Dispassionate (Draco Malfoy)

Chapter 9

"Miss Lockhart, you are telling me that you have visions of a future Draco in risky situations..."

"Yes, Professor," April responded politely with a nod of her head.

Professor Dumbledore rested his head atop of his hands, which were clasped together at the palms. "If you wouldn't mind, Miss Lockhart, I would like for you to put these visions in the Pensieve."

"The Pensieve?"

"It holds memories," Dumbledore explained curtly as he flicked his wrist, the Pensieve moving forward. Above it were hundreds of blue glowing vials with small hand-printed names on them.

"These are memories of...?" April questioned.

"Many," Albus Dumbledore told her. He had no interest in giving her further information about what was held by the Pensieve.

"I see," April said. She was confused as to why the old professor was withholding such information, but who would doubt a man like Dumbledore?

Dumbledore showed April the incantations and within no time, the man's face was submerged with water. He was seeing exactly what April had saw.

He rose with panic.

"April, I'm afraid that what you've been seeing is very valuable information," Dumbledore sighed, dismissing the Pensieve and heading back over to his large desk. April's forest-like eyes darted across the room, searching for something else to focus on, from books to the floor.

"I don't think I understand, Professor."

"If you have any more of these visions, Miss Lockhart, you must see me at once," Dumbledore informed her. April realised the importance and severity of the situation and nodded hurriedly. Panic was rising in her chest as fast as a stream. "For now, I will give you vials."

He swished his hand and down floated three vials from the top corner of the room. April took them gratefully, silently thanking the headmaster with a look. Dumbledore grinned at her.

"You should report back to me as soon as possible, April," he said before he waved her off.

April trudged back to the Slytherin common room, unsure of where she stood now. What did her dreams; visions, whatever they were, mean? Why was she seeing them? Why Draco?

When she arrived, Draco was sat there waiting.

"You told him?" He asked gently, but abruptly. He stalked over to April and took her hand, leading her to one of the armchairs. He pushed her body down into it. April's clouded eyes looked up at him and she gasped in panic, unsure of Draco's intentions, but her voice was stilled when he kneeled down in front of her.

"Yeah. He's going to help me, but there's no way I can stop them. If there is he didn't mention it," April murmured, watching Draco's eyes follow her as she tilted her head up to the ceiling. "I apologise for not being able to tell you much more."

Draco almost, just almost, shared a soft grin with her. His words were just as gentle, "That's quite alright, I imagine it's for the best if it's a matter even Dumbledore's taking into his hands."

April shot up in her seat, a cloak of fallen leaves gripping at her shoulders. Draco almost reached out as if to touch the mess of her hair but retracted his hand at the very last moment. The fire next to them crackled, almost as if it sensed the passion shared between the two. Neither of them knew what it was, or what their feelings entailed, but they knew they were sure to be connected through April's visions. 

"I want to help."

Springing up, April responded, "Uh- you? You want to help me?"

"Yes, of course," Draco snickered. He placed a hand on the back of his head, his fingers just tickling the strands of his flaxen hair. An aura of nervousness was emitting from him; all too easy for April to sense.

"Why?"

The same question that April had a feeling she'd be conducting often during her encounters with Draco. She didn't mind, really. He was good company. At least, she thought so in comparison to her roommates who only appeared to take interest in her pet.

"Crap," April muttered. Like a madman being chased, she sprinted up the stairs with ease, and returned seconds later with a ball of fluff enclosed in her fingers. 

"What in the name of Salazar is that?" Draco inquired, poking a finger at it. It let out a gentle hum. Rolling in April's hands, two pairs of widened eyes blinked at the male wizard present.

April let out a quiet giggle. She told him, "Alverna, my Puffskein."

"A Puff..."

"Puffskein. I thought you were clever," April teased, most likely referring to his previous incident of being picked on by Slughorn but still getting the answer correct. She added, "They're related to Pygmy Puffs, you know."

The little ball showed Draco its long tongue and he stepped back, although his expression was filled with curiosity. April gestured. Draco presented a pale hand to the animal. It reciprocated with a lick to his index finger. 

"Cute," April joked, petting Alverna's head.

"Why did you rush off like that?" Draco asked. His eyes reflected some feeling. Their colour was like sunshine on a shallow lake. So transparent, yet April just couldn't quite read him yet.

"I didn't want her to eat any more of my homework," April told him. With a titter, she forced out another attempt at jest. "I almost had a case of 'my pet ate my homework', huh?"

He chuckled. Of course, Draco didn't quite understand the mainly muggle joke, nor was he compassionate enough to own anything other than an owl. However, he felt a certain softness towards the little creature in front of him. Perhaps it was because of her sweet yet perplexing owner...