Attention, Chapter 21
Title: Attention (21)
Rating: PG-15
Words: 1551
Notes: Thanks to alexia75 for the britpick!
Chapter Twenty-One
Despite Potter's extremely logical and convincing argument, Draco managed to keep arguing with him and Ginny until Madam Pince kicked them out at nine o'clock. But as the library doors closed behind them, and as Draco considered the prospect of returning to the Slytherin common room as a known traitor, versus possibly gaining some kind of protection by going to Dumbledore, he found that Dumbledore's office appeared less and less forbidding.
And so, with a goodbye kiss to Ginny, during which Potter turned away with a noise of deep disgust and a 'It's good I haven't told Ron anything,' Draco set off down the corridor towards the stairs up to the seventh floor.
Draco had been in Dumbledore's office once before, in his third year, after that crazy stunt with the cloaks at the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. The hexes in Father's letter after that incident had been some of the worst ever, but Draco still didn't think it was his fault; if Potter hadn't already known the Patronus Charm, it would have worked.
Dumbledore's office hadn't changed much since then, Draco noticed as he looked around nervously: silver things on tables, the Pensieve in the cabinet, Fawkes on his perch.
As Draco seated himself in one of Dumbledore's cushy chairs, Fawkes fluttered over and landed on Draco's shoulder. Although the phoenix's talons were sharp, his weight was warm and solid, oddly comforting. Draco felt oddly honored.
'So, what is it you must to tell me so urgently that you risk being caught out after curfew, Mr Malfoy?' Dumbledore asked, looking over his half-moon spectacles.
'I--' Draco found it much more difficult to say than he'd thought it would be. He tried again, the weight of the phoenix heavy on his shoulder. 'I've decided...'
'Yes?' said Dumbledore, when Draco paused.
'Er, professor, you're sure no one can hear us in here?'
'Yes, yes, quite sure.' The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes felt like the weight of the world on Draco's soul.
Fawkes dug a talon further into Draco's flesh and let out a soft crooning noise, and Draco found himself blurting out, 'TheDarkLordisplanninganattackattheQuidditchFinal.'
'I beg your pardon?' asked Dumbledore calmly.
'The Dark Lord,' Draco repeated, as quietly as he could, 'is planning an attack during the Quidditch Final. Er, Dementors, you see.'
'Ah,' said Dumbledore.
'And, er, I've decided that I, er, don't want to be my father,' Draco mumbled.
Fawkes let out another low croon and rubbed his cheek against Draco's.
'An excellent decision, Draco! I'm very glad to hear it,' enthused Dumbledore, as if Draco had simply announced that he would be spending more time on his studies. 'Now, thank you very much for this information, and I think it's best if you spoke with Professor Snape now.'
'But Snape's a D--' Draco began.
'I assure you, Severus Snape works for the Order of the Phoenix,' said Dumbledore politely but firmly. 'While I am delighted to hear that you have made a very good decision, no doubt on account of a certain Gryffindor' -- he actually had the gall to wink at Draco, who flinched -- 'I have other urgent business to attend to. Please speak with Professor Snape regarding what to do next.'
And the next thing Draco knew, he was back outside the gargoyle, mouth agape and mind a-spinning.
What on earth had just happened in there? Mind full of the too-brief conversation, Draco began slowly walking down the stairs towards Snape's office.
Why, he wondered, had Dumbledore not reacted the way Ginny and Potter both had? Dumbledore should have been shocked... as far as Draco knew, the only people who knew about the plan were the Dark Lord, his father, and Snape--
Snape. He was the answer, wasn't he?
'Ah, Draco, I've been looking for you.'
Draco looked up, startled to find he was already in the entrance hall. Lately, he realised, he'd been doing a lot of unconscious walking. Snape was addressing him from the top of the stairs leading down to the kitchens.
'Yes, Professor?' Draco asked.
'I'd like to talk with you. Would you please step into my office? Or, rather, let's go to the kitchens. I noticed you didn't eat much at dinner.'
'Er,' Draco said, wondering how on earth Dumbledore had managed to contact Snape so quickly. 'Okay.' What choice did he have? And he was hungry.
Draco crossed the entrance hall, and together they descended the short way to the kitchens. Snape tickled the pear, the portrait giggled, and they entered the cavernous kitchens.
'How are your classes going, Draco?' Snape asked after the house-elves had seen them settled at a small table off in one corner. 'As I recall, Professor McGonagall was worried about your performance in her class a little while ago.'
'Classes are fine, Professor,' Draco said, feeling very much on edge.
An uncomfortable silence fell. A house-elf scuttled up and deposited a huge tray of sandwiches. To keep from having to continue the conversation, Draco picked one up and took a huge bite.
'I understand you've been having some concerns about your father,' Snape said.
Startled, Draco nearly choked.
'I--er--yes,' he stammered, then was caught up in a coughing fit.
'You there!' Snape ordered at the nearest elf. 'Bring water.'
The elf darted across the kitchens and back in seconds with a pitcher of water.
'Dobby obeys Professor Snape,' the elf said, 'even though Dobby does not like the young Malfoy. But Dobby is a free elf and he can say what he wishes about the Malfoys, he can say that the Malfoys are evil!'
'Dobby?' Draco spluttered.
Snape handed him some water. 'Drink,' he ordered. 'Dobby, you may leave now.'
'Dobby only obeys Professor Dumbledore!' Dobby proclaimed.
Draco tossed down the water, finished coughing, and glared at the little elf.
'I'd forgotten you were here,' he said angrily. 'You keep your mouth shut about my family!'
'Dobby only speaks the truth!'
'No, Dobby doesn't,' Draco snarled. 'I am not evil, nor is my mother, so you just keep your bloody little elf mouth shut. I remember when I used to be able to kick you around, and I'm not completely out of practice, so you just watch it--'
'Draco,' Snape said quellingly. 'Leave it be.'
But the elf had raised its fists in a ridiculous stance. Draco drew his wand, intending to cast a mildly nasty hex, maybe turn its toenails inside out or give it tentacles for ears for a few hours.
Snape, however, put his own wand between Draco and the elf.
'Draco,' he repeated firmly. 'Leave it be. Dobby,' he said to the elf, 'you may not be bound to the Malfoys anymore, but it is extremely bad manners to insult someone you serve. I, too, am a master of the school, and you will obey me. You are not Dumbledore's elf, you are a Hogwarts elf. Now, go.'
Dobby glowered, but clearly had no choice. He slunk away, still muttering.
Breathing hard, Draco lowered his wand and returned his attention to his plate. 'I hate house-elves,' he muttered.
'A necessary evil,' Snape said casually. 'Now, Draco, there was a point to me wishing to meet with you, other than letting you get enough sustenance into your stomach without worrying about your classmates' terrible behavior.'
'Yeah?' Draco said, tense.
'Your mother has sent me a letter about you.'
Draco dropped the half-eaten sandwich and rudely snatched the letter Snape was holding out to him.
Dear Professor Snape,
I have just learned that Lucius is determined for Draco to follow in his footsteps in all matters, and as I had very different designs for my son's future, please send him home quickly before Lucius undertakes to do anything rash.
Kindest Regards,
Narcissa
'Oh,' said Draco. 'Er... Um. What should I do, Professor?' Why the hell was he asking Snape for advice?
'Do you wish to go home, Draco?' asked Snape.
'Well, er... Not really,' he admitted, thinking of Pansy and his father and feeling nauseous.
'Then don't,' said Snape mildly. 'Hogwarts is safe enough.'
'But...' Draco was uncertain. 'Maybe I should see her...It would make her feel better...' His mother, after all, wasn't that bad.
'In that case, the Easter holidays begin at the end of this week in any case, do they not?' said Snape. 'Your mother can wait at least until then. It will be much easier to get you permission to leave the school for an official holiday, rather than during term-time.'
And that was that. Draco picked up a few extra sandwiches and wrapped them in a napkin. Though he didn't really want to leave the safety of the kitchens, he certainly didn't want to stay around for Snape to interrogate him--
'Was there anything else, Draco?' asked Snape, just as Draco stood up.
Draco hesitated. Although Dumbledore was firmly convinced that Snape was a member of the Order, Draco was not. Snape was too glib, too manipulative for Draco to trust him. But would Dumbledore tell Snape that Draco was supposed to go and talk to him? Would Dumbledore tell Snape that Draco had chosen sides? Draco was no longer sure that it had been so smart to tell the Headmaster everything. If Dumbledore trusted Snape...
'No, professor,' he finally said. 'There's nothing else.'
~tbc~