A Whispered Confession Can Change Everything

The full title of this piece is A Whispered Confesion Is All It Takes To Change Everything. This takes place at the end of year 2 and the n/c,minor will be in indirect description only, no actual first hand descriptions.

As always I do not own Harry Potter or the characters created by the brilliant author. I have added a few new characters as Draco needs some new friends and they're mine. Mine I tell you.

A Whispered Confession Is All It Takes To Change Everything

Prologue

A voice shivered in the quiet of the lavatory, no other sounds permeated and only one heart beat quickly with distress and worry. A transparent hand whispered white blond hair out of the eyes of her companion, “...I don’t know what to do anymore, Myrtle...I used to have everything figured out...or maybe father did... I...I can’t d-d-do it anymore...” The head ducked, hiding the evidence of tears as the voice whispered into Hogwarts’ robes, “...if I g-go back t-there...I’ll kill myself...”

***

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, going through a few parchments in deep concentration. It was extremely early in the morning, he up since the crack of dawn as the teachers prepared for the end of term testing. He was so involved in his tasks that he didn’t notice the ghost floating about his office until she plucked herself down on his desk with a squeal. He pulled back a little in surprise, realizing belatedly it was Moaning Myrtle. And as she rarely left the girl’s lavatory he felt the need to put his papers aside, “Myrtle?”

She looked sad, her normal flighty playfulness subdued, “I like him...I want him to share my toilet but if he dies at home then he won’t come back...”

Blinking once, letting what she said sink in before leaning forward intently, “Who, Myrtle?” Was one of the children sick or in danger and he had no knowledge of it?

She toyed with her fingers, looking coy and counting each of her knuckles, “The lonely boy who walks the halls at night...he’s already a ghost except he’s still like you.”

Harry Potter immediately sprang to mind, knowing the raven-haired Gryffindor roamed often through the corridors under his father’s invisibility cloak. But he couldn’t recall the lad using Myrtle’s wing much, save for the Chamber of Secrets. And no other children came to mind.

“Do you know the name of the lonely boy?”

She giggled softly, “You know it. Everyone knows it. He’s the boy everyone hates.”

Albus felt more than a little offended at such a remark. He didn’t hate any of the children, but kept
his emotions contained. Dealing with ghosts was a very tricky business as they had no true interest in the present since they lived in the past, “If you hate him why would you wish him to share your toilet?”

She stiffened, her voice snapping, “I don’t hate him! You do. His family does. Stuff and lies, all of it. You’ve blinded yourself with cobwebs and I won’t have it!” She gave a piercing wail, flying up to the ceiling before plunging through the floor. Albus gave a soft sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose and glasses dangling from his fingertips. Of all of the ghosts she was the most difficult. Even Peeves was more easily handled, mostly because of the Baron but still. Her head peaked out of his desk, resting her transparent chin lightly on a book, “Besides, he’s a pretty snake and if his father treats him again like my papa treated me there’ll be nothing left of him, inside or out.”

***

“Miss Granger...might I converse with you for a moment?”

Hermione Granger startled a little at the Headmaster’s voice, before glancing at her two best friends. Ronald Weasley’s face twisted in a sorrowful frown as if to apologize that she were in trouble while Harry Potter just frowned at Dumbledore thoughtfully. Harry thought the old Headmaster looked weary but he kept it to himself. She nodded briskly, squaring her shoulders and sending a silent farewell to Harry and Ron before catching up to Dumbledore who was making his way down the corridor towards his office, “Yes, sir?”

Giving her a smile and glancing over his spectacles as they walked, “I would prefer to discuss this within the safety of my chambers if that is alright with you.”

Matching his stride, “Of course. Sir.” She projected her confidence around her to shield others from seeing her worry. She didn’t think she should be in trouble, but she never took anything for granted in the wizarding world. At times she felt so out of place, struggling to be the best and unconsciously fearing that she would come up short.

Albus chuckled to himself, taking a look around at the so very young running and walking through the halls, off to this class and that, “Ah, youth...how it stirs this old soul...my but I do miss the days of my own youth. If only this old body could still keep up.” Hermione gave him a small smile but said nothing, just keeping up with him before following him up the winding staircase and through the door, “Minerva. Thank you for coming.”

Nodding, Minerva McGonagall, the deputy headmistress and professor of Transfiguration was as stoic as ever. As she was also the Head of Gryffindor, which was Hermione’s house, it more than worried the girl. Minerva’s lips were pressed thin with an unspoken worry, almost to the point that she appeared to have no lips, “Headmaster. Miss Granger.”

Hermione nodded in greeting, looking confused, “Professor...” Turning to the Headmaster,”...sir, am I in trouble?”

Albus made as scoffing noise as he eased himself down into his usual chair behind his desk. Of all of his students she was the one he was concerned the least when it came to mischief, “No, no not at all, dear child. No actually, point of fact, it is we who are in trouble. Mmhmm...lemon drop?” Hermione’s face colored with confusion even as she shook her head, “Please, sit child.” She complied, glancing from one to the other, “Miss Granger...when a student enters this institution it is with the understanding that we shall act as parent of this young person all during their education here...ensuring their health and well being. But, unfortunately, a student has been overlooked and now his well being has suffered because we were not vigilant in our task.”

Minerva looked down, a pensive frown on her face, “We could not have known, Albus.”

“No, but the signs were there. He roams the corridors for two years and we never knew of it. He trusts
us so little he speaks to the ghosts to share his pain-...”

Her face twitched with anger, spurned on by her fear, “But the boy will not confide in us!”

“Willingly, perhaps not-...”

Holding up a hand, seeing the fight about to progress around her, “Sir, I’m sorry but what does this have to do with me?”

Both adults looked at her, almost startled that she was in the room before Dumbledore smiled softly, “My dear, we require your assistance for a bit of a charade.”

One eyebrow raising, “A charade?”

“Yes. Tomorrow afternoon I would like very much for you to attend afternoon tea with me...”

Starting the think the old man had finally lost it but at the same time feeling honored, “Of course-...”

“...and Mr. Malfoy.”

Eyes widening in horror as she hopped to her feet, “-not. Sir! I couldn’t possibly maintain any sort of civility with him. He’s beyond reprehensible.” She covered her mouth quickly, not believing she had said that out loud. Yes, Draco Malfoy made his opinion of muggle born witches such as herself plain but she at least liked to keep her returned feelings of loathing to herself until provoked, “I-I’m sorry, sir, that was rude of me.”

Albus nodded a little to himself, “Yes...it certainly keeps people away, does it not?” Hermione paused once more, staring at him and mulling over his observation, “It is actually an invitation for your and his Head of House, Miss Parkinson and Mr. Potter as well.”

Hermione sat down slowly, her mind turning over possibilities before something sprung to mind. She was book smart, yes, but she was also perceptive, “Why such a balanced tea, sir?” Three Gryffindor. Three Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall folded her hands tightly, refusing to sit all of this time, “Miss Granger, what you are about to hear must not be repeated before due time. Indeed Mr. Malfoy’s life could very well depend on your silence. Can we have your promise to that?”

For just an instant, she wished she could make it happen. Squash the little cockroach. Before her good sense forced down the uncharitable impulse. Draco Malfoy was a bigoted bully but he didn’t deserve death, no matter how often she wished he’d drop off the face of the earth. Nodding slowly to the Transfiguration teacher in concession, “Yes, Professor.”

Minerva glanced back at Albus and let him lead, “My dear, the wizarding world, as you know, is quite different from the muggle world. We have different rules and indeed, treat our citizens differently. Our ways are set on many things, making us seem almost archaic at times, true? Like this very castle. It’s walls are solid in construct with moving staircases and animated pictures, yet there is no light beyond torch and flame. No motorized mechanisms of any kind...and the like. There is, however, a universal truth when it comes to the protection of our young.”

She was so confused by his tangents at this point, “Sir?”

“We do not curse our offspring, Miss Granger. We do not harm them beyond reasonable punishment. We do not deny them food or the basic necessities and we do not terrorize them.”

Her brow furrowing, “You mean abuse, sir? You don’t abuse your children.”

Nodding, “Precisely. And just as within the muggle world, there are rules and courts to take children away from unfit parents. To place them within protective custody should the need arose. It is, however, still a flawed system since even we as wielders of magic are not omnipotent. It is even more difficult to prove if there is no adult witness or if the child is not old enough to be considered ‘competent’.”

Thinking back through her reading. She could vaguely recall some of her independent reading on wizarding law, “Fourteen, sir?”

Giving her an encouraging smile, “Very good, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor.” Hermione smiled with delight, “Mr. Malfoy, as he is only ten, would not be considered such.”

Her hand shot up before she caught herself, blushing, “But this is second year, sir. Malfoy should be twelve or thirteen since the year is almost over. Granted that’s still not considered competent but, surely...”

Nodding, glancing at Minerva who had taken a seat and remained rather tense, “Yes, Miss Granger. This should have been Mr. Malfoy’s first year in the coming fall, but his abilities have been given to him early and he is advanced enough to handle the workload. He will not be eleven for another four months.”

She felt her eyes bug out. Malfoy was nine when she’d met him. The great golden trio had been picking on and been picked on...by a child. She suddenly felt very funny about making snide comments to him. She was already twelve, a few months from thirteen. It was like picking on a little firstie. It just felt...wrong.

Then her mind locked in on the point of the discussion, “This all has to do with him...doesn’t it?”

Albus nodded slowly, steepling his fingers, “I’m afraid so. It seems that though Mr. Malfoy uses tactics to keep most at a distance, he is rather...lonely. He has taken into his confidence one of the ghosts of the castle. While I cannot mention whom or why, let us say that certain facts have been revealed to myself which are most disturbing.”

Shaking her head slightly, “But a geist is not considered a reliable witness-...” She cottoned on to it, “That wasn’t your point.”

Smiling, “No. Now that I am aware of the problem, we are endeavoring to correct it. But Professor McGonagall is quite correct. Mr. Malfoy is clever. Much too clever to allow himself to be tricked into the conversation. We must use Slytherin tactics to snare a Slytherin.” It was more than that although Albus didn’t say it but the fact was that Draco Malfoy truly trusted no one.

Though she personally disliked the man, she knew of one Slytherin professor who went out of his way with things that concerned Malfoy, “Professor Snape?”

“The good professor is creating a truth serum as we speak. It will loosen the tongue to all secrets. Aurors are watching over his shoulder, to testify what was brewed and that it was done correctly. Everyone at this tea, with the exception of Mr. Malfoy will be given the antidote ahead of time to ensure that he will be the only one under the influence.”

Nodding slightly, “Since he might get suspicious if he’s the only one drinking. Then why include the other Slytherin?”

“It will help to lure him in, again without suspicion. Also, Miss Parkinson is very interested in protecting Mr. Malfoy from his family.”

Sighing softly. It was a lot to take in. And with Harry not here to hear everything she already came to a conclusion, “I have to tell Harry...don’t I?”

“It would be helpful, my dear, but if you like you may send him to me and I will explain. The tea will
be tomorrow at three. By then Aurors will have placed monitoring spells on the room to record the evidence needed. A large part of your cooperation in this will merely be to be as witness and testify that there was no tampering.”

Frowning, “I wouldn’t be considered competent though, would I sir?”

Dumbledore smiled quietly, “I’m fairly confident if there are any questions for you, Miss Granger, it will be strictly based on your thoughts during this recording.”

She nodded slowly, “And why not the Boy That Lived just to help make it even more convincing.” Albus nodded again quietly and Hermione pursed her lips, “And what about after?”

Glancing at Minerva, “We already have a plan in the works for that but we shall know more if we are successful.”

Closing her eyes and nodding grimly, “I’ll tell Harry.”