NEMESIS || Draco Malfoy

53

My heart was beating against my chest as if I just ran and won a marathon. Irregular, fast, and loud enough for it to be the only thing I could focus on.

Steps slow, I wandered further into the office, an odd feeling of uneasiness creeping up my back, knowing students were not supposed to be in here by themselves.

In my case, Dumbledore could hardly punish me. He was dead, after all. Killed by me.

The office was empty, not a single detail looking different from the last time I was here. On his desk, though, my own little gift caught my attention; the unwrapped box stood on the hardwood of his table while my music box rested right next to it.

It was open, showcasing the beautiful inside of it, and I felt giddy at what that meant.

"Ah," The singular sound made me startle, hand flying up to my chest as my back straightened all on its own. "I see you've let yourself in."

My face contorted in complete horror, head shooting to my right. My breath had hitched, breathing heavier than I think it's ever been before as I stared right back at the grey-haired, bearded man stood in the doorway of another door.

Blankly, I blinked at him, unsure of what to do, how to react or explain the emotions I was going through right now.

I felt sick.

And for a moment, I was afraid I'd throw up right onto his floor.

I didn't.

"Miss Hayes?" I wasn't sure if a voice could snap you out of it at the same time as it made your spiralling thoughts spiral faster. It felt like his did.

And I simply couldn't divert my eyes from him, couldn't move— felt like I couldn't even blink. Because that meant I'd had to accept the current situation.

Accept it and move forward; deal with it.

I wasn't sure if I could.

Dumbledore stared right back at me, brows furrowing slightly as his eyes took my shaking form in. It's not like I had an ounce of control over my body at this point.

"I apologise for my being late; I had to take care of this—" His voice trailed off as his arm raised slowly, the motion catching my attention as my eyes flickered towards his hand.

Three of his fingers had gone black— completely discoloured as if they had died off; as if it was only a matter of time until the rest of his hand would.

Though it looked truly awful, he waved me off like it was nothing, continuing to wrap the half-wrapped bandage around it as he moved towards his desk. "But then it seems I forgot the time— and our appointment," He continued, looking back at me, still standing in the same spot and still looking in the same direction even if he was long gone.

"I apologise for that," He said.

Blinking once, my eyes widened as I turned towards him, finding him stood by his desk and gesturing for me to sit on the chair opposite him.

"I apologise—" I blurted out as I hurried towards the desk myself, swallowing thickly at the questioning look he sent me as he sat behind the table, and I took a seat on the opposite side of it.

"Oh, nonsense," Dumbledore quickly interrupted, waving me off once more, his hand fully bandaged this time. "For what—?" He asked, not waiting for me to reply to his query.

There were a few things I had good reason to apologise for.

"Either way," He continued. "I'm glad you've asked to see me, Adreanna. I have to admit; I was a little surprised." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, head tilting slightly as the words escaped his mouth.

I only nodded, unable to quirk my lips upwards into a courtesy smile. Instead, I broke our eye contact, gaze roaming the no doubt impressive office of his.

At the lingering silence, he cleared his throat, and I could see his eyes narrowing and brows furrowing as he studied me. "Well," He shrugged, finally diverting his attention onto the one thing I wanted to talk about less than myself. "I stumbled across this box in front of my office—" He said, gesturing towards the gift box before holding the music box — my music box — out to me. "You wouldn't happen to know who left it here, do you?"

My eyes widened at the question, head cocking back in his direction. "What?" I asked hastily, trying my best not to make the panic flaring up within me prominent. "No. I don't, sir." I swallowed thickly, head shaking vigorously.

As Dumbledore's brows raised, he set the music box down beside him. And the sight aggravated me— treating it like a mere decorative item after I had spent months on months in order to curse it.

Shaking my head to get rid of the thought, my eyes flickered back up to his. "Why would I—?" I tried to follow up, unsure of how he could make the connection in the first place.

Though, again, all he did was wave me off with a kind smile on his lips.

"Ah, nothing—" He muttered absentmindedly. "Just a shot in the dark."

I nodded at his words, taking a deep breath while my eyes flew through the large room again. "What might be the reason for your visit, then, miss Hayes?"

I closed my eyes as I damned myself, once more unprepared as my head shot in his direction. Clueless of how I'd spin this, my eyes opened, having adjusted to the situation enough to force a smile on my lips.

"Of course," I acknowledged with a nod. "I wouldn't want to waste any more of your time, sir."

Dumbledore hummed in agreement, head tilting at my obvious stalling. "I just—" Taking another deep breath as I thought of what to say next, he took the chance to interrupt my thinking harshly.

And I never thought I'd be grateful for how much he talked, but I felt like I would be tonight.

"May I ask—"

"Please."

My eagerness — and hidden relief — was met by an amused huff, and his lips quirked upwards as his fingers played with the braid in his beard. He thought about how to approach the topic.

"You seem troubled, Adreanna." His tone of choice didn't suggest he asked anything; he merely pointed out an observation accurately.

I seemed troubled because I was troubled.

Because the reason I came here in the first place was to find Dumbledore's dead body, and instead, I'm sitting opposite him now, about to have a conversation about my feelings.

I hummed in amusement, the irony of the situation not lost on me as my eyes flickered onto his rather fragile frame sat on the other side of the desk.

"Only if you knew, sir—" I sighed, the words seemingly slipping out without warning, slightly relaxing posture stiffening at the realisation of what I had said.

"I assume that's what you're here for, then? What is it you're struggling with?"

My head shook vigorously at his words, and despite the gesture, his lips remained their slight tilt upwards— a soft smile staring right back at me.

"Oh, no—" I cut myself off as soon as his brows furrowed in confusion, and I realised I had no other reason to be here if not to talk to him about... what I was struggling with. "I mean—" I shook my head as I thought for a moment. "It's just my sister— I'm a little worried about her... grades."

A relieved exhale escaped my lips as soon as I managed to find something to talk about. And from that point on, I simply ran with it.

"Is she doing alright in her classes?" I wondered. "Gwendolyn doesn't talk much to me about it— you know how younger siblings are."

I didn't think he knew. But the words still coerced a smile out of him.

And from there on out, I managed to lie well enough for him to believe me, and for myself to have enough of a distraction before I broke down as soon as I closed the wooden door to his office behind me.