A/N: I would like to note that all spelling errors have been corrected for the last two chapters. At least the ones that have been pointed out. I would also like to point out that this is the last chapter of the story. Therefore, let me honestly thank everyone who has been following this story, and the reviewers for letting me know what it is they've enjoyed. For example, Artimas-Chan points out in Chapter Nineteen, "Unfortunately, no mistakes were glaringly obvious."
For those who are interested, I am writing book two, albeit slowly. I am hoping to start posting in June. I should have a chance to get some rest by then. I hate work.
Chapter 21: The End
Soft. Draco took a deep breath. "Bloody hell."
A familiar voice shouted, "He's awake, Madam Pomfrey."
"Hermione?" Draco said lazily, "you came by to watch me?"
"Actually, I came here on my own."
Draco opened his eyes and looked over. Hermione was in the bed next to him. "Whot happened?"
Hermione beamed. "I caught the snitch. We won."
"Brilliant . . . but why are you here?"
"I was three feet above the ground heading downward when I caught it. Well, not directly downward. I'm not that stupid. But it was a fairly steep angle. I would estimate about forty degrees. I was told I rolled halfway across the pitch before I finally stopped."
Draco was amazed at how calmly his friend was relating this. "But . . . but . . . what if you'd died?"
"Oh, we would have still won. Ron Weasley told me there was a precedent." A long pause. "The look on your face is priceless."
Draco was speechless.
"Drink this." Madam Pomfrey was holding a glass filled with a purple liquid in front of Draco. The boy drank and the last of his headache disappeared. He handed the glass back with his thanks.
"How long?" he asked.
"The End of the Year Feast is tomorrow," Madam Pomfrey told him. "How are you feeling? There are students who want to visit. If you think it's too much for you I can tell them to come back later."
Draco's eyes widened. Students wanted to visit him! Then he remembered. He wasn't the only one in the infirmary. "I wouldn't want to disappoint Hermione."
He was right. A half dozen people walked in. The rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. As one, they walked over to Hermione's bed. But two of them stood between Hermione and Draco. And faced the wrong way.
"Did she tell you?" Fred asked.
"Yeah. You won. Congratulations."
"Only the Quidditch cup," George told him.
Draco frowned, "but I was told we get loads of house points if we win. If you win."
"150," Fred pointed out. "Which makes up for what certain people lost for us earlier this year."
Draco nodded. He was one of those people. "Slytherin wins the House Cup?"
"By twelve points."
"Sorry."
"Don't be," George said cheerfully. "We're blaming Neville. After all, you and Harry lost your points in a fair fight."
"NO?" Hermione shouted. Hands pushed Fred and George apart. "You cheated at chess?" she accused.
"Whot? No. That was Justin. I was just a pawn in his scheme."
"A rook," Hermione corrected, but she was adamant. "You can't cheat at chess. It's impossible."
Draco smirked. "And you can't play Quidditch. It's a given."
Hermione returned the smirk. "I concede the point. You can cheat at anything."
"Only if I have to."
One of the chasers, Angelina Johnson, spoke up, "If you're that good, can you steal us the House Cup?"
When Draco put on a thoughtful look, everyone started laughing.
He looked up. "What's it worth?"
Everyone stopped laughing. Oliver Wood spoke up. "Twenty Galleons."
"Do you have the money?"
"I do."
"I'll give it a go, then." Draco gestured to the bed he was in. "Under the circumstances I can't promise anything."
Everyone was laughing again.
Draco was surprised at the number of guests. Ron Weasley came by. He was once again in love with Hermione. What boy in his right mind wouldn't be in love with the girl who won the Quidditch cup for Gryffindor. Ron was also delighted that Draco asked him what happened at the match. He described everything in detail.
Justin came by as soon as he heard Draco was awake. He told all about the whispering campaign that was going on. Potter and Longbottom were furious that Draco cheated and left them stuck behind the chessboard. They started the rumours that Draco was trying to steal the Stone for himself. So Justin started his own rumours.
Draco was not trying to steal the Stone for himself. He and Justin were partners. And he had no idea why Potter and Longbottom were surprised they had been used. After all the disparaging remarks they had made. And the fact that they were trying to use Draco. Justin pointed out that everyone liked his rumour better. It didn't have the vindictiveness that the other one did.
The rumours also helped explain how everyone knew so much about what had happened.
Hermione was gone. She had been pronounced cured and had left shortly after Crabbe and Goyle had stopped by. They had managed to pass all of their classes. "Will wonders never cease," Hermione exclaimed as she left the infirmary.
Draco ate his meal in the quiet of the evening. He was alone, but Madam Pomfrey was nearby and would know at once if he needed any help. It was a simple meal but he couldn't bring himself to eat most of it, and so it sat there before him as he lay propped up on his pillow. Now that he was alone, his mind began wandering over recent events, over what he had done.
"Not hungry?" Dumbledore asked from the entrance. "After an adventure like yours, most people would be famished." He walked over to the quiet boy and sat in the chair next to his bed. As an afterthought, he waved his hand. The food disappeared. "How do you feel?"
Draco looked over with hard eyes. "I killed him."
"Professor Quirrell? Yes, in a sense you did, although I would argue Voldemort killed him. Had the man chosen a better master, or none at all, he would not have been in that position." He put his hand on Draco's shoulder. "I know you don't want a philosophical answer, but I thought you would be curious to know why you were able to kill him, simply by spitting in his face?"
Draco nodded. The thought had not occurred to him.
"Your mother died protecting you. Do you know that?"
"Professor Snape told me."
"And when she died, she used old magic to cast a protection on you against Voldemort. Because Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort, he was affected by this magic as well. His every contact with you caused him pain. In the end, the power within you killed him. And do you know what this power is?" Draco shook his head. "It's called love."
Draco simply looked at the headmaster. "Love didn't keep her alive."
"No. Because of her love for you, she sacrificed her life." Dumbledore's voice became a whisper. "Her choice was that you should live."
Draco wiped a tear that suddenly came. "I'll remember."
After a pause, Dumbledore added, "If there is anything you would like to know, I would be more than happy to tell you."
Draco did think of something. He asked his question sheepishly. "The stone. Where is it?"
Dumbledore smiled. "I'm sorry, Draco. We couldn't let you keep it. It wasn't yours to begin with."
The boy blushed lightly. "I'm curious though, Sir, how did I get it?"
"Ah, one of my more clever ideas, or so I thought. Only someone who wanted the stone, but did not want to use, could retrieve it. I never thought of a situation where that person would be standing next to someone who would do anything to get the stone." He held his hand up. "Even a great plan has its flaw."
"Then that Mirror . . ." Draco paused, trying to think of how to ask his question.
"It is called the Mirror of Erised. In its normal state, the mirror shows nothing more or less than a person's deepest darkest desires."
"But . . . when I looked in it the first time . . ."
"You saw yourself holding the Philosophers Stone," Dumbledore replied.
"No, I didn't. I mean, I saw the stone, but my father was holding it."
Dumbledore's eyebrow raised. "If I may ask, you said the first time. I assume there was a second time. What did you see then?"
Draco held his head down. "Um, nothing."
"I understand. You would want to keep that a secret."
"No, Sir. That's what I saw. No reflection. Only an empty room. What does that mean?"
Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought for a while. "I will be honest. I don't know. I would hazard a guess that you were too emotionally drained to have any desire at that point, much less any other feelings. As far as seeing your father the first time you looked in the mirror, all I can say is that your mother was not the only one who loved you. And the reflection you saw could be a reflection of that fact. But I may be wrong. I can only guess at the meanings."
"It sounded like a good guess, Sir."
"Are you tired yet? I know, now that supper is over, you will be having one more visitor." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "According to some rumours, you regularly refer to him as 'Uncle Severus'."
Draco gave a short laugh. "It was only that once. I wanted to ride Potter's goat a bit."
"Laugh all you want. Most of the students believe this particular rumour." As he stood up, Dumbledore told him, "There is a precedent, you know. If you don't believe me, ask Professor Black."
"Sir," Draco asked quickly, "Hagrid told me that Potter, um,"
"Because Sirius Black is his godfather?" Dumbledore asked.
Draco rushed out his question. "IsProfessorSnapemygodfather?"
A look of pain seemed to pass over the headmaster's face, so quickly that Draco thought it might have been his imagination.
"He isn't," Draco said, his disappointment clear.
"That position fell to another of your father's friends. And that man . . . let us say that he is not here."
Draco took the hint and kept quiet. Inside him, he hated Potter that much more. He still had his parents. He even had his godfather/uncle. He had his family.
"Am I too late to visit?" Severus Snape asked Madam Pomfrey as he walked into the infirmary. She pointed him over to Draco's bed. Snape scowled as Draco barely looked over at him.
"It's those rumours that Potter has been telling. That's why you're sad. I'll give that boy so many detentions he'll have to spend an extra year at Hogwarts just to finish them all. And YOU." Draco looked up when the Professor yelled. "You were foolish enough to believe them. How is that possible?"
Draco was forced to smile. "Sorry, Professor. I was thinking about my parents."
The Professor's scowl became a frown as he sat. "And now you've ruined my good mood as well."
"I found out I don't have a godfather, either. Not really. I asked the headmaster and . . . He didn't want to talk about it. Like it gave him bad memories."
Snape risked a smile. "And you feel that you're alone? With me here? With Madam Pomfrey here? Why don't we summon Hagrid? Then you can feel alone in a crowded room. A crowded room of people who care about you." His smile grew when he saw Draco's lips quiver. "To be honest, if Hagrid were in a room, it would be crowded even if he were by himself."
Draco snorted. "Thanks, Professor. I needed a laugh."
Snape gave him a scowl. "And that is another thing. Everyone in this school knows that you don't call me that in private." His voice became soft. "I would have no objection, Draco, if it was proven true."
Draco was filled with mixed emotions. Throughout the year he had often wished he could do that very thing, to be that intimate with this particular teacher, and now he had permission. But the words couldn't come. Instead, tears came.
"Have I done something wrong?" the professor asked.
Madam Pomfrey answered. "You did something right." She sat down on the bed opposite from Snape. She wiped Draco's cheek. "You reminded someone that he does have a family, even if it isn't the normal sort. Isn't that right, Draco?"
Draco smiled through his tears. Words suddenly came easy. "Got that right, Mum. Now I got me an uncle. Ain't that so, Uncle Severus?"
Snape groaned. "And you were doing so well with your vocabulary." He then chuckled as Madam Pomfrey held a tissue to Draco's nose and told him to blow. Once the boy's cheeks were dry again, Snape cast a glance at Madam Pomfrey. "May I ask you about something, in private?"
"Whot?" Draco noted the looks being passed between the two adults.
Madam Pomfrey smiled politely. "I'm sorry." She turned to Draco. "Professor . . . Change that. Uncle Severus asked if you could spend the summer holiday with him."
"You said no?" Draco asked, worried.
"The Minister disapproved. If I had said yes, you would have had a new legal guardian."
Draco nodded. "Probably Professor Black. Just to make sure I can't do anything."
"I did make a suggestion of my own, which was acceptable." Madam Pomfrey smiled now that she had Draco's interest. "It's because you were raised as a muggle. The Minister likes the idea of limiting your association with magic. It concerns the Finch-Fletchelys."
Draco's eyes lit up. "They invited me?"
"No. But Justin's father has a recent acquaintance, a businessman. It is a small business, mind you, and the man has been blessed with a new addition to the family. He also suffers the lose of an employee as his wife now tends to the new addition. The Minister agreed to let us apprentice you for the next two months."
Draco groaned. He was going to be put to work as an office boy or something. But he would have someone to spend his free time with, if he had any. He looked up cautiously at his guardian. "I can still see Justin? You said this bloke was a mate of his dad."
"That is up to Justin. But you will need to know certain things. Your employer doesn't know about magic, nor are you to tell him. And as it is school policy that you may not use magic while you are away from Hogwarts you shouldn't be worried that you may accidentally reveal yourself."
"Sounds like fun," Draco said sarcastically.
"More fun than spending the summer with Professor Black?"
Draco looked up, startled. "Whot?"
"That was the Minister's personal suggestion. And you should know that it was Professor Black's strong support of my idea that convinced the Minister."
Madam Pomfrey stood up. "I'll give you fifteen minutes. Then it's bedtime for you."
Draco nodded. He and Professor Snape spent the rest of the time talking about what happened below the third floor corridor. They both were surprised at the accuracy of Justin's 'rumours'. The Hufflepuff boy even made it a point to be fair to both sides in his description of events. When Madam Pomfrey told them it was time, Uncle Severus promised to stop by again after lunch.
"I am going to the feast, at least?" Draco asked as he sat up in bed eating his lunch.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," came the reprimand. "And yes you are. The headmaster insisted." Madam Pomfrey looked at her charge. "You can get up and get dressed after you finish. I want to make sure you have no problems being on your feet. Otherwise, headmaster or no, I'm keeping you here. DON'T GULP YOUR FOOD."
"I'm done," Draco said cheerfully less than a minute later.
Madam Pomfrey pointed. "Shower first before you get dressed. And use plenty of soap. Or else."
Draco nodded. For all of her friendliness and bedside manner, she demanded to be listened to in her domain. If he were to argue with her, he might end up going starkers to the Great Hall just so she could make her point. Not that he would argue. He knew better.
It was almost two. In a handful of hours, Draco would be free of the infirmary. Hagrid had come by and made a special request. Justin had told him that Draco sang a song to Fluffy. With Madam Pomfrey also listening, Draco sang the full song about Charles Vane, who had spent years attacking other ships for fun and profit. Of how he was marooned on an island by his crew, then rescued by a passing ship. Instead of being freed, he was recognized by a former friend and turned over to the British in Jamaica for the reward. And there he was hung for his crimes.
"You would know a pirate song," Madam Pomfrey said half in jest.
At half past three, Professor Snape entered the infirmary, a smile forcing its way to his face when the boy by the window called out, "Uncle".
"This is a short visit, I'm afraid," the professor said. "I was told you haven't seen your grades. It should be no surprise that you received an O for potions."
"An O?"
"No one ever told you about grades? O, E, A, and P. Outstanding, Excellent, Adequate and Poor." Snape's voice became a stage whisper. "There are other letters but you don't want to know what they mean."
"I do know what they mean," Draco said smugly, "And I know O's the best." He added hopefully, "was that the only one?"
"You have two of them."
Draco smiled, "McGonagall or Sprout?"
Snape shook his head. "E from both."
"Flitwick?"
"Also E."
The boy frowned. "Black?"
Snape smiled triumphantly. "Not that he wanted to, mind you. He gave O's to all four boys who went after the Philosopher's Stone. He had to include you and your friend, Justin, in order to give his two favorite nephews the top grade as well."
Draco laughed. "And you failed them for potions?"
"Believe it or not, Draco, I was fair. I was perhaps stricter with them but in the end I was forced to give them excellent grades. They earned them, barely I admit, but they did earn them. Miss Granger, on the other hand, clearly earned her O as well."
"And Justin?" Draco was hoping.
"He doesn't have your flair, Draco. And because of his friendship I may have been more lenient. He also barely earned his grade. He received Outstanding."
"It's because of me you gave it to him, isn't it?"
Snape shook his head. "Your friend, Justin, had three Outstanding marks. The third one was in Herbology."
Draco was laughing. "He told me. Too many detentions." He stopped when he looked up at the professor. Snape was giving him a strange look. As though he was going to say or do something that he would not normally do.
"I did want to ask you one question, Draco. The potions chamber. Professor Quirrell had deliberately erased the riddle that would let you know which bottle to drink from."
"Yeah, he heard us. We musta reached the chessboard just after he finished off the troll. He said he tried to slow us down."
Snape nodded, the look still on his face. "How did you manage to find the right potion."
Draco gave a laugh. "It were easy. I looked for the bottle he drank out of."
The look changed briefly to one of surprise. "It was that simple?"
Draco nodded his head but he couldn't resist looking smug. His smug look faded as Professor Snape turned his back without saying a word. A stunned look as the professor walked toward the door. Then surprise, as Snape turned around. The man spoke in a toneless almost forced voiced.
"For his creative use of logic in a crisis, I award Draco Malfoy twenty points."
The stunned look returned, and when Draco looked up, the potions master was gone. It dawned on Draco what had happened. "Bugger all. He gave it away. Just for me."
"Ready, mate," Justin asked as he arrived at the infirmary.
"If he isn't, we'll leave without him," Hermione said as she followed him in.
"No, we won't," Fred and George said from behind her, "if he's not ready, we'll carry him down."
"You heard the news?" Draco asked.
"What news?" Justin asked in return. When no one else said anything, Draco knew they didn't know. And the schemer in him didn't want to reveal it.
"Black gave me an O for defense. Never thought that would happen."
"Congratulations," Hermione said graciously. "I earned mine the hard way. By studying."
Draco's jaw dropped open. "Yeah, I only had to face down Voldemort."
"As though you haven't done that before."
Draco nodded. "That was good, Hermione. I almost fell for it."
"If I didn't make a joke about it, I'd . . ." Hermione suddenly hugged him. "I was scared. That's why I tried so hard in the match. After all the faith you had in me, I couldn't let you down. And when I woke up you were next to me. You . . ."
Draco heard Hermione muffle a sob. "Yeah, in me usual position, flat on me back an' passed out. Got me a good future as a tippler. 'Course I shoudda done it last week. Wouldn't 'ave 'ad to take them exams."
Most of the talk on the way to the Great Hall was about grades, but Fred and George would make remarks about the Quidditch match and their star Seeker. Draco thought they were deliberately making an effort to keep Hermione cheerful.
"What's that," Draco asked innocently as he saw a crowd of people standing around.
"It's the points board," Hermione said. "It must have changed."
Fred's eyes lit up. "Maybe one of the Slytherins . . ."
George had a better idea. "OY, ANGELINA."
The girl in question looked over. George shrugged his hands. Angelina pointed at herself and nodded. George nodded back. "We've got to see this. She says we won the House Cup."
Four pairs of eyes suddenly turned to look at Draco.
"Oh, did I mention? I managed to get twenty points. Can't reveal my sources, you understand."
"You didn't?" Hermione asked in disbelief. She ran to the entrance to the Great Hall and looked in. "You really did?"
The boys followed her into the hall. Scarlet and Gold banners hung from the ceiling and, at the far end, behind the teachers table, the Gryffindor lion stood proud. Draco saw ahead of them, Oliver Wood staring at the banners. He couldn't help himself. He walked up and tapped the older boy's arm and waited for Wood to look at him.
"So, Ollie, got me money?"
The feast was over. The night had passed and dawn had come. Students went down to the Great Hall for their final meal at school, then returned to do whatever packing remained. Draco had a hard time leaving. He managed to visit Madam Pomfrey. They exchanged hugs. He visited Hagrid. He tried to shake hands. Hagrid insisted on hugging him. He visited Professor Snape.
"Sir?"
"You should be packing."
"Already done."
"And you should be saying your goodbyes."
"Already done. Saved the best for last."
"Enjoy your holiday, Draco."
"Uncle Severus." A pause. "You didn't have too. The house points, I mean."
Professor Snape pointed to a seat near to him. "Sit down. If you miss the train, I'll take you to London myself." Draco sat. Snape knelt in front of him so that they were at eye level.
"I talked to Professor Dumbledore after I left you the night before the feast. He told me about the mirror. He told me that you saw nothing. That mirror shows your strongest desire, regardless of how weak it is. But to have no desire? Not even to despair and thus desire death? To be nothing?
"I gave you those points, Draco, because you needed them, not because you earned them. I gave up a Seventh straight year of having the best house because I believe in you." A wry smile. "Now, regardless of how you look at it, you are responsible for your house's victory. You must always remember this. You are someone special. Even if others don't see it. Even if they deny it. You ARE special, and you have to remember that."
Professor Snape then gave Draco his equivalent of a hug. He squeezed Draco's hand. A minute later, Draco was reminded of the time and went rushing off, almost knocking Hermione down as he came out of Snape's office. Together they made their way up from the dungeons, and had to race outside to the coaches as one of the teachers called out for the last stragglers.
The ride seemed to go by too quickly. The funny horses that now pulled the coach seemed to fly along. The train seemed to travel much too fast. Draco wanted to hold on to this time for one more minute, one more hour, one more day. Then they were on the platform waiting for an old wizard to let them know when they could cross over to Kings Cross Station. Justin said they should all go at once and give the muggles a good fright. Draco secretly wished they would never be allowed to go. He knew what was on the other side. A strange man waiting for him to help out in his shop, run for the mail, mop the floors, free labor for two months.
Then they had to go, Hermione behind him, Justin ahead. Two friends he would miss. They were on the platform and making their way to the entrance. Justin called out when he saw his father, motioning for his friend to follow. Hermione wished them luck and turned toward where her own parents were waiting.
"DRAGON."
Draco looked up for the first time. Mick? Mick was the small businessman? He walked up in surprise. Why hadn't they told him? The answer came to him too quickly. Maybe to pay him back for being such a pain all year?
"Wotcha, Mick? Janice?"
Janice beamed at him. "Wotcha, Draco. Want ya to meet someone. Cheryl, meet your Uncle Dragon." Draco looked at the small baby in Janice's hand. So delicate. So fragile. He looked up at Janice and said as seriously as he could manage. "I ain't ever changin' 'er nappies if that's what yer thinkin'."