What happened next was quite magical.
Draco discovered the phoenix's wondrous use. It turned out that besides flaunting its feathers, it could also carry heavy loads. The group of them, like a string of knotted vines, climbed up the phoenix's tail and flew back to Myrtle's bathroom without any hindrance.
Myrtle was floating back and forth at the pipe opening, eagerly waiting for them.
"What a disappointment!" she said regretfully, seeing that they had returned unharmed, and even brought an extra person with them. "Is there not anyone who can share the bathroom with me?"
"What kind of talk is that?" Ron said disdainfully.
Myrtle circled around them in dissatisfaction, sighed, and then ran away from home down the toilet.
The phoenix seemed quite pleased, constantly emitting melodious calls and holding its head high. It flew low and proudly, circling ahead and leading the way until it reached the Headmaster's office.
What followed was perfectly logical.
Draco followed Harry and the others into the Headmaster's office, where a pair of desperate parents—the Weasleys—were waiting. They looked at the children who had burst in with disbelief, then rushed forward, embracing their little daughter whom they had lost and found, and wept bitterly.
Harry piled everything he was carrying onto Professor Dumbledore's desk and then began his account of the discovery of the Chamber of Secrets, recounting how he killed the Basilisk, destroyed the diary, and emerged with Ginny. The room was silent; everyone listened intently to his incredible experience.
Draco stood patiently beside Harry, listening intently, and filling in many previously unheard clues. For example, Harry discovered by chance that the weeping Myrtle was the victim who died fifty years ago; Dumbledore mentioned that he had taught the Dark Lord when he was a professor at Hogwarts; phoenix tears could cure poisons, even those of the Basilisk; and in the Chamber of Secrets, the diary could conjure a human form out of thin air and absorb life force...
Wait! Draco's face stiffened.
Therefore, looking back at the diary's behaviour, it does not seem like an object that could be created by simple Dark magic. It seems to have come to life, or rather, it seems to have acquired a soul.
Another Horcrux?
Is this even possible? The Dark Lord, for reasons unknown, took an ordinary Muggle-made diary, turned it into a Horcrux, and entrusted it to his henchman, believing he would keep it safe...
Draco stood there, swaying, utterly shocked and disoriented by the terrifying possibility. He struggled to grip his palms, trying to rouse himself and remain calm.
He did not want to show any inappropriate emotions in the Headmaster's office and let Dumbledore notice.
Later, the Weasleys were sent to the Hospital Wing, where Ginny needed a thorough examination by Madam Pomfrey. Professor McGonagall was sent to the kitchens to prepare for the celebratory dinner. Then, Dumbledore looked kindly at Harry and Ron, then at Draco, "I wanted to keep you here to ask more questions. But I think you had better get your wounds treated at the Hospital Wing first, and come see me before dinner."
Draco wanted to go with them, but the sharp-eyed Headmaster stopped him.
"Mr Malfoy, please wait a moment. I have something to ask you," Professor Dumbledore said in a gentle but unquestionable manner.
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, then looked worriedly at Draco—who remained expressionless and showed no sign of panic. Finally, at Professor Dumbledore's signal, they left first.
Professor Dumbledore waved his elder wand, and a comfortable chair sprang from the other side of the room, stopping behind Draco. "Please sit down, Mr Malfoy."
Draco sat down silently, without saying a word.
"So, Draco, can you tell me what role you play in all of this?" Dumbledore asked him gently.
Draco was always hesitant to speak to Dumbledore or look at him casually.
He died right after they finished talking last time.
Every time he saw Professor Dumbledore, he had to remind himself that he was not a ghost, but a living person.
"I was just passing by," Draco said, clenching his fists and feigning nonchalance. "I helped them out. It was nothing really; I just cleared a hole in the rubble so we could fly back."
Those deep blue eyes looked at him thoughtfully, and Draco knew he did not completely believe him.
He dared not look into the eyes of this Legilimency expert for too long, not because he feared Dumbledore would see through him, but because he feared the man would discover that he, at such a young age, possessed Occlumency. He looked down at the bloodstained Gryffindor sword and the Sorting Hat on the Headmaster's desk, concealing his agitated and uneasy emotions.
Professor Dumbledore stopped talking and lowered his head to study the tattered diary with a large hole in it.
"Actually, I have wanted to talk to you for a whilst now." He changed the subject with a smile. "I heard from Madam Pomfrey that you are very good at brewing Mandrake Restorative Draughts."
Draco said tactfully and cautiously, "It is just a coincidence."
He dared not underestimate Dumbledore—he was extremely adept at extracting information. In his previous life, even when he was unarmed, weak, and on the verge of collapse, he could still extract information from the other party.
Dumbledore was also a master of Legilimency—as evidenced by the Pensieve in the Headmaster's office—which is why Draco, who had a mission to assassinate in his previous life, had to be proficient in Occlumency to the point that Dumbledore could not break through his defences.
"Not everyone can happen to brew such a powerful potion in their second year," Professor Dumbledore said kindly. "I think everyone has witnessed your abilities and talents. Not long ago, you even captured Peter Pettigrew and helped clear Harry's godfather's name..."
"Let me remind you, Sirius Black is my dear mother's cousin," Draco said with a forced smile. "In a way, I should call him uncle. I saved him only out of a sense of responsibility due to blood ties."
"Ah, I almost forgot about that." Professor Dumbledore put down his diary and said cheerfully, "So, when you bravely stood in front of Mr Weasley in the Chamber of Secrets, facing Professor Lockhart's Memory Charm, it was also out of a sense of duty that comes with blood?"
"Well, there is indeed a slight family connection..." Draco was extremely embarrassed. At that time, he had indeed picked up a bit of Gryffindor's bad habits, being somewhat reckless.
The Memory Charm is no joke, and, you fool Ron Weasley! Your mouth is so loose!
Just now, Dumbledore had only asked a casual question, and he had spilled everything. Draco resolved never to tell Ron any important secrets again—he was too easily tricked into revealing anything.
"Judging from your actions, I believe that deep down you consider Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, and Miss Granger, who is lying in the Hospital Wing, as your friends." Professor Dumbledore looked at him wisely through his half-moon spectacles. "I am certain that you have helped Harry and the others in many ways that we cannot see. In fact, you are not the first Slytherin to be so hypocritical." His gaze seemed to wander for a moment, but then he quickly looked back.
Draco remained silent, attempting to resist his psychological tactics with silence.
"You may not admit it. I am old, but that does not mean my eyesight is bad. I can sense that they trust you and are even willing to lie for you," Dumbledore concluded gently.
"They did not lie..." Draco argued softly.
"Let us call it loyalty to a friend," Dumbledore said. "I am curious, why did you just refuse the school's Special Award for Services to the School?"
It is obvious.
In any case, it would be unwise for Malfoy to become too deeply involved with the Chamber of Secrets, whether in a positive or negative way. And when he began to suspect that the "diary was a Horcrux," this desire to avoid getting involved in the slightest reached its peak.
Of course, he could not tell the truth.
"I do not think I deserve it. I did not put in the same effort as Harry and Ron..." Draco said, racking his brains.
"Is it because of this diary?" Dumbledore asked pointedly.
"Why...why would you think that?" Draco finally asked in surprise.
Is it really that obvious? he wondered, puzzled. He had not really looked at it since he came in.