Ex-Friends || A Drarry Story

One : Fourteen

Even in years to come, Draco would convince himself that he had only gone after the Philosopher's Stone for the glory of Slytherin. But that was a blatant lie, only to be seen through by Harry Potter three years later.

He and Hermione Granger found Dumbledore quickly, as he must have been walking back from wherever he hid the Mirror of Erised. "Professor Dumbledore!" Granger panted, and Draco rolled his eyes.

The old man turned, his cold blue eyes serious as he asked, "What has happened, Miss Granger?"

"Harry's gone after whoever's trying to steal the Stone!"

In between them, Ron Weasley groaned. Dumbledore looked at him. "Come with me."

He led them to the Hospital Wing, calling for Madam Pomfrey and helping Granger and Draco lay the redhead down on a cot. He told them once Madam Pomfrey had appeared, "Follow me to my office."

Draco's stomach twisted and he felt like running away. He did not want to be in the same room as Dumbledore, especially behind closed doors. He would much rather be tortured by the Dark Lord himself.

The Dark Lord. . .

Draco followed the old man reluctantly and, finally, they made it up to his office. Draco wasn't surprised to find it just as noisy as the last time he was there.

"Sit," Dumbledore ordered, but it sounded kind, more of a suggestion. But Draco knew that if he were to refuse, he would be forced to sit. "Tell me what happened."

And Granger did, reminding Draco of a gopher as she bounced on the edge of her seat. Silently, Draco sunk low into his chair, listening and trying not to bite his thumbnail in worry for Harry Potter.

"And, Draco," said Dumbledore suddenly, jarring Draco from his anxious thoughts, "what did you and Harry do after leaving Miss Granger and Mister Weasley?"

"I unravelled Snape's little riddle."

"And you gave Harry. . .?"

Draco scoffed. "Obviously, I gave him the potion that would let him move forward."

"But why?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling even though Draco didn't find this amusing. "Surely, you would have wanted to continue as well, correct?"

"I changed my mind."

"Ah, I can understand that," the man said.

Narrowing his silver eyes, Draco ordered, his voice trembling with anger, "What do you mean, you old sot?" Hermione gasped. "Go on, tell it how it is. Why do you think I turned around?"

Dumbledore folded his hands, merely watching Draco. After a few silent, tense moments, he replied smoothly, "I think you know the answer to that, Draco."

"Then share with the class."

"You," Dumbledore said, "were afraid."

"Sure," Draco sneered. "I sure am terrified. Quivering with fear."

Hermione hissed, "Malfoy!"

A smile twitched Dumbledore's lips, making Draco's jaw twitch in anger. He stood, saying, "Don't recognize me for helping. I'd rather die than be named alongside Muggle-lovers like them." He turned on his heel, walking to the door.

"Fifty points to Slytherin, Mister Malfoy. Because of you, Harry Potter may be able to stop Voldemort again."

Draco stopped. He faced the old man. It was all coming together. He left quickly, seeing that it was nearly four in the morning as he jogged down to the Slytherin dormitories, changing out of his ruined clothes and going into the washroom, seeing that he had dried blood all over one of his cheeks and on his temple. His pale hands were scratched from those flying keys as well.