Golden Girl (reader x Draco x Cedric)

♡ 20 | Deal

"Acid Pops," you say, recalling the password Madam Maxime shared with you.

The gargoyle leaps aside, revealing the spiral staircase leading to the headmaster's office. You climb the stairs, your mind swirling with thoughts about Cedric, Draco, and the complex emotions entangled in your heart.

Upon reaching the top, you find the door ajar. You knock gently before entering.

Inside, the room is a fascinating blend of magic and history. Curious silver instruments whir and emit puffs of smoke, while portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses snooze gently on the walls. A large, claw-footed desk dominates the space, and on a shelf behind it sits the Sorting Hat, a shabby but revered artifact from Hogwarts' past.

You hesitate, eyeing the Sorting Hat with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, fidgeting with Cedric's pendant, a nervous habit of yours. Would it reveal something about your destiny? The temptation to try it on is strong, but you resist, sensing a watchful presence in the room.

Before you can ponder further, the door opens, and Dumbledore enters, his vibrant phoenix companion perched on his shoulder.

"Good day to you, Miss Y/L/N," Dumbledore greets you warmly, settling behind his desk.

"T-Thank you," you stammer, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation. "I understand you wanted to have a word with me?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkle knowingly as he observes your demeanor. "Yes, indeed, my dear. It's not every day a student from Beauxbatons seeks counsel from the headmaster of their Triwizard Tournament competitor. But all in good fun, I assure you."

You blush, feeling a bit embarrassed by your impulsive request. "I... I was rude to Cedric at the welcoming feast, but I didn't mean-"

Dumbledore raises a hand, his expression gentle. "No need to explain, Miss Y/L/N. We are all subject to moments of folly and misjudgment. You seem to have more than made up for it, to Mr. Diggory in particular."

"Thank you," you murmur, feeling a sense of relief at his understanding.

"Now, tell me, how may I assist you?" Dumbledore's voice is calm and reassuring, encouraging you to share whatever is on your mind.

You take a deep, shaky breath, your palm clammy as you steel yourself to reveal the weighty secret that has been weighing on your conscience.

"Sir," you begin, your voice trembling slightly with the gravity of your words. "What I am about to share with you... It is of great importance. Detrimental to the fate of the wizarding world."

Dumbledore's eyes widen slightly, his gaze fixed intently on you as he listens.

"However," you continue, your tone firm and resolute, "This secret cannot leave this room... No matter what."

Dumbledore nods solemnly, understanding the gravity of your request. "I assure you, Miss Y/L/N, the confidentiality of this conversation will be upheld to the highest degree. You may speak freely."

"One of your students..." your own voice seems foreign to you "...is a Death Eater."

Dumbledore's expression remains composed, though his eyes betray a hint of concern. "I see," he murmurs, his voice calm and steady. "And would I be correct to presume that this student is..." his eyes meet yours, as if knowing "Draco Malfoy?"

You gulp, shifting uncomfortably. "I don't want him to get in trouble. He was forced into it by his parents - sir, you're the only one who can help him. Keep him safe."

"Miss Y/L/N, I-"

"And not just from the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who," you say, your voice shaking as you clench your dress in fistfuls. "From himself too. His breakdown... it makes me worry he'll hurt himself out of guilt. But above all, I want you to prevent him from harming anyone. From using..." you catch your breath "...the Unforgivable Curses. From tainting his soul. I know Draco, sir, he'll cave to his parents' and the Death Eaters' pressure and do it but... he'll hate himself for the rest of his life."

You take a deep breath, your voice cracking. "Please... save him from that."

Dumbledore listens intently, his expression softening as he absorbs your words. "Miss Y/L/N," he begins, his tone gentle yet firm, "I understand your concern, and I assure you, I will do everything within my power to help Mr. Malfoy."

You bite your lip, reaching for Cedric's pendant. Moment of truth "So...What are you going to? Ar you going to turn him over the Ministry?"

"No." Dumbledore says instantly, his expression kind. "As I promised, this conversation will not leave these walls. I will handle it discreetly. It's important that we approach it with caution and care, for the sake of everyone involved."

You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful for Dumbledore's assurance. "Thank you, Professor," you say, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders "Thank you so much."

"You are very welcome," his smile puts your at very ease. But then, his expression darkens, becoming serious "Miss Y/L/N, May I trust you with a task?"

"Offcourse sir. Anything."

"I understand that you are close to all four champions," Dumbledore says "You are..." he bites his lip " 'friends' with Mr. Diggory, friends with Miss Dellacour and Mr. Potter, friends with Miss Granger who is, shall we say, on friendly terms with Mr. Krum."

Dumbledore's words catch you off guard, and you nod slowly, sensing the weight of his request. "Yes, Professor, I am acquainted with all of them," you confirm, your mind racing with possibilities.

"I need you to keep a vigilant eye on them," Dumbledore continues, his tone grave. "With the dark mark being cast at the Quidditch World Cup, the attack of the Death Eaters, Barty Crouch Sr. going missing, and now the news with Mr. Malfoy... I fear that they may be in danger. That the Death Eaters may act through them-"

"-you mean treachery?" you interject, a chill running down your spine. "No...No, you mean the Imperius Curse."

"Indeed," Dumbledore confirms, his expression serious. "I will keep Mr. Malfoy safe if you help me keep Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang safe." He extends his hand.

You swallow hard, realizing the gravity of Dumbledore's request, and shake his hand firmly. "I'll do whatever it takes, Professor," you respond, determination burning in your eyes. "I won't let anything happen to them."