In Love & Hatred - Dramione

Chapter 10- Dread

Draco

'Silly', Draco scoffed to himself.

There weren't many times in his memory he could recount in feeling as giddy as a school boy. Much preparation wasn't needed as the Room of Requirement provided everything possible befitting one's desire. As a precaution, there were a few incantations Draco had mastered to make the evening more enchanting. Frequent scouting of the entrance gave him the assurance he needed that the room would be accessible for the weekend. No doubt the room remained a mystery to most of the students in the school as it should be. Misuse was dangerous and so effortless in an area with a mind of its own.

Quidditch try outs would be set to begin the next week. Quite some time had passed since he had played for the house team. Dominating Harry as Seeker was the sole motivation he needed to train. Perhaps auditioning for a position on the team would be as freeing as he remembered. Not many people had an affinity for flying but Draco took to the air like a newly liberated bird. Just ahead in the corridor stood a glass cabinet against the wall. Inside of the illuminated case sat rows of golden and brass shields. Each piece was encrusted with the insignia of each house circled with a series of names. Scanning each unknown name brought him to one he recognized. James Potter. This one had to be the very same as the father of Harry. Draco had heard the name spoken so many times in his first year it was burned in his memory. He hated to admit it, but, Potter had a natural talent for flying undoubtedly inherited from his father.

Draco traced the tip of his index finger over the glass eyeing his predecessors when he heard quick footsteps ring closer to him. A smile curled into the corner of his mouth almost sure it was Hermione coming to take revenge on startling her the other night.

"Mr. Malfoy!", the feminine voice called to him.

His head turned to peer over his shoulder to see the figure of the Headmistress McGonagall gliding in his direction. The smile disappeared from his face replaced with confusion.

"Afternoon, Professor."

"Mr. Malfoy, I require you in my office immediately. I will explain further."

"Professor, is there something wrong?"

Confusion was soon mixed with worry as McGonagall's face matched his worry and look of stern determination.

"Please, Draco, head straight to my office and I will meet you there in just a few moment's time. The password is 'sherbet lemon'."

Obeying the Headmistress' request, Draco turned to the direction of the Headmaster's tower. Before long, he found himself in front of the towering gargoyle guarding the entrance.

"Sherbet lemon."

Life sprung into the grotesque gargoyle and leapt out of the archway to reveal an ascending staircase. At the top of the steps, solid wooden doors protected the Headmaster's office and living quarters. Draco had only been inside of the office a few times while Dumbledore was head of the school. Memory serves that he kept a series of small silver instruments atop of the various tables scattered throughout the room. Some of the silver structures spun, some whirled or hummed and a few spat small puffs of smoke. Now that McGonagall is Headmistress, only a few of the instruments remained while the others were replaced with small objects transforming into their counterparts and back again. Soft music laced itself in the air that hung above his head. A baroque harp vibrated it's strings harmoniously radiating the gentle music that calmed the worried aura.

Shelves and bookcases had been filled with neatly aligned tomes of ancient and foreign languages. In a far corner of the office sat an empty perch that once housed Fawkes the Phoenix belonging to Dumbledore. Phoenix birds were extraordinary and peculiar creatures that have the ability to be reborn in their own ash. Only one owner can claim a Phoenix, after death, the fiery bird leaves singing a beautiful song never to be recaptured again. Guilt swept over Draco in remembrance that the series of horrid events were set in motion after his mission to assassinate the Headmaster. His hand gripped the top corner of the wing-backed chair posed in front of the desk. On the wall behind the office desk perched the largest of the Headmaster's frames. The bottom of the portrait contained a small plaque reading 'Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore'. Emptiness encompassed the portrait and relief washed over Draco's senses. Not enough time had passed to forgive himself the atrocity.