"Who else is here?" Draco asked as he approached Dumbledore from afar, his wand drawn outward, "I heard you talking."
"I often talk aloud to myself." Dumbledore told him, "I find it extraordinarily useful. That which sounds sane at a whisper can seem utterly mad when said for all the world to hear. Haven't been whispering to yourself, have you, Draco?"
Draco looked at Dumbledore with uneasiness in his eyes as beads of sweat formed above his brow.
"You are not an assassin, Draco." Dumbledore told him with a calm sigh.
"How do you know what I am?" Draco spat at him, "I've done things that would shock you!"
"Like cursing Katie Bell," Dumbledore began, "And hoping she would, in turn, bear a cursed necklace to me? Like replacing a bottle of mead with one laced with poison. Forgive me, Draco, but these are attempts so feeble I cannot help but question if your heart has been really in them. I'm curious. When Voldemort gave you this task, when he asked you to kill me, was it in a whisper?"