It All Began With Dwarfing Draco

"She’s crazy! She’s an absolute lunatic! I thought you said you were dealing with her!"

"Calm down Mr. Malfoy."

"She almost killed Ginny! Am I just supposed to ignore that?!"

"I’m not saying anything of the like Mr. Malfoy but if you don’t calm yourself, nothing can be accomplished here."

Draco scowled, resisting the fierce urge to break something, and sat down in the high back chair across from Professor Dumbledore. Balling his fists, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He took a deep breath but his glare would not his face.

"Why wasn’t she being watched?" he asked, his voice as level as he could manage. "You promised that she wouldn’t be let out of anyone’s sight…"

"Now that, Mr. Malfoy, would be a breach of her privacy," Dumbledore replied, his tone still cool and collected as ever.

"I don’t care if she doesn’t have a moment to herself ever again," Draco said through clenched teeth, lowering his gaze from the Headmaster’s. "She took the knife at dinner last night. Why didn’t anyone notice?"

Dumbledore chuckled lightly, a smile forming on his wrinkled lips and the laugh lines around his eyes becoming even more noticeable. He stood gracefully, as if his age didn’t effect him, and walked around his large desk to stand beside Draco.

"I admire your persistence Mr. Malfoy," he said softly, pressing the tips of his fingers together and leaning forward slightly so came to Draco’s eye level. "But you are close to losing your head completely and that would be most unfortunate."

"I don’t care if I go to St. Mungo’s so they can reassemble my sanity like that thick-headed oaf Lockhart," Draco shot back, pushing himself out of the chair so that he stood face to face with the ancient professor. "What I do care about is the fact that Ginny was almost killed by that raving maniac that you decided should be given another bloody chance!"

"It is my belief that everyone, no matter what their crime, deserves a chance to prove themselves to skeptics," Dumbledore replied, his voice unwavering from it’s usual philosophical tone.

"So you would give Voldemort another chance if he came begging to you?!" Draco roared, his anger flaring up once again. ‘He’s cracked!’ his mind screamed. ‘He has actually lost his marbles!’

It’s a strange thing, when Dumbledore’s mood changes. You can tell when he’s happy because the room or area he is in is always warm and inviting like his mood. But when something troubles him, everything changes. The room gets cold and you feel a shiver creep across your skin, sort of like when a ghost walks through you. Draco felt this only a moment after his words had escaped his mouth. He watched with a mild sense of fear as Dumbledore’s smile faded to sternness.

"That is the one person I never have given a second chance," he said, his voice quiet and distant as if he was reliving a moment that had passed by long ago. "And I’ve regretted that decision ever since."

"Professor?" Draco asked hesitantly. How exactly do you console a man who you had known to be the strongest, bravest and wisest one to walk the face of the Earth? Draco certainly didn’t know. He watched warily as Dumbledore slowly shook his head and let out a small sigh.

"I regret few things Mr. Malfoy," the old man said honestly. "But I do not wish to allow another person’s chance at a better life slip through my grasp again, especially if it means lives of the innocent can be spared."

"Professor I…" Draco said, shocked at Dumbledore’s confession. He fumbled for words but was cut off when Dumbledore raised his hand for silence.

"You haven’t offended me," he said softly as his smile returned. "You merely asked for reasoning to what you would think to be madness. Had I been in your position, I’m sure I would have done the same."

Draco rubbed the back of his neck nervously, not quite sure of how to reply. Thankfully, he was spared when someone knocked on the door.

"Come," Dumbledore said, every trace of being troubled moments before gone from his voice and replaced with his usual warmth and amusement. "Ah, Mr. Filch, I was just about to send for you."

Turning back to Draco, Dumbledore smiled and gave the Slytherin a knowing look. "Run along now Mr. Malfoy. I have a feeling there’s someone downstairs is as anxious to see you as you are her."

"Yes Professor," Draco replied with a nod before turning to leave. Before he could reach the door, Filch stepped in his path. He met Draco’s eyes, holding them for a moment before bowing his head.

"I’m sorry," he muttered. "For endangerin’ Miss Weasley."

Draco felt like a buldger had hit him full force in the head. Had Filch, the nasty, rude, uncaring caretaker actually apologize? Draco wanted to laugh at the absurdity off the whole situation but couldn’t find the voice to do so.

"I should’ve been watchin’ that Parkinson girl more," he continued in a voice that showed he was annoyed with himself. He couldn’t have noticed Draco’s look of utter shock and amazement because he then did something that was basically unheard of nearly knocked the wind out of Draco’s chest. "Please tell Miss Weasley how sorry I am?"

"O-Of course," Draco stammered in reply. Filch gave one of his rare, lopsided smiles that looked more like a scowl but with teeth and then stepped aside, allowing the Slytherin to pass.

‘Ginny is never going to believe this,’ Draco thought once he reached the corridor below Dumbledore’s office. He looked back for a moment, watching the gargoyle leap into its former position as the guard of the Headmaster’s office. Shaking his head he moved away, heading towards the Hospital Wing.

‘Never in a million years…’