Somnio Salvus DRARRY

Chapter 14

Draco had never been in Professor Dumbledore's office before. As he opened the door he gaped around him in fascination. Even growing up aware of magic and surrounded by instruments of sorcery couldn't prepare him for the assortment of peculiar gadgets in this room. He'd never seen a real, live phoenix before, either; just the stuffed one that his Uncle Judas kept in his study. He stared, mesmerised, as the swan-sized red and gold bird stretched out its wings and trilled a sweet, haunting song. The sound calmed him, and he found himself quite composed when a voice from the other side of the room greeted him.

'What can I do for you, Draco?'

He looked up in surprise. The Headmaster had never directly addressed him before, and he hadn't expected him to use his first name. Not that he minded, in fact he instantly felt even more relaxed. Deep down he'd always been a bit wary of Dumbledore, and he was pleasantly surprised to find him so approachable. The Professor sat behind his massive desk, eyes twinkling over those ridiculous half-moon spectacles, and gestured to Draco to take a seat.

Feeling as if he was about to jump off a tall building, where there may or may not be someone waiting at the bottom to catch him, Draco did so.

Dumbledore rested his elbows on the desk and placed the tips of his fingers lightly together. He smiled encouragingly but didn't speak. Draco realised that he was expected to say something. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. He cleared his throat and clenched his fists in his lap. Taking a deep breath he managed to stutter, 'I have...umm... I mean there's...'

'I often find,' interrupted Dumbledore, 'that when one is struggling to find the right words it helps to have a nice drink at hand. It occupies the mouth while the brain is otherwise engaged.'

With that he twirled his wand and transfigured a quill into a large mug of Butterbeer. Draco stared at it for a moment, unsure whether transfigured beverages were safe to drink.

'Go ahead, help yourself,' said Dumbledore. Seeing Draco's doubtful expression he added 'Oh, don't worry. I never liked that quill much. Left ink blots all over the place and leaked in the pocket of my favourite dressing gown.'

Draco picked up the mug and sipped tentatively. The warm, fragrant liquid slipped down his throat like nectar. His tongue seemed to untie and he sighed with relief.

Dumbledore smiled. 'Wonderful stuff, Butterbeer. Warms the heart and oils the cogs of the mind.'

'Aren't you having any, Professor?' asked Draco, between mouthfuls.

'Sadly no. I'm afraid it gives me terrible wind.'

Draco snorted, and choked slightly as a drop of Butterbeer went down the wrong way. He put down the mug and wiped his mouth, a new respect for Dumbledore beginning to blossom. It was amazing how quickly the Headmaster had managed to put him at ease. It wasn't hard to see why so many people were prepared to follow him without question.

Without realising that he was ready, Draco began to speak. 'Professor, there's a plot to attack Harry Potter. This Saturday, at the Three Broomsticks.' He extracted his Father's letter from his robes and turned it over and over in his hands as he talked. 'I don't know what the plan is exactly, but I think they're going to kidnap him.'

'They?' replied Dumbledore, expressionless.

'Dark Wizards...Voldemort's supporters.' Draco gulped. 'Death Eaters.'

'I see.' Dumbledore looked at him thoughtfully, but made no further comment. They sat in silence for a few moments before Draco got to his feet impatiently.

'Professor, did you hear me? Harry's in danger!' He thrust the letter in front of Dumbledore's nose. 'If you don't believe me here's proof. They're coming for him at two o'clock on Saturday!'