A thin smile came to Draco's face as he saw Albus Dumbledore enter the hallway.
Running up to the aged wizard he cleared his throat, and as respectfully as he could, he asked, "Professor Dumbledore, may I have a moment of your time."
While he still had nothing but contempt for the professor's muggle loving way, he knew that the best way to get wanted was to be respectful and open minded in front of the old man.
"Yes, Mister Malfoy?" Dumbledore replied warmly, but with a slight level of distance. "How my I help you."
"I need to ask you about someone," Draco replied, somewhat curtly.
"Who do you want to ask about?" the professor asked with a amused twinkle in his eyes.
Draco looked at the occupied hallway and glanced back to the professor. "Headmaster Dumbledore. I don't think I should ask in public."
The Headmaster looked positively amused at the young man's antics.
"Nonsense," the old man replied with a smile, "What is so important that you must request secrecy?
If anyone else hear his asking Dumbledore about Lord Voldemort, then he'd be in real trouble.
Suddenly Draco shook as if a chill had just climbed up his spine as Dumbledore gazed deeply into his eyes.
In a much cooler voice, the Headmaster replied, "Actually, maybe you're right. Please follow me."
Draco shuddered slightly, the warm old man was beginning to make him feel very uncomfortable, like a nameless sense of dread had just overcome him. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
Dumbledore began to walk through the halls, Draco in tow before reaching what appeared to be a dead end in the wall marked by a gargoyle.
"Lemon Drop," the old man said in a relaxed tone. Suddenly, the Gargoyle began to lift and a stairwell appeared.
Draco was somewhat stunned. The Headmaster's office!
"Please come up," Dumbledore stated.
With a nod, Draco began to follow up the stairs. He marveled at the office. It was full of many amazing magical artifacts, but that was to be expected now wasn't it.
Dumbledore sat down and looked Draco in the eyes once more. "Please, sit."
Draco quickly sat. He had a feeling that it had not been a request.
"Now, who is it you would like to ask about?" Dumbledore asked, but Draco had his sick feeling that the old man already knew what it was he was going to ask.
Draco gulped, but steeling his mental, he asked, "Tell me about Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was a student here, wasn't he?"
"Yes, yes he was," Dumbeldore answered coolly. "Now why is it you are so interested in an old student?"
"Is it true that Tom Riddle is Lord Voldemort?" He asked.
"Yes, that’s what Tom began to call himself after he left school, in fact the name its self is an anagram, I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. Now answer my question, Mister Malfoy. How do you know that name, and why are you interested?"
Draco scoffed, "My father was a Death Eater. I've heard the name before."
What he didn't mention was that he mad the connection based on some old school supplies that his father owned and told him never to touch as they'd belonged to the Dark Lord marked with said name. It had been a long shot but it had always confused him why the Dark Lord would have had school books with such a Muggle sounding name on them.
Dumbledore nodded, "Anything else you want to know?"
Darco inhaled deeply. It was something he'd heard mentioned once or twice before but had always dismissed as pure slander… but now he felt like it needed to be asked.
"Was Tom Riddle a pureblood or wasn't he?"
"No, he wasn't," the old man replied, "In fact, his father was a muggle."
Draco reeled as if he had been punched. Lord Voldemort was a Half Blood. The words shattered Draco's entire world. He felt sick.
"Excuse me, but I feel I must be going," Draco managed to crack out.
The old man affect returned to the warm and kind grandfatherly figure he usually projected. "Very well, you may go Mister Malfoy, but before you go…"
"Yes?"
"Would you fancy a lemon drop?"
"I'm fine," he all but hissed in response as he left the room.
Draco stmbeled down the steps and began to walk blindly forward, clenching a railing for support. Tears streamed from his eyes, his breath labored, and his face was bright red with rage as he considered the truth.
It was a lie. All of it was a lie, everything he had ever been taught was a lie. Lord Voldemort's ideal of Pure bloods ruling was pure fiction. It was never about blood purity, it was about one wizards quest for power. All about power, blood purity was just a candy coating for the truth. Lord Voldemort ruled his Death Eater stooges through fear, using the promise of power to convince them to follow him, and the idea that dirty muggles should have nothing to do with the wizarding world to unite them… but he was nothing more than a dirty half-blood with a muggle father! He lied to and controlled his death eaters the same way Draco's own father had tried to control him!
Draco sneered. He finally had seen the truth. Blood purity was important, yes, he would never disagree with that, but there seemed to be something stronger, something much more dangerous.
He laughed darkly as he saw a group begin to ascend the steps below him.
The secret was POWER. All this were second to power. He laughed once more. He was Draco Malfoy, the scion of a proud wizarding family with a history that reached back before recorded history! He would NEVER bow down to an arrogant half-blood with aspirations for world domination! He would never serve anyone!
His eyes locked onto the platinum haired girl in the center of the group below him. Integra Hellsing. She was a mudblood, true, but she possessed something more important than blood purity. One only had to look over to the side at Ronald Weasley to see this fact.
She had power, the true force behind Voldemort and the true force that drove the world.
He would make nice-nice with the little mudblood, but not because his father said so, but because he needed powerful allies. He would destroy his father, and she had the power to do so.
On the steps below, Harry and his friends looked upwards in confusion as they heard a mad, megalomaniacal sounding laugh coming from above.
"What in the bloody hell was that?" Ron wondered out loud.
"Sounded like something out of a bad horror movie," Hermione replied.
"Sounded like Draco Malfoy," Integra remarked.
Harry shook his head, "I don't know what it sounded like, but I know one thing. I don't like the sound of it."
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(Posted Sat, 19 Feb 2005 22:49)
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