Winter (Draco x Reader)

Chapter 25- Petrified

"Well," Dumbledore asked, tapping his chin with one long finger. "Who will speak for the both of you?"

I gulped, sliding forward before Blaise could protest. "Me, Professor."

"Very well, then. Mr. Zabini, if you would kindly return to your dormitory. Do be mindful not to get caught by Mr Filch." He gave a closed eye smile. "He may not be inclined to be nearly as lenient as me."

Blaise rolled back on the balls of his feet, staring down the headmaster. I nodded, and he inhaled deeply, robes swishing against the stone floor as he made his way out.

The walk to the office was disturbingly quiet, the only sound being Dumbledore's slightly obnoxious humming. He pushed open the door at the top of the winding, wrought iron staircase, gesturing me in with a flourish. Dim light poured in through the floor to ceiling windows in the round observatory-like space, panoramic views of the school grounds as far as the eye could see. It was oddly cluttered, unusual objects clicking and ticking, lined up eclectically on groaning wooden shelves. A beautiful phoenix was perched on a silver stand by the desk, calmly appraising me. The headmaster swept past me, stroking its head briefly before settling in his chair.

"Miss Y/N, this is Fawkes," he introduced, proceeding to offer me a patterned ceramic bowl, its gaudy, cheerful colors out of place in the Gothic room. "Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"No, thank you," I said quietly, taking a seat across from him. One of the objects chimed loudly, small replicas of planets oscillating on silver strings, and I jumped slightly. "I'd rather answers, if that's alright."

He remained silent, while I fumbled with my fingers to avoid looking into his all-seeing eyes. "What happened to Hermione?"

"Petrified, like the rest of them," he replied nonchalantly, as though discussing the color of the sky or other common bits of knowledge. "A stricter curfew will certainly have to be implemented starting tomorrow. After all, it would be unfortunate for more students to be adversely affected by these events."

I schooled my features into a blank expression, trying to mask my surprise. He seemed relaxed, slightly slumped in his seat, fingers tapping on the padded protective layer over the mahogany surface. "Can she be cured?"

"Certainly," he affirmed airily. "All in due time, Miss L/N."

His gaze flickered back up to mine, suddenly pinning me with its intensity. "How convenient you should choose to come forward for your housemate. It was just as I predicted, but convenient all the same."

I squirmed, a chill creeping up my spine. "Look, Professor, I'm very sorry we were in the infirmary. I give you my word it won't happen again. May I please be excused?"

He was preternaturally still, his figure cast into partial shadows. "Not so fast. You see, I may have to go on leave soon, and Miss Weasley may not be quite enough of a push. Forgive me, but you may not be excused." Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but his eyes seemed ice cold in the moonlight. "In fact, quite the opposite."

I jumped up, my chair toppling to the floor. The cluttered walls felt like they were closing in on me, an odd, bluish glare seeping in through the gaps of a cabinet in the corner. His phoenix chirped, partially spreading its wings in alarm. He merely smiled, watching me with thinly veiled amusement.

"I have to go feed my cat." My excuse was flimsy, and I knew it. "And my parents are expecting a letter. They will worry."

"Do not fret, you will have ample time to contact them." His head tilt would have been almost puppy-like, if not for the sinister atmosphere. "But in the meantime, do remember... Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."