A/N: Title is inspired by a U2 song, for lack of a better idea. Please R/R. I appreciate anything, including flames. My house can get cold and they keep me nice and toasty warm.

Draco Malfoy the Second shivered as he walked down the corridor. Honestly, this was supposed to be a magical castle! Couldn't the founders have put some sort of warming charm upon the castle? Not to mention, he was hungry as well. He spent what he thought was two days wandering through the ruins of the old castle, trying to find a way out. It was his grandfather's fault, really; Draco Malfoy (The First), Order of Merlin First Class - a war hero who had raised his great-grandson on stories of his time at Hogwarts.

He had raised the younger Draco on stories filled with secret passageways, special rooms, and all the trouble he had gotten into during his days as a student at the ancient school. Draco had looked forward to seeing the legendary Slytherin dormitories and all of the classrooms, only to find that they had been part of the castle destroyed by Voldemort so many years ago.

The decrepit parts of the castle were strictly off-limits to students, but that didn't deter the young Malfoy. After all, it couldn't be that bad if the building was practically connected to the new Hogwarts. The legend about a monstrous three-headed dog was sure to be just that- a legend. He set out on a sunny Saturday simply planning to explore for the day, carefully remembering the way back to the doors.

Draco had felt confident about his ability to safely return, until a staircase moved (he didn't think they could even do that anymore!) and the memorized route back was blocked. He had spent the past few hours hopelessly wandering around the labyrinth of old corridors in a futile attempt to find an exit.

Now, he was hopelessly lost. Draco plopped to the ground with an annoyed sigh, then winced as he thought of what his father would say if he saw his heir acting in such an undignified manner. It's not befitting a Malfoy! One should act proper at all times, even when by yourself. To compensate for the brief lapse of manners, Draco arranged his cloak around him in a fashion befitting an aristocrat (or so he told himself) and leant his head against the rough stone wall.

How many hours had he spent down here? Or was it past that now? Had he really been traveling for days? Weeks? Would his teachers finally realize something was wrong and go searching for him? Would he still be alive, or would they simply happen upon a decaying old cloak? The Malfoy heir let out a loud sigh. He was cold, hungry, tired, lost, and very annoyed!

Grandfather's favorite phrase came to mind. It was one he would bellow after creeping up behind his only grandson – Constant vigilance! He had learned it from someone he and his friends called "Mad-Eye Moody." From eavesdropping on conversations between Grandfather and his friends, Draco had discovered that Moody was an old paranoid Auror who had turned Grandfather into a ferret once (if his uncle's story was to be trusted).

Draco pulled his wand from a pocket in his robes and held it upright in front of him. If he had constant vigilance, he would have been prepared and learned a spell to help him from getting lost. He vaguely remembered one mentioned at his home, but how did it go? Draco leveled his wand until it was parallel to the ground. It went something like…

"Show me!" he demanded.

The wand stayed stubbornly inert, and Draco glared.

"Point the way!"

"Show the path!"

"Find the exit!"

"Lead me!"

After many tried and failed attempts, Draco slumped down in defeat. "Stupid piece of wood," he muttered, scowling. He was tempted to snap his wand out of frustration, but then he would be cold, hungry, tired, miserable, and without a wand. Instead, he settle for shoving it into his pocket (not the back one, even though his grandfather wasn't around to yell at him) with great force, and released a second gusty sigh.

"Excuse me, are you lost?"

Draco whirled around at the question, knocking his head on the wall in the process. He cursed and rubbed the spot while he glared at the stranger who had managed to sneak up on him. Hadn't the boy learned it wasn't proper to creep around like that and scare people?

The boy looked like either a Sixth or Seventh year, with black messy hair and sparkling green eyes. A hesitant smile played around his lips, and he looked apologetic. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. It's just you looked like you were lost, and could use some help." He looked somewhat nervous, as if he expected his offer of help to be refused by the irritated younger boy.

However, the promise of getting out of the twice-cursed ruins made Draco forget his ire. He gave the stranger his brightest, most innocent smile and nodded his head. If it meant getting back to familiar ground and a warm dormitory, he would have agreed to kiss the Giant Squid. The stranger's half-smile increased into one of matching brightness.

"Great! It's this way." He started down the corridors, leaving Draco still sitting on the floor. He scrambled to his feet as the Seventh year (for now he was sure the boy was in his seventh year) turned a corner, hurrying to catch up. The only sound left was one set of footsteps echoing in the silence.

Draco's short steps did nothing to shorten the gap between the two students. The stranger traveled at an impressive pace, twisting through the hallways and nearly loosing the younger boy a few times. After the third such incident and once Draco's slight panic subsided (he was not going to loose his only guide out of here!) he stopped and yelled into the empty hall, "Could you slow down?!" For a heart-stopping minute he thought that he had actually lost his guide, until the boy reappeared at the end of a small corridor and gave Draco another smile. This one seemed less apologetic and more mischievous. "Sorry." He adjusted his pace to Draco's smaller gait, and they walked together down the corridor. "I'm Harry, by the way."

Draco straightened up. "Draco Malfoy the Second," He drawled, doing his best to imitate the way his father always introduced himself. He had always been told to say his name with pride, for he was a Malfoy deserving of respect. Harry looked at him in surprise, before it was quickly hidden away. "Malfoy, eh?" I think I've heard about another Draco Malfoy. The younger boy puffed up in pride. "That would be my grandfather, the first Draco Malfoy. He has an Order of Merlin, First Class for activities during the war. He's really my great-grandfather, but since my real grandfather died because of a potions accident, I just dropped the great."

Harry nodded, and continued walking, looking pensive. "It's been a long time since he was your age, then." Draco nodded. "I don't know how many years, but he says he went to school in the old Castle, which has to be…" He frowned a little as he tried to calculate the exact years, then quickly gave up. "at least 100 years ago."

Something in the his statement seemed to concern Harry, but he didn't say anything so Draco was content to simply follow the silent boy for now, trying to keep track of where they were going. The passages twisted and intersected, often three or more all crossing paths to form a larger corridor before branching away again. Piles of stone half-blocked some hallways, and occasionally the two boys would wander past a suit of armor that had collapsed on the ground. Harry seemed to travel the corridors without thinking, his feet automatically taking him where he wanted while his mind wandered.

What made Draco even more impressed was when Harry stopped in front of an old frayed tapestry. It looked like the cloth had once depicted a roaring dragon, but the colors had long since faded and all that was left was a moving blob of darker color. Draco broke the silence between the two boys with his incredulous question. "How did you know this was even here?"

Harry jerked out of whatever thoughtful trance he had been in and gave a slow smile. "Most secret passages you stumble upon at least once if you come here often enough. This used to be a more popular one, since it opens up just a few corridors away from the Entrance Hall. It has other entrances on almost every floor."

"Do you come here often?"

"Yes, enough to know my way around at least. It's peaceful down here, as long as you know where you're going." He ran a hand across a row of dusty stones about head-height before pausing and pushing against one. There was a slight rumble, and then a door stood in front of the two boys. "Don't you know this is off limits to students?" While it was perfectly alright for him to break the rules, he was a Malfoy. This boy couldn't be a pureblood, or else he would have introduced himself with his family name too.

Harry just raised an eyebrow. "Did you?" He turned back to the corridor, and waved at a painting he saw. It was in remarkable condition for the ruins, the picture still visible on the canvas and the frame only showing a bit of wear. The man dealing cards to the rest of the men paused to return the greeting with a stern glare. "Still wandering about, eh?" He called out. "When are you going to do something in this world? As long as you're stuck here for so long, might as well do something." Harry shrugged and gestured to Draco, standing behind him. "Just helping out."

One of the other men leaned towards the boys and pushed up the glasses hanging perilously on the tip of his nose. "Got lost on the staircases, I'll warrant. Sometimes even the old headmaster got lost, bless his soul. Of course, I never knew if that was his intention in the first place. Dumbledore always did love to explore."

Harry smiled at the man, and only Draco missed the sadness in his eyes. After a somber pause, he cleared his throat and turned towards the Malfoy heir, gesturing to the corridor stretching before them. "This is it, there's a door that opens up to the grounds just after than turn."

Draco nearly leapt in joy, and hurried past Harry. He took the turn at breakneck speed and barreled through the door, taking in a deep breath of the chill winter air as it hit his face. The sun was bright in the sky, and Draco nearly laughed in relief as he surveyed the beautiful grounds of Hogwarts. He had thought he would be stuck down there forever!

He turned back to the door, but Harry wasn't there. Draco frowned and headed back into the old passages. He went past the corner that had blocked the exit from sight, and all that greeted him was an empty corridor. The men in the painting had continued their game, silently arguing among themselves. Draco frowned and peered further down the corridor. It was then that he noticed something strange: only one set of footprints had disturbed the dusty floors where two boys had been walking only moments before. Draco gave one last glance at the painting, then slowly backed out of the ruins. Why hadn't Harry left footprints of his own?

A chill wind gusted through Draco, and he shivered in the biting air. The mystery of Harry pushed to the side in favor of more pressing matters, Draco hurried towards the new buildings, where a warm blanked and a mug of hot tea waited. He would write to his grandpa, he decided. If anyone could puzzle out this mystery, his grandpa would.