studied the young boy's face, and recognized. "Yes, Florence?"

The young man smiled; pleased to know he was remembered. "Welcome back."

It had been a habit of his to have morning strolls everyday to witness the most anticipating moment of a day. It always made him feel good to watch the sunrise and see how birds wake to songs of nature and beauty. He'd usually walk off and hum with them, his eyes closed, his feet bare to feel the pebbles and grass underneath them.

But, now that he lost them, he only contented himself with the caresses of the morning breeze eddying about him.

Just as he turned to a view of hills and green grass glimmering with morning dew, he felt the footsteps disturbing the small rocks and soil scattered on the ground. He'd been expecting him to come, knowing his desire to get things done in the quickest way. He always saw Draco Malfoy as a person of intricate detail and efficiency.

And as always, his instincts were right. He may have lost his feet, but he never lost his touch.

"A beautiful morning, isn't it, Mr. Malfoy? You've decided to join my morning stroll?"

He stood just beside Dumbledore's floating chair, his hands in his pockets and his eyes at the beautiful picture before him. "If you wouldn't mind me joining—"

"Of course I wouldn't mind. It's been a while since we've talked. It wouldn't hurt to have normal conversations amidst the situation we are all in." Staring up at him, he saw the paleness of Draco's face, the shadows under his eyes. "How is Ms. Granger?"

"She's fine. She's still in the infirmary, sleeping." Draco answered, his voice sounding dry.

Dumbledore nodded at this and pondered. "Have you spoken with Madame Pomfrey?"

"Not since yesterday." He muttered. "She told me it was another… flashback."

"So I've heard." He let out a wheezing sigh and coughed. "She told me it usually happens in her case. An effect of the potion, if I may say. But she also told me there is a potion she made to prevent this."

"We found it after Madame Pomfrey informed me. It was in a trash bin in her apartment…" He remembered Harvey's face, all pale in worry, as he showed the vial to him on the screen of his link. "She must've thought she didn't need it anymore."

"Perhaps." He paused again, thinking. "Perhaps she is right."

"Perhaps she is not." Draco countered. "It's dangerous for her to have these flashbacks, Professor. She almost jumped once out of a window because of them." He remembered the surge of panic in his veins as he saw her standing by the window that night, her body slowly falling into nothingness… "I can't let that happen again."

"Then we must put her in extra care." Dumbledore smiled. "I ask you, again, if it is possible for you to stay here in Hogwarts." Draco opened his mouth to answer but Dumbledore shook his head. "Yes, yes, I know you've prepared your lodgings for your visit, but wouldn't it save the trouble for you and Ms. Granger to stay here? It's for your convenience as well. And also her safety…"

"That is taken cared of. I can take care of her." Draco pointed out, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Dumbledore sighed at this. "Of course, of course." He glanced at him. "But there is another concern, Mr. Malfoy. Who would take care of you then?"

Draco merely raised his brows. "I can handle myself fine enough."

Dumbledore laughed at his reaction, "It is a man's ego when one deals with his own safety." and patted his arm. "Dear boy, look at you. You haven't slept at all."

Draco would've argued with that, but he couldn't find the energy to do so. "I've disturbed you enough already---"

"This is hardly a disturbance, Mr. Malfoy. It is never a disturbance to have a student come by to visit." Dumbledore smiled. "Besides, it took you ten years to come back. That's a great achievement, isn't it, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I haven't accomplished anything as yet, Professor."

"You may say so. But your presence here is a big thing. You came. Even if you're in the verge of breaking, falling apart." Draco stood still, calm and stoic, but Dumbledore felt himself hitting just at the right aim, sensing Draco turning rigid at the truth just told. "That is a good sign. The whole school is actually thrilled to have you back."

Draco faced him now, his hands clenched in his pockets, his eyes burning with something like anger. "Ten years ago, I stepped on this same ground, over looking this same view. It was different then, the darkness hovering all of us and blood staining everything." He knelt down at this and grabbed a handful of soil, slowly letting them slip away through his fingers. "That night, the grasses were watered with blood, and dead bodies crushed them. Screams echoed the walls of Hogwarts and everyone able to stand ran in different directions to escape."

"Chaos was never a pleasant picture." Dumbledore watched him. "So is a war."

Draco stood up then, his eyes turning suddenly hard and cold... and sad. "I was one of his puppets, Professor."

"That was the past—"

"Your students' blood are in my hands—"

"You were only a child—"

"I betrayed the school—"

"You couldn't do anything about it---"

"I almost killed you as well."

Dumbledore frowned at this and stared at him hard. "You didn't, did you?"

"I always wanted to apologize for it. I only couldn't come back here for---"

"Stop." Dumbledore raised a hand at him, silencing him. "Stop for one moment." He dropped his hand and studied him, his face apparent with disbelief, baffling Draco. "I don't see your need to apologize for the—"

"I killed your students." Draco repeated, turning away from him. No matter how many years passed, it still tasted as bitter in his mouth as it was ten years ago. "I betrayed you and this school, causing deaths of more than my hands caused itself. I destroyed the school, and I destroyed you…"

Dumbledore sat silently for a moment, letting his statements sink in. "Look around you, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco frowned at him, disoriented.

"Go on. Look." Dumbledore urged, watching him. "Now, tell me… What do you see?"

Draco raised a brow.

"Seriously." Dumbledore smiled. "What do you see?"

Pausing a moment with a sigh, Draco studied the surroundings and gave in. "I see… the sky, the hills, birds." He frowned again. "Trees, shrubs with wild flowers flourishing for spring." He turned to the castle. "Hogwarts, with its old rock walls and mosaic windows…"

Dumbledore smiled at this. "Very good. Now, tell me what you see underneath these facades."

"Facades?" Draco raised both his brows this time.

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded. "Tell me more than what meets the eye."

He ran a reckless hand through his hair and let out a cleansing sigh, thinking. "I… I see…" For a moment, it looked as if everything unfolded before him, letting him see something he never saw before. His eyes seemed to fade into a lighter shade of silver, blurred into an abstraction. "Silence… overriding disarray. Birds seem to fly everywhere, in confusion, but the winds guide them into a synchronized dance, letting the trees sway with them. I see the sun, rising once again, somehow telling everyone that he wouldn't give up rising, giving a start to another day, and another day, and another day, and another… I see earth piled up into these hills, pulsing with life bearing these green grasses, showing its fertility with numerous beauties such as those wild flowers…" He paused for a moment, swallowing the lump starting to grow in his throat. "I see the offer of choices and directions of the horizons, and of the endless forests. I see… time… running out, for some, to their ends, and for others, just beginning… with a new life…" He looked down at Dumbledore, his peaceful smile plastered on his face, listening and clinging to each and every word he said. "I see… hope, trust, and perseverance… even through all the changes time brings…" He looked away and kept his hands in his pockets again. "And beyond all that… I see peace."

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded, overwhelmingly pleased. "That is beautiful."

Gathering his bearings, Draco shook his head. "It doesn't change anything."

"Oh, but it does. It does." He repeated, emphasizing the point. "How could a man buried in faults see things the way you just proved to me you do?"

He didn't answer.

"We all come from our pasts, Mr. Malfoy, and we grow from them. They may not be entirely pleasant, and mostly they are dreadful, but whatever we had before helped us turn into what we are now… who we are today… and who we'll be tomorrow."

Draco pondered at this, standing still, listening intently to his mentor… just like the old times.

"It does not necessarily mean that where we came from is who we really are. Our identity is made of our life that is built by our choices, our mistakes, our memories, our loved ones… And having all that, we get up from our fall and move on."

"It sounds so easy when you say it." Draco smiled weakly, sincerely, for the very first time since they arrived.

"Yes. It is hard to live it. Especially when our past seems to chase us." Dumbledore thought of Narcissa Malfoy, and sighed, his lungs shaking audibly. "But wouldn't it be easier if you take the time to forgive… yourself?"

Draco didn't answer.

He just stared at him, seeing a young man standing before him in greatness he didn't know he had. "Dear boy, I can't give you my pardon for I have nothing to pardon."

Draco knelt down to him and laid a hand on Dumbledore's limp leg. "You suffered because of me."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy used a child to do their dirty jobs and to fulfill their plans. That only shows their weakness, doesn't it?"

Draco was stunned, speechless at this. He never saw it that way.

Dumbledore only laughed. "Don't act as if it is not true." He patted his arm and nodded. "You're a strong young man, Mr. Malfoy. And do not prove me wrong. The only reason I am still alive and living is because of you."

"No." He shook his head deliberately. "That's not true. I almost---"

"I am alive because of you." He insisted, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I remember that night very well, Mr. Draco. You fought the spell they cast on you and tried to stop yourself from killing me." Draco didn't know what to say. "It's already been a decade, dear boy, and yet you still blame yourself and accuse yourself of being a traitor, a murderer, whom, of course, you are not. Haven't you thought of forgiving yourself and amending yourself that those accusations are false?"

"But…" He couldn't understand. "I killed Harry Potter."

"You've poisoned yourself in lies, Mr. Malfoy." They poisoned you with lies. Dumbledore thought, his eyes staring back at him intently. "Voldemort killed Mr. Potter."

Draco only stood up, his eyes lifted in the skies. "Three years ago, Hermione Granger stood on a hospital rooftop railing, deciding whether to jump off it and die or not." He still felt the relief of her choosing the latter choice, and couldn't help it but shut down any picture pertaining her doing otherwise. "She was up there, praying to him, telling him that she'll follow him wherever he'll go. And also, I must add, she has this necklace… with a pendant. It was a ring. A diamond ring. Harry Potter's engagement ring for her."

Dumbledore didn't say anything.

"I love Hermione, Professor. I'll do everything for her. I caused her a lot of pain, more than she already knows." He remembered them all too clearly, the burnt homeworks, the ant filled beds, the exploding projects, the war... Harry Potter… "And now, I caused her even more pain. I wasn't able to protect her from Narcissa Malfoy."

Dumbledore thought about this, not speaking for a moment. Narcissa Malfoy was an another matter to be discussed with him. But that should be set aside for another discussion. "She used Dark Arts Methodology, didn't she?"

"Yes." His voice dropped to a whisper, hard and steely underneath. "It wasn't for Hermione, as she planned. She wanted to use the potion on me."

"What do you mean?"

"She baked a cake, just like an ordinary strawberry cake, filled with that poison. But it wasn't me who ate it. It was Hermione." He could still feel the terror of seeing her lifeless body, broken on the floor, just as Harvey saw her that night. "It was a good thing Hermione was throwing up because of her pregnancy. If she didn't manage to throw up some of it…"

"She would have taken the entire potion and wouldn't remember anything at all." Dumbledore's brows knitted together. "She wanted you to forget everything."

Draco nodded. "And with that process, she can manipulate me again… just like before."

"There are only a few things about Dark Arts Methodology that I know." Dumbledore paused, as if to think. "Their potions are always permanent, unlike ours, but they have antidotes."

"Counter spells, usually." Draco added, receiving a suspicious glance from Dumbledore. "I was educated about Dark Arts, even long before the war."

"Yes, of course." Dumbledore nodded, smiling. He wasn't surprised at all. "Well then, that would make it easier to find the counter spell for Ms. Granger."

He noticed that Draco hesitated before he answered, "Yes.", and looked away from him.

Watching him, Dumbledore only hoped that he wasn't planning anything ahead of them. He knew that anything concerning Dark Arts counter spells and antidotes usually require a tribute in order for the spell to work.

He only hoped that Mr. Malfoy would find a way for this to be achieved… without sacrificing anything like…

… his own life…

A/n: Yay.ü I'm still editting the next chapter.ü It's a little weird for now, but I just hope I'd finish it sooner.ü

Hope you enjoyed that.ü

Until next update then.ü

TC.ü