Chapter 14
"Mr Malfoy, shall we?" Dumbledore appeared before him suddenly, not showing any signs of surprise at finding him there.
Draco was so stuck in his thoughts he neither saw nor heard him approach.
The Headmaster pointed his wand - the wand Draco took from him once - at the wall of purple flames, which parted to let them through.
He waited patiently for Draco to scramble up and follow.
He scarcely had a moment to look around the next room.
It was a tiny space in comparison to all previous chambers.
A long table stood by one of the walls with seven unique bottles on it.
The smallest of them was open and empty, lying discarded on its side.
As he looked around, Dumbledore parted the second, black wall of fire.
It was eerily quiet. The first thing that drew Draco's eye was a large, decorative mirror in the centre of the room.
He wondered what the significance of it being there was, as his gaze fell on a dark shape.
He didn't know from Weasley's gossip whether Quirrell died or was quietly let go in his past, but the badly burnt body, wrapped in the teacher's robes, lying morbidly still gave him a clear answer.
So that had to mean... Draco stumbled further into the chamber.
Potter lay partially obfuscated by the corpse.
Draco wasn't sure how he managed to reach the boy.
His legs felt like he was hit with a nasty Jelly-legs Jinx.
In a flash he found himself kneeling down beside Potter, hesitantly checking for a pulse.
He almost collapsed with relief feeling a faint beat in his wrist and was equally grateful not to see a bleeding head wound this time.
As he let go, Potter's curled hand relaxed, revealing something blood red and glassy.
The Philosopher's Stone!
Draco pried his hand open and grasped the rock.
It felt surprisingly cool to the touch. He held it up to the light, and was disappointed to find it looked no better than a cheap, unpolished and uncut ruby.
Nothing about its appearance suggested the power within.
"All this trouble for one ugly stone?" He mocked, forgetting he no longer had only a cat for an audience.
Dumbledore simply chuckled in response as he slowly walked over and stretched out a hand.
Draco dropped the Stone onto his palm, glad it was over.
It was just a little rock, yet Quirrell died for it in agony, he remembered.
He died for a chance to return the Dark Lord to power.
Potter, Weasley, Granger - even Longbottom had he been there.
.. All of them could have died for this Stone, to stop what seemed inevitable.
It wasn't the last time they would have to face against the Dark Lord, he was certain.
"Next time, I won't be late." He was shocked to hear himself sound so earnest, as he gripped Potter's limp hand.
"Next time?" Draco's confession brought a shine to Dumbledore's eyes with the sort of amusement only the well-lived and wise could show. Absurdly, it made him feel both reassured and clueless, as if he was missing the joke while being the butt of it.
He thought about the rash statement a little longer as the Headmaster walked towards the mirror.
Yes, he did mean it.
He had to cease pretending to be uninvolved with the efforts of the rebellion against the Dark Lord.
Voldemort, he corrected his thoughts with a shudder.
Unless he made this choice, he'd continue missing out on important information and opportunities to truly make a difference to this timeline.
Draco had to put his whole heart into it.
"It is admirable to see you so motivated to ease Mr. Potter's burden.
.. yes, indeed. However, nothing in my not-so-humble opinion can compare to a well of experience.
We cannot protect him from harm. Pain must and will come, for without it how should we ever learn?
" He spoke cryptically while pulling a heavy fabric over the golden frame of the mirror.
He didn't know what he was supposed to read between these lines, if there even was something for him to find there.
Did Dumbledore figure out he wasn't the first year he should have been?
Was all this trouble over the Philosopher's Stone set up by him to challenge the Gryffindors?
Had Dumbledore truly begun preparing Potter for war from the start?
There were no answers available and he didn't expect to find some anytime soon.
Draco brushed off Pansy's concern as much as he could the next day, when gossip of previous night's events began to spread through the school.
Apparently, Potter was still asleep, but Weasley would be discharged that evening.
The excitement and racing thoughts kept him up long after Professor Dumbledore escorted him to the Slytherin dormitory, so he slept through breakfast. After a hurried lunch, he decided to visit the Hospital Wing to hear about everything that happened without him directly from the horse's mouth, and recount what he saw in kind.
"Professor Dumbledore passed us by on the first floor, before we could get to the Owlery. He asked if Harry is down there already, and left." Granger described.
"That old man knows much more than he'd like you to think. It's creepy." He commented.
"Do you reckon he knew about Quirrell and You-Know-Who the whole time?" Weasley sat up in his bed, incredulous.
"And let him teach and live with us all this whole time? No way!" Granger gasped.
"Absolutely." Draco answered at the same time.
They quickly moved on to talking about what Draco found in the last chamber, as they raided the stack of sweets on Potter's bedside table. Weasley recognised the mysterious mirror as one he caught Harry obsessing over at Christmas - apparently it showed someone the deepest desire of their heart.
"So, what did you see in it?"
"... I didn't look." The ginger tried to lie, poorly. His ears were turning red.
"Weasley, let's be honest. I don't think even Longbottom would let you get away with that lie."
"Oh, fine. But you can't laugh!" Weasley waved his finger threateningly.
"I saw myself. I was Head Boy and Quidditch captain - we won the Cup as well.
All my brothers would be jealous if I could do that.
Hey, at least mine's possible. Harry just saw all of his family, and he can't even meet them without going back in time, can he? "
Granger whacked him with a book and told him off for making fun of Potter's situation.
Draco didn't laugh, but not because he wasn't amused.
He wondered if there was a reason Dumbledore hid the mirror under heavy fabric, when it had already served its purpose.
Did he deliberately stop Draco looking into it? And if so, why?
"So after all the theatrics over protecting it, Flamel decided to destroy the Stone?" He couldn't believe it when Granger passed on what the Headmaster told her. "How pathetic, and completely obnoxious... What a waste of my time!"
"Your time? I don't remember you solving riddles or fighting chess pieces." Weasley complained.
"He did help with getting you here in once piece."
"Right, right..." He conceded.
"It's okay, Weasley. I know you're secretly grateful that I kept whatever brains you have inside your skull. Wouldn't it be nice if It counted as a life debt?"
"No way. Don't even joke about it, Fred and George would have a field day!"
He left before Potter could wake, with more questions than answers on his mind, and headed to the lake.
It was becoming one of his favourite places to organise his thoughts and feelings.
To his surprise, he found Longbottom already there, petting the cat, unaware that it was responsible for almost killing his toad.
"Draco! I mean... Erm, Malfoy. I'm glad you're okay. I heard - Ron said you went after them to help last night, even though they didn't ask you to. I don't know how you found out, but - but I think that's really great!"
"Were you waiting just to tell me this?" He wasn't sure what to say.
Longbottom fiddled with his sleeve, stalling.
"Yes, I knew I'd find you here. Thank you, again. I didn't even get to ask for a favour this time, but it feels like I still owe you."
"Don't thank me, I didn't do anything." He brushed it off. "Potter caught Quirrell all by himself, and the others did their parts. I got there too late."
"I'm sure you did enough." He said with enough conviction to stun Draco.
He couldn't get used to the faithful support and validation Longbottom dispensed for him generously.
It was entirely different to the loyalty Crabbe and Goyle showed him.
Their parents wanted them to be close, and he knew from the past that the moment the Malfoy name lost power, they could turn on him.
In short, unless something changed they were only using each other.
"Granger said you suggested they take me along. Did you try to stop them yourself this time?" He asked, eager to move on.
"Yeah. I tried to keep them in the common room, but they didn't listen at all! Hermione petrified me for half the night. She said sorry, of course, but it still wasn't very nice of her..."
"I think Potter and Weasley are a terrible influence on her." Draco agreed.