A small bead of sweat trickeld down his forehead and fell on the cold, lithic floor of the Gryffindor common room as he silently pushed down the door handle. Cold air streamed in and rose his hackles, simultaneously banished the last warmth of the ceasing fire in the fireplace.
He had lain awake for hours, pondering about what he should do, until he finally realised the only possible solution was to face the truth and reveal everything. To talk about all the things that kept him up at night, that made him become cheerless and doleful, that made him push away everyone close to him.
Briefly, he hesitated. He closed the door behind him. All alone in the castle whilst everyone else had already fallen asleep. Quickly yet quiet, he made his way down the stairs of the seventh floor, always protected by his loyal invisibility cloak.
It took him a while to surmount the hundreds of steps, intersections and shortcuts of the castle he knew so well and had called his home for six years now, but when he finally reached his aim, he paused for a second. Nobody could have possibly seen him making his way down the tower, nevertheless he could hear his own heartbeat out of tautness.
Harry Potter took a deep breath before he pulled down his cloak and entered the Slytherins' common room.
Ron stood on top of the staircase when the huge, wooden door that seperated the Gryffindors from the rest of Hogwarts was closed. Although he did not see anyone leaving, he knew exactly who made tracks for a late-night adventure. Ron, always known as Harry's best friend, had a fitful sleep that night and, in fact, noticed that Harry left his bed at some point. Though he never was afraid of Harry and trusted him unconditionally, he was slightly disappointed of him. Why didn't Harry ask him to join? What would be confidential enough for him to conceal from his best friend?
„Nothing.", Ron silently said to himself and decided to follow Harry modestly.
For a second, he wondered if he should ask Hermione to accompany him, but immediately abolished the idea. Hermione would want him to stay and let Harry do whatever he was planning to do. „It's not like you have to know everything. You're not his wife.", he wispered in a voice which sounded nothing like Hermione. She wasn't there but he was already annoyed. Besides, he wouldn't even be able to reach the girls' dorms due to the rules.
The door of the common room opened and closed again. Not the last time this night.
The room in which the students of Slytherin spent their free time (It looks more like a prison than a common room, Harry thought.), looked exactly like Harry remembered it. When he and Ron had taken Polyjuice Potion to sneak in four years ago, they found themselves in a dark chamber under the lake. The green light and the dark furniture caused the depressing atmosphere that made Harry shiver. He tried to orientate in the darkness and low-spiritedly noticed that he had no idea where to go. Fortunately, he was Harry Potter. Fortunately, he had access to a lot of objects. One grasp in his poket and he was unfolding the Marauder's map, Fred and George gave to him in his third year at Hogwarts. It did not take long and he discovered what he was looking for. Or more precisely, for whom. The name appeared quickly, about 30 feet away from him, in one of the dorms on the right. It did not move. Asleep, like everyone else but Harry.
He stared at the map for a minute, as if he wanted to absorb the letters to make sure he was absolutely right. As he turned, he closed the map. „Mischief managed", he whispered.
The name „Draco Malfoy" faded away.