CHAPTER ONE
Professor Trelawney, visiting a sick student, stepped inside the hospital wing. She had barely taken three steps when she suddenly jerked upright. Her head turned into a rigid mask, as her glazed eyes stared straight ahead. Her mouth opened as an eerie voice, which sounded like it came from the grave, came out of her lips.
"Someone walking in the darkness must never follow the light or she will never see the light of day . . . within the enclosing darkness, the dark shadow will come knocking on the door. The cursed shall not escape the talons of death, and innocence shall be lost forever, never to return."
Then she fell on the floor with a faint hiss.
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A month passed by . . .
"Hey, Harry," whispered Ron, pointing a finger at Goyle's direction. "Look at Goyle over there."
Harry, who was scribbling notes furiously, glanced briefly toward Goyle's direction. Goyle was seated just several seats away from them. He noted the state of Goyle's robes; it was dirty and soiled.
"Seems like he hadn't slept for days," Harry murmured.
"Yeah," agreed Seamus, who was seated behind them. "He seemed awfully in need of a bath."
Dean, who was sitting next to Seamus, snickered loudly.
"I wonder why he's not with Malfoy?" Harry mused.
"Probably because he stinks."
Seamus and Dean sniggered loudly.
"Shut it," said Harry, in a low voice. "Higgin's looking this way."
They immediately stopped talking. Their Apparating Training class instructor, Professor Angus Higgins, was looking pointedly at them.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Weasley?"
"Er, nothing professor," Ron lied, his cheeks turning red. He glared at Seamus and Dean, who were laughing silently.
The professor gave him a quelling look. "Very well, pay more attention to the lecture, Mr. Weasley."
When the professor finally turned his attention elsewhere, Ron elbowed Seamus.
"How come he only noticed me," he muttered.
"Probably because of your hair," Seamus whispered, grinning widely.
"What about it?"
"It's red."
"So what if it's red?"
Seamus shrugged. "Better dye your hair blond, mate."
"And end up looking like Malfoy," Ron said vehemently."No way!"
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They were on their way back towards the castle for their next class.
"Why were you all late?" asked Hermione.
"Fred told Ron about a short cut through the Forbidden Forest," Harry replied bitterly. "We got lost. And if Bane didn't point us to the right direction, we'd still be lost out there."
"It's Fred's stupid fault," Ron snapped.
"Why do we have to be in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, anyway?" Ron grumbled.
"Ron," Hermione said, "have you forgotten? We can't apparate within Hogwarts' grounds."
"I know that," Ron grunted. "But why of all the places they could pick, it had to be the Forbidden Forest?"
"Well, probably because it's big enough to accomodate the dome we're using to practice apparating."
"I still think it's better if we practice somewhere else," Ron grumbled.
Harry made a sound of agreement.
"Well, I think the Forbidden Forest is a splendid spot to practice apparating."
"Hey, Harry, wait up!"
Dean came up from behind them.
"Guess what I just heard from Ernie McMillan?"
They looked at Dean, waiting for him to say more.
"Well?"
"Ernie said Justin Finch-Fletchley overhead Malfoy planning to pick a fight with Harry tomorrow during lunch hour."
"And?" Ron asked, glancing at Harry.
"Everyone's making bets that Harry will beat Malfoy, odds of two to one," Dean said with a wide grin. "Ernie's betting three sickles and one chocolate frog."
"What do you think, Harry?" Ron looked expectantly at Harry, watching his expression.
Harry shrugged.
"Malfoy couldn't possibly do anything to Harry during lunch hour," Hermione protested.
"Hermione, have you forgotten the last time he tried to hex Harry?"
"Watch it," Dean warned. "Malfoy's coming."
They glanced behind them. Sure enough, Draco Malfoy was a few distance away from them. He was alone.
"Why don't you take on Malfoy now?" Dean suggested. "Crabbe and Goyle are not with him."
"Yeah, Harry," Ron agreed. "Turn him into a ferret."
"Harry, don't," Hermione pleaded. "You'll only get into trouble."
"C'mon, Harry," Dean said eagerly.
"Harry-" Hermione seemed frantic.
"Hermione!" Ron glowered at Hermione.
"But, Harry, you know you shouldn't!"
"I know, Hermione." Harry sighed wearily. "So quit your worrying."
Hermione let out a relieved sigh.
"Aww, Harry," Ron whined.
"Let's go."
"If you say so," Ron grumbled, but followed Harry and Hermione.
Dean shot Malfoy a suspicious look, then scrambled after the trio.
Draco was aware that Harry, along with Dean, Hermione and Ron were just a few distance ahead of him. He didn't take any notice of them, even when they stopped and turned to look at him. He had other things in his mind.
"Draco?" a hoarse voice called out.
Draco turned around - and to his utter surprise, it was Goyle. His eyes were bloodshot, his robe was dirty and unkempt.
"You look awful, Goyle."
To Draco's surprise, Goyle dropped onto the ground and burst into uncontrollable tears, howling like a helpless five-year-old. He sat down next to him.
"Goyle, don't be such an idiot," he said, a frown on his face. "Tell me what's wrong now?"
Goyle struggled to get up, panic written all over his face. Draco tried to help him up but Goyle gripped his arms painfully.
"Draco, please help me."
"What?"
Goyle was clearly terrified.
"I need to hide from them," he begged tearfully. "They musn't find me."
"Goyle, you're not making any bloody sense," Draco said in exasperation.
"They musn't," he repeated, seeming not to hear what Draco was saying to him. "They're evil . . . no one is safe. She's-"
"Have you lost it?" Draco looked at Goyle with pity, truly convinced that he had gone completely insane.
Goyle's eyes suddenly widened with fear and he pushed Draco away from him.
"Don't ever trust them or her," he rambled on. "Don't be fooled by their appearance!"
Before Draco could say anything, Goyle leaped forward. In his panic, he stumbled and fell to the ground. He scrambled to get up and ran like he was being chased by the devil.
"They're not going to get me, never!"
Draco remained rooted to the spot, staring at Goyle's retreating figure, clearly confused by what he just heard. It took him a while before he realized that if he didn't hurry, he would be late for class. He ran all the way to the castle, not stopping until he reached the Great Hall. In his haste, he bumped to someone as he turned around a corner.
"Watch it!" Draco said impatiently. He looked up and was startled to discover the person he had bumped into was the the Headmaster.
"No harm done, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore good naturedly. His eyes twinkled with good humor, appraising him.
Draco stood gaping at him. He wanted to tell him about Goyle, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to say it.
"Professor Dumbledore."
Draco turned to his right and recognized the Gryffindor Head Girl from a distance.
"Yes, Ms. Townsend?"
She quickly made her way to Dumbledore. She glanced at Draco and seemed very reluctant to talk.
"What is the matter?" asked Dumbledore.
She stepped closer to Dumbledore and talked to him in a very low voice.
'Whatever she told Dumbledore must have been urgent,' Draco thought.
He watched Dumbledore slowly turn away.
"Headmaster?
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
Both Dumbledore and the Head Girl turned to him. Dumbledore looked at him expectantly.
His heart seemed to beat faster.
"N-n-nothing," he lied, avoiding Dumbledore's all-knowing-gaze.
He stepped away from the two and quickly darted around a corner, running up a staircase leading to the corridor where Arithmancy Classroom was located. He arrived just in time. Professor Vector was about to enter the room.
"Professor Vector," he called out loudly to the professor.
The witch turned around to see Draco running towards her. "You're late, Mr. Malfoy. I hope you have a good excuse for that."
"I had a talk with the Headmaster," Draco answered. 'It wasn't an outright lie,' he thought.
"Very well," commented Professor Vector. "Go to your seat, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco quickly went inside and took a seat at the back. Placing his books down, he scanned the room looking for Goyle. Goyle was nowhere in sight. A deep frown creased his forehead, feeling oddly disturbed and uneasy. He stared at the doorway, expecting Goyle to enter the room at any minute.
Half an hour passed by, and Draco, feeling extremely worried, couldn't control his impatience anymore. The feeling of 'something wasn't right' continued to nag him. He swore under his breath, "Damn it, Goyle. Where the hell are you?"
He looked once more at the doorway, then glanced at the professor. He suddenly had an idea. He tipped his books on the floor with a loud thud then he let himself fall off his chair with a crash. All eyes turned on him, Professor Vector was immediately on his side.
"Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?"
"I don't feel too good," he mumbled. His pale face now chalky white, his brow covered with sweat. He lay there, holding his stomach, looking like he was in great pain. Professor Vector immediately conjured a stretcher and placed him on it. Within a few minutes, Draco was whisked away into the infirmary.
After Professor Vector left, Madam Pomfrey looked at him with disapproval, clucking her tongue loudly.
"As if I don't have my hands full," Madam Pomfrey complained loudly, "what with Trelawney still out cold, a dozen sick first years and now this."
"Madam Pomfrey, may I ask why Professor Trelawney fainted this morning?"
"Ms. Patil, I'm afraid I have not the slightest idea why," she replied, her attention on Padma Patil, who was seated near the Divination teacher's bedside. "She ought to feel lucky that some students, such as yourself, are very concerned about her well-being."
"I heard she fainted right here in the infirmary just a month ago."
Madam Pomfrey went over to where Padma was seated, forgetting about Draco.
"Yes, I'm afraid so, dear."
"Can we do something for her, you know, to make her feel better?"
"Well, let me see . . . you could . . ."
Since Madam Pomfrey was absorbed in talking with Padma, Draco manage to slip out of the infirmary. He headed to Dumbledore's office and nearly collided with Snape.
"Mr. Malfoy!" exclaimed Snape, in surprise. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Arithmancy Class."
"Sir, it's about Goyle," said Draco.
"What about Goyle?"
"Sir, he didn't attend Arithmancy Class," he began. "I can't find him anywhere."
"How about the Common Room," Snape suggested. "Have you tried looking for him there?"
"Obviously not," Snape commented when he failed to answer.
"Severus, is something the matter?"
They both turned to see Dumbledore.
"Mr. Malfoy, is there something you wish to say to me?"
"Goyle didn't attend his class. Something must have happened to him," Draco quickly blurted out.
"He's probably just in the common room," Snape interjected huffily.
"There's something you need to know," Draco said in earnest, "he's been having nightmares for the past three weeks and he hasn't been himself lately."
"Why didn't you tell me this?" Snape demanded.
Draco looked down, not knowing what to say.
"Mr. Malfoy, do you have any idea where he is now?"
There was no hint of reproach in Dumbledore's tone. All he could see was concern on the old man's weathered face.
"I don't know where he is," confessed Draco, a frown on his face. "Right after the Apparating Training class, I was on my way to my next class when I saw him. He broke down in tears. He was trying to tell me something."
He looked at Snape and Dumbledore. When they didn't say anything, he continued.
"He kept on rambling about someone being evil. Before I could make any sense of what he was saying, he took off in a hurry."
"Is that all he said?" asked Dumbledore, his face oddly serious.
Snape simply listened during this exchange.
Draco tried to recall what else Goyle had said.
"Before he took off, he warned me not to trust them or her. And something like not getting fooled by their appearance. I think those were his exact words, more or less."
Dumbledore's eyes mirrored the concern Draco felt.
"Severus," Dumbledore glanced at Snape. "I want you to search the whole school for Mr. Goyle immediately. Call the Prefects to help you."
Snape nodded curtly. He left in quick hurried strides.
"Sir, I'd like to look for Goyle, too."
Dumbledore faced Draco. He looked at Draco with quiet speculation in his eyes, before finally saying, "Find Hagrid first, tell him to take Fang with him and look for Mr. Goyle in the Forbidden Forest."
When Draco remained standing there.
"That will be all."
Draco stepped out of the room and headed towards the Hall. He remembered what his father used to say about Dumbledore.
'Dumbledore was merely an old imbecile, Muggle-loving, old fool.'
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Hagrid released Fang, letting him sniff the trees for traces of Goyle's scent. Suddenly, Fang became excited. Quick as lightning, Fang ran deep into the Forbidden Forest, with Hagrid in hot pursuit.
"Fang!", Hagrid shouted,"Did yeh see Goyle?"
Hagrid stopped dead in his tracks, clearly aghast.
"Wha' teh hell is tha'!"