High (A Harry Potter Fanfiction--Dramione)

Three Avadas

This was so fucking surreal. Standing here in front of Dumbledore after all these months was something he had half-believed would never happen. It wasn't exactly the sort of victory he reveled in, especially since the dotty old fart just sat there fucking smiling at him like that.

"Draco, my boy. I see you've managed to put your lessons in Arithmancy to use," Dumbledore said with his eyes twinkling. "As an educator, it always thrills me to learn that the students here at Hogwarts find they're getting the most out of our fine institution."

Draco was so impatient he could have spit. Time was wasting and he needed to wrap this up before Hermione woke up. That sick fuck Greyback would love nothing more than to find the witch alone in the castle. That couldn't happen.

"And now you're here to kill me." He sighed. "I must say, Draco. Talented though you may be in Arithmancy, you could have benefited greatly from a class in strategy. A cursed necklace, really?"

Draco gaped. "I'm about to kill you, you doddering fool and all you can think to do is insult my intelligence?"

"Draco will not be killing anyone today," a cold voice drawled.

Dumbledore sighed with relief. "Severus. I can honestly say I've never been more thrilled to see you."

"I wish I could say the same, Albus."

The two men looked at each other with mutual respect and more than a bit of sadness.

"Are you ready, Albus?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I am. But first could I implore one of you to be a dear and feed Fawkes after this? I forgot before I made my way up here and he must be positively beside himself with hunger right about now."

You could have knocked Draco over with a feather. "For the actual sake of fuck, what is wrong with you?"

"Such a temper on this one, eh, Severus? You must watch that, my boy. Miss Granger herself has a stubborn disposition which will likely become even more so through the years. She will not tolerate outbursts such as that, so if you hope to live peacefully with her, one of you must compromise. And as a fellow Gryffindor, I can tell you that it will not be her."

Draco's head reeled. "You're. About. To die, you absolute lunatic. Why are you giving me advice on my love life? And how the fuck do you know about Hermione and I?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Draco, I know your mother raised you with better manners than that."

"Well I can't very well kill him when he's going on about feeding his bloody chicken and giving me advice on how to please a woman who will probably never even speak to me again."

"You will not be the one, Draco," Dumbledore interrupted. "Severus and I have discussed this."

Draco felt the familiar throb of a vein in his temple pulsing. He was also assaulted with a surge of empathy for Potter, which he did not care for. If Potter has had to deal with this all these years, no wonder he's such a fantastic arsehole. He turned to his godfather. "I almost want to do it myself now."

"You had better be getting back to your father and his friends before Miss Granger wakes up," Dumbledore warned.

Draco could have pulled his hair out. He shut his eyes and seethed. "Why are you doing this? Why do you care?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Because Draco, your heart is a good one despite what you may otherwise think. You have had to steal the chances you've had to cultivate it with Miss Granger. The life of an old man who's seen entirely too much of this world for the life of a boy in love—it's a small price to pay, don't you think?"