Redemption

Redemption

Summary: The road to redemption is always a long and bumpy path. Draco needs to close the door to past to move on with life. No man can take this on by themselves. This is where one man's story begins.

“Mr. Malfoy?” an old man with a long white beard and bright, knowledgeable blue eyes, greeted Draco amiably. “What are you doing here?” Despite his disbelief, the elderly man made no move to protect himself from the young man.

“By your demeanor, I take it you know the answer to your question, sir,” Draco replied coolly. Still every bit as arrogant as he was when he was under Dumbledore's keen eye at Hogwarts he had grown up. Now twenty-five years of age, he had grown into a man. His towering frame had filled out. The hair that Draco had sported slicked back when he was younger was now cut into a crew shape. Still as pale as ever, one could see the young boy he had once been lurking behind his features.

“I can only make guesses, Mr. Malfoy. Therefore, I'd like to hear what you have to say.” Dumbledore had learned the hard way to never presume.

“My aims, sir, are to join the Order of Phoenix.”

Dumbledore lent back in his chair and mad a steeple with his fingers. He appraised Draco carefully, his mouth turned slightly upwards in the corners, before continuing on.

“This action shouldn't be taken lightly, Mr. Malfoy.”

“I know.”

“Well, as you may or may not know, it is mandatory for all those wishing to enter the Order to take a veritaserum. If that is acceptable to you, we would need to take a trip down to the dungeons.”

Dumbledore and Draco went down the staircase that would lead them back to the entrance hall. To the right was the path Draco would use if he chose to leave; to the left was the hallway down to the dungeons. Dumbledore turn to Draco just as Draco was turning. He had made his decision.

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The dungeons were always dark and moist. The stone walls that were characteristic around the school were also in the dungeons. However, down here, the darkness hid the dirt that rooted itself in the crevices between the rocks. Filch just left it because he figured, out of sight, out of mind. It was definitely less work for him. The candles that were used to illuminate the hallways never gave off enough light because there were no windows for the sunlight to shine through and help out. Draco liked it that way because then there was always so much that you'd never see in the dungeons unless you walked smack into them. Then you had to notice them.

Snape, it appeared, was going through the potions in his inventory. When Dumbledore and Draco walked in, he looked at the pair with no evidence of surprise on his face.

“Ahh. Serverus,” Dumbledore said, “I assume you have the veritaserum ready for young Mr. Malfoy?” The headmaster's eyebrows rose and the smile on his face gave him away. Dumbledore knew of the fatherly relationship that Snape and Draco shared in his school years before. It was easy for him to deduce that Snape and Draco had kept up that relationship.

“Yes, headmaster.”

“Well, then, shall we venture back to my office? I dare say it is more comfortable up there. Unless you have any objections,” he added as an afterthought. He eyed the two parties. When neither of them protested, he turned on his heel and strode out of the dungeons, Severus and Draco trailing behind him.

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The trio arrived outside Dumbledore's office quickly. As the headmaster muttered the password (`canary creams'), the gold phoenix rose and revealed the same spiral staircase that Draco had just walked down.

“My. Malfoy, this is the truth potion, as I am sure you know. This is your last chance to back out.” Dumbledore looked at Draco through veiled eyes, though he left Draco feeling as though he were trying to see his very soul.

“Yes, sir. I have made my mind. This is what I want to do with my life. I want to join the Order,” Draco stared right back at Dumbledore. Draco knew this was exactly what he needed to do and precisely where he needed to be.

“Very well then, Severus,” Dumbledore nodded and pointed in Draco's direction. He gave Draco the potion and waited for it to kick in. One could always tell when it did because the drinker's eyes became dilated.

“Okay, Mr. Malfoy. Tell me. Who are your parents?” Dumbledore usually started with simple questions, easing the person being questioned a chance to gather their thoughts.

“Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy,” Draco answered methodically.

“Why are you here?”

“I want to serve under Albus Dumbledore and join the Order of Phoenix.”

“What stimulated your change of camps?”

This time, Draco faltered. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He just shut his mouth again and continued staring right through his interrogator.

Dumbledore asked the question again. This time, Draco answered the question. Dumbledore looked at Snape as Draco started his response.

“I killed him. He was standing up against the wall. A little boy, maybe four years. He had dirty blonde hair. His two front teeth were knocked out and had freckles on his face, which was also smudged with dirt. He never came in with parents, like all the other children. He just wandered in the line, pushed by those behind him. He never shed any tears, he never cried. All the others, they all cried and tried to break free of their chains. The boy never struggled; it seemed like he just accepted that he was going to die. He looked me in the eyes and I stared right back at him. His eyes were a dark, chocolate brown. He was trying to tell me something. He just stood at the wall, I never comprehended what message he was trying to get across. By the boys demeanor, he appeared as if he knew what it was like to just accept life, situations, and not fight for what we wanted. Then we got the order to fire. We, those standing on the firing line, all sent the curses. The little boy was dead before he hit the ground. He had no ways of protection. He didn't fight. He just fell into a heap on the ground, nothing else portrayed on his face.”

Snape had known of things such as that. He had been on one of those firing squads. He knew what is was like to have morals, and have to go through seeing the bodies of innocent women and children lying in piles waiting to be disposed of. He knew. He looked at Dumbledore, who was clearly floored by this disclosure. Never would any person with ethics assume that anyone could do such a thing.

Dumbledore was startled by the revelation. He was astonished by the inhumanity of killing innocent people, children no less. Dumbledore had known of the work camps that the Death Eaters controlled. He also knew of death camps that the women who were deemed un-useful were sent. Yet, this was the first account he'd gotten of children dying. Why anyone would follow a man that kills children is unfathomable. Unfortunately, that was not the problem right then. He composed himself and went on with the interview.

“Draco, what do you want to gain from this?”

Draco took his time answering, finding the best way to express it.

“I want to fight. I don't want to accept life, situations. I want to show that little boy that you can fight, rebel. I want to show him that he wasn't forgotten. I want redemption, from the past.”

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Yea, yea. I know this was a Draco-centric chapter, but the next one will entail more Draco/Ginny interaction. The next chapter will probably be out next weekend. I have my schoolwork to do, plus my basketball schedule, so for right now, the chapters will probably always be week by week... not day by day. Thanks for reading my ranting!!!