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Neville accompanied Draco all the way to the stone gargoyle. Neither of them said much. Draco dreaded the confrontation with Dumbledore but he knew that Neville was right. If he truly wanted to cause any positive change he had to talk to the man in charge. Neville was probably lost in his own thoughts and Draco could not blame him. Finding out that your enemy turned best friend was a time traveling Death Eater was admittedly a bit much.
"This is it," Draco sighed once they had reached the staircase leading to the headmaster's office.
"You can do it," Neville smiled at him encouragingly. "Do you want me to join you?"
He did, but he knew he had to do it alone. "It's okay. Go and have lunch."
Neville left, and Draco turned towards the stone gargoyle, wondering what the password might be. But before he could finish his thought, the gargoyle stepped aside, making room for the spiraling staircase.
Fawkes sat on his perch, eyeing Draco with a look of curiosity and suspicion when he entered the office.
"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk. He did not seem surprised to see Draco. His sparking blue eyes were looking up from behind his half moon spectacles. "Please, have a seat."
Draco, however, remained standing as memories washed over him. It felt as if it was only yesterday that he had seen the light in the old man's eyes fade away. Seeing the man again, slightly younger, and ignorant of his future, was a strange sight to behold. His emotions made a loophole through his heart and mind.
"Would you like some tea, perhaps?"
Draco could have laughed. Tea? In a situation like this? But he found himself nodding in agreement and watched Dumbledore conjure up a teapot along with two mugs. As he poured them both a mug of hot tea, Draco gave in and sat down opposite of Dumbledore at his desk.
They both drank their tea in silence, Dumbledore patiently waiting for Draco to talk. Draco found himself relax a little, losing the tension that had been building up inside of him with each step on the spiraling staircase.
"I assume you are here to discuss last night's events?" Dumbledore finally asked, but Draco assumed he already knew that that wasn't the reason why he was here.
Draco had to drain his tea cup before he could muster the courage to open his mouth.
"N-no, sir," he couldn't even look at the man.
"Ah, perhaps then, your reasons for recently making a habit out of defying expectations?"
"I have been defying expectations?" he asked carefully.
"You most certainly have. In the best of ways, I might add." Draco couldn't see it, but he was sure that the old man's eyes were twinkling at him. "Outstanding performances in every subject. Mostly impeccable behavior. Cultivating inter-house friendships. Saving members of the opposing team during Quidditch matches. Helping those in need. And, of course, the undeniable habit of avoiding ever even glancing into my direction."
Draco perked up at the last bit of information. He was stunned at how perceptive the man was. He had underestimated him.
"Have I done something to antagonize you, Mr. Malfoy?"
"No, sir. It's… It's something I have done." Draco stared at the desk in front of him. When would this feeling of shame ever subside?
Draco looked up, right into those twinkling blue eyes and he couldn't help picturing in vivid details how those eyes had been pleading with his godfather. "Severus, please." And then, life leaving those blue eyes. Draco closed his eyes again, fighting tears and memories alike.
"If you are willing," Dumbledore said, "could you please explain to me, why you possess a memory of my death?"
So, he had invaded his mind. Draco hadn't even noticed.
"Because I watched you die, sir," Draco mumbled, looking up again, occluding heavily as to not think of that terrible night anymore. Dumbledore's eyes were not twinkling anymore, and his brows were furrowed. "In the future."
"Curious," Dumbledore muttered. "How did you manage to travel back in time?"
"A very powerful time-turner… It got destroyed yesterday."
"A shame," said Dumbledore.
"Indeed," agreed Draco.
"May I inquire why you have chosen to travel back in time?"
Draco looked out of the window. "My wife," he finally said. "She died. When I held in my hands the possibility to bring her back, to save her – how could I not?"
"And this is why you have visited me today?"
"No," Draco took a moment to order his thoughts, "if you were willing to help on this matter, though, I wouldn't say I couldn't use any help I can get… I am here, because I don't want to be a Death Eater. I want to help your cause. Do the right thing, for once."
"Voldemort will return?"
He tried not to flinch at the use of that name, but couldn't help himself. He nodded. "There will be another war."
"And, I assume, we were not on the same side, originally?"
Draco glared at him. As if he didn't know. "No," Draco huffed, "I wouldn't say so."
"What made you change your mind?"
Draco stared at him with an open mouth. "Have you met that lunatic?"
Draco thought he saw a faint smile tuck at the lips of the old man.
"I have had the pleasure. As such, I understand the sentiment." He smiled kindly at Draco. "How do you wish to proceed from here?"
Draco was stunned. He gave him a choice? "I don't know, sir. I will do whatever it takes. Whatever you see fit. Do with me what you will. If I must become a spy, I will do so."
Dumbledore looked contemplative. "Actually, I was rather thinking you would not make a very good spy at all." Was that meant to be an insult? "In fact, you are, I believe, already full of useful information. The last place I wish to place you is within Voldemort's grasp."
Draco let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He smiled at Dumbledore.
"I also happen to already have one very effective spy," Dumbledore added.
"Severus," Draco said.
Dumbledore looked at him questioningly.
"It's common knowledge in my time. Potter made sure of that after the war."
Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling again. The last statement probably told him all he needed to know about the outcome of the second war.
"What becomes of your dear godfather?" Dumbledore asked.
Draco frowned. "He dies a most gruesome death by the hands of the Dark Lord."
Dumbledore's smile faltered. "I am sorry to hear that. I never wanted this to happen."
Draco nodded. He wasn't planning on letting it happen again.
They both stayed silent for a few minutes.
"The first thing I must ask of you, is that you let me into your mind."
What? Draco felt panic overcome him.
"I want all the information regarding the upcoming war and how it will play out that you posses. But not just that. I ask you to give me everything you know. Show me everything you have. Even the most minute detail, even if you deem it unimportant."
"I-I am not sure if I am able to do this," Draco admitted, his voice hoarse.
"I understand how difficult this must be for you. Going through things you yourself haven't come to terms with, yet. However, I believe it might be a healing experience for you."
Draco wasn't sure whether he could go through all of his memories without occluding. What if he broke down completely?
"Okay," he finally mumbled, feeling sick. He gazed out of the window again, trying to prepare himself for what was to come. He took a few deep breaths, then he stopped occluding and a wave of intense emotions overcame him. He struggled, tears at the corners of his eyes, but finally he looked back into Dumbledore's eyes, offering no resistance as the man entered his mind.
TBC