Miss Slytherin

Book 6: Chapter 24

Dumbledore was weak, Harry already knew that before they went into that crystal cave and got out one of seven Horcruxes. But he never knew how weak the great headmaster was until the moment they arrived back in the Astronomy tower barely standing upright, he struggled to keep Dumbledore standing having them sway all over the place until he could have him sit down. "We need to get you to the Hospital Wing, sir," Harry huffed as he tried to check if Dumbledore had gone any paler than the last time he checked. "Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey—"

"No," Dumbledore muttered, breathing heavily as if he had run for half his life, his voice raspy as if he had not drank any water in years. "Severus. Severus is the one I need," he tells Harry, causing the boy to grow confused yet he hadn't attempted to question him.

"Wake him. Tell him what happened," Dumbledore instructs Harry, patting the boy's shoulder. "Speak to no one else."

'Speak to no one,' Harry thought, his heart hammered against his chest, his shoulders feeling heavier knowing that this was one request that he shall never attempt to disobey.

"Severus, Harry," Dumbledore tells him again, snapping the boy from his momentary thoughts, having him focus on getting to the potions master and pausing. Footsteps. He hears footsteps.

He turns to Dumbledore who froze for a second before standing on his own, he could see the panic in the Headmaster's eyes before it was masked by something neutral and calm. He was hiding the fact that he was injured, that he was weak. "Hide yourself below, Harry," the headmaster orders him.

"Don't speak or be seen by anybody without my permission," the headmaster tells him, "whatever happens, you must stay below."

'Should I?' Harry thought. He was unsure if that was the right choice, even if Dumbledore was a powerful wizard, his state would hinder him from ever defending himself. "Harry, do as I say, trust me," Dumbledore orders him again.

This time, Harry reluctantly follows, scurrying down the steps and under the metal spiraling steps where he could still see a fraction of what was to come.

The footsteps kept on coming, as Harry's thoughts remained wild with the ideas of who it was going to be. Could it be Slughorn? Snape? Maybe McGonagall?

'Finley?' He thought to himself, the idea of his sister coming up to argue with the headmaster for whatever trivial reason. Though he knows that deep inside he knew that Finley would argue with anyone regardless of their authority.

"Good evening, Draco," Dumbledore's voice echoed in the tower, catching Harry's attention. Forced him to pay attention to the sight of black slacks and ragged breathing in the room. "What brings you here on this fine spring evening?"

"Who else is here?" Draco spat tensely, "I heard you talking."

"I often talk aloud to myself. I find it extraordinarily useful," Dumbledore tried to jest and paused seeing how it only worsened the young blond's stature. "Have you been whispering to yourself, Draco?"

Draco looked at Dumbledore confused, his wand still pointed at the seemingly defenseless old man.

"Miss Potter also had the knack of talking to herself too you see."

"Keep her name of this," Draco snapped, glaring at the old man. "Whatever it was that you gave her in the tournament, she ended up dead."

"Draco," Dumbledore calmly calls him, "you are no assassin."

"How do you know what I am?" Draco snaps again, his hand weakening yet he kept a firm grip on his wand. "I've done things that would shock you."

"Like cursing Katie Bell and hoping that in return she's bear a cursed necklace to me?" Dumbledore mentions, causing the blond boy to freeze up, and Harry swallows a lump in his throat.