( :'( The reason I haven't updated for so long is because I was waiting on reviews. I don't know if I've said this yet… but reviews are like… my muse! I can't create without it! :( I don't know where all my followers went, but you made me so utterly depressed when you didn't review. Anyway… *sigh* I won't be doing that parody I was thinking of. Also… please write gabbaeebatasheeba in your review if you actually read these notes I write.)
CHAPTER EIGHT: MIDNIGHT DUEL
Christmas arrived all too early. Harry barely had time to think about buying presents. Exams took over his mind and then there were the Quidditch games and the extra research he was putting into the unicorn's blood which led him to never-ending hints and clues which never really went anywhere except in circles. Then there was Draco who, for some reason, hadn't stopped watching him like a hawk ever since... ever since the troll incident. And there was Snape, who had taken to giving him detentions all the time for the most nonsensical reasons. Harry didn't mind, because for some reason Snape had decided to stop hating him so much and Harry liked not being hated.
Draco accompanied him to the detentions and both the professor and his best friend continued to make curious comments. Harry was still unsure of the purpose behind them, but for some odd reason Harry retained their words – maybe just for the sake of being able to surprise them if they ever decided to ask him about the information. They hadn't yet, but from what he'd learnt by being a student of Snape, the professor loved springing things on you when you least expected it. And when you did expect it as well – making it that much harder to ever correctly expect at all.
The platinum blonde boy sitting parallel to Harry in the library, who'd been staring at him, waved a hand in front of the boy's face, "Harry, I swear to Merlin if you haven't heard a word I've been saying I'm going to break your glasses. Again."
He was referring to the last time he'd snapped Harry's glasses, accidentally, but that didn't matter to Draco. He'd claimed the breakage with a wicked smirk and eyes of pure evil. In response, Harry transfigured Draco's other sock into two mittens and wore them enthusiastically. Draco only noticed the lack of his socks and ranted for about a week about some house elves stealing his clothes. Hermione had fixed it with reparo once she'd noticed and had given the air next to her a sharp glance. It made Draco smirk and Harry couldn't help but wonder what she'd been looking at.
"Oh, be quiet, Draco. I'm thinking of what to get you for Christmas," Harry snorted at him.
"Oh," was all Draco could say, but after a second thought he continued with, "You know, you could tell me what you're thinking and I could then relay to you whether or not I would like what you're thinking about."
"Draco. Honestly, what would be the point in that? I'd might as well tell you what I'm going to get you," the brunette retorted.
Draco refused to let the blush he felt show and instead scowled at his best friend, "I like the colour green, if that helps."
"It really doesn't, Draco. Everyone in Slytherin likes the colour green. I like the colour green, but I also like people, so I suppose that rules out Slytherins being all the same," Harry poked his tongue out at Draco, who's scowl deepened in anger.
"I like people, I'm just more selective and I'm-"
"Picky."
Draco glared at him, but continued nonplussed, "Of higher expectations, than you are. Being a pureblood makes liking people a hard task. I'm not allowed to like people who don't meet me in status and thus I have to be-"
"A snobby git?" Harry supplied with a raised eyebrow.
"Picky," Draco decided to concede with a sigh.
"I don't get you sometimes, Draco. You're a perfectly logical person," He paused after frowning, "Mostly logical person," Harry corrected, "But you can't see past the limits of your views, can you?"
"At least I have views, Potter."
"I have views, but they're..."
"Non-existent?" Draco put the word out there, with a winning smirk.
"Ambiguous and vague," Harry hissed back. He didn't want to mention his life changing discovery about his new quest to become stronger to protect people he cared about in his place. It wasn't a view he was sure was correct yet and he wasn't comfortable sharing it. Which made it rather ambiguous and vague – Harry wasn't one to lie.
"Not nice, is it?" Draco questioned, referring to the fill-in statements.
"Not at all."
"Well, then – what are you getting me?" Draco asked, the question still biting at his mind. He thought maybe he'd take Harry off-guard after their verbal battle.
"A sense of humility," Harry smirked back at him, not one to be taken off-balance.
"Well, you definitely have some to spare."
Harry grinned, one of his bright grins and it was one of those moments when Draco forgot what he'd been trying to turn Harry into. He forgot everything that made Harry the perfect Next Dark Lord. He forgot that they were even insulting each other. For those few seconds, they were just Harry and Draco. And the little seedling in Draco's mind loved these moments more than anything – for it did more than survive, it thrived. In fact, Draco was beginning to sense it, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was. It just made Draco feel a little... curious whenever he was around Harry. Apprehensive, sort of. Like at any moment he should expect something to happen which was very unlikely, but possible. It made no sense to Draco, so he just ignored it.
"Well, I was thinking about buying you some socks," Harry chuckled back.
It launched Draco into a tirade about house elves, which Harry fought the urge to break out into laughter at. Instead, he rubbed his hands, which were currently in the said mittens, and adjusted his scarf around his neck. Madam Pince, the librarian, hissed at Draco and promptly shut him up.
"Well, I'm getting you a sense of style, I can't let you walk around like a..."
"Half-blood?" Harry proffered.
"I was going to say a nest of birds, but they're about even, so – yes, like a half-blood. You, Potter, need some style."
"I have style. It just happens to be half-blooded," Harry reasoned.
"More like half-assed. Did you even have a bath yesterday?" This was asked with a wrinkle of Draco's nose.
Harry's face felt hot and he pulled the scarf away from his neck, "Well..."
"That's disgusting, Harry. Really... deplorable," Draco continued muttering insults under his breath.
"At least I don't spend half an hour doing my hair in the morning," Harry spat.
"I do not spend half an hou-"
"I've timed you. Sometimes you take longer."
Draco went silent as he contemplated a reply, but after a while still nothing was forthcoming, so he admitted his defeat with a coolly said, "Touche."
"I win," Harry laughed.
Draco rolled his silver-blue eyes and thumped back into his chair. He eyed the hunt figura which was sitting on Harry's shoulder, and the creature stared at him right back. Cautela was... unnerving to say the least. The way it shifted forms continuously gave Draco goosebumps, yet at the same time it fascinated Draco. What he'd do for a pet like that...
"What are you getting me for Christmas?" Harry asked, his eyes wide and trusting.
Draco couldn't bring himself to insult the brunette and replied truthfully, "I've already gotten it. And trust me, it'll be perfect."
In fact, it would be – but only for Draco and Snape. It was dark arts book which took you to a different and out-of-time dimension to learn spells. The only draw-back was that the one who was learning the spell had to stay in the book until they'd reach master level.
"Made any progress?" Draco jutted his chin at the book in front of Harry.
"Well, sort of. The centaur was right about what unicorn blood does to you, but – it can also do so much more. But the descriptions are vague and I've no idea what half of them mean. I know someone who would, but I don't feel like dragging anyone else into this."
"Who?" Draco asked impatiently.
"Hermione," Harry replied.
The seething look Draco shot him was more than answer enough.
"Fine, we'll figure this out by ourselves," Harry grumbled, already forgetting about the unicorn blood and instead trying to wrap his head around a present which would be welcomed by Draco. Nothing came immediately to mind, which annoyed him to no end.
...
"Christmas is in three days, Harry."
"I haven't gotten it yet, Draco."
...
"Two days..."
"No, Draco."
...
"You know tomorrow is C-"
"Not yet, Draco."
...
"You better have my present, Potter," Draco grumbled on Christmas morning.
"With the way you've been acting, I really shouldn't, Draco," Harry moaned back, but continued, "But I have gotten you one."
Draco's eyes widened with joy and his mouth was actually stretched into one of his rare smiles – not a smirk.
The sun was barely up and people all through the dorm were groaning their protests at the two boy's disturbances. It amused Harry to no end, annoying his dorm-mates like this and Draco, with a large smirk, was obviously taking pleasure from it as well. Nothing much had changed within the common room, except someone had erected a Christmas tree and placed it parallel to the fireplace. Underneath it sat a pitiful pile of presents. Apparently, Slytherins didn't really celebrate the holiday that much. Draco had explained that the exchange of gifts wasn't usually so open and was done in private. It all seemed a little suspicious to Harry, but he let it go without comment.
"There," Harry pointed to a tiny wrapped gift.
Draco instantly felt cheated, "And what is that?"
"Open it and you'll find out, you bloody git," Harry muttered under his breath just loud enough for Draco to hear.
"It better be good," Draco whined as he knelt beside it, picking it up experimentally and giving it a shake. A small rattle sounded inside the present.
It was a just a simple little box, the wrapping paper nothing more than cheaply dyed cardboard, kept together with a pathetic bow ties who's curls were limp and a lot less springy then they properly should've been. The sadness of it almost wanted to make Draco laugh in depression. Slowly, hoping not to disappoint himself too quickly, he pulled apart the wrapping and came face to face with a cardboard box.
Draco opened the lid and found nothing in it. There were no words for how ridiculed he felt.
He raised his eyes to Harry's and found the brunette to be smirking. Harry hadn't bought a Christmas gift for him after all. Harry, seeing the dismayed look on his friend's face, rolled his eyes and sighed, "You really are a git. There is something in there, Draco."
Draco frowned and tipped the box upside down and out fell a small metallic object. It clinked on the floor and Draco watched it, his eyes never leaving the metal piece. As soon as it stopped, he reached over and picked it up. It was a small miniature of Cautela's favourite form. As Draco took in the amazing detail of the shape, which was no bigger than his thumb, Harry explained the gift.
"I always saw you watching him whenever you could. It took me ages to get the shape right, but in the end I got it," Harry relayed this information with the satisfaction he'd felt when he finally perfected it.
"What is it made out of?" Draco asked, though he still hadn't taken his eyes of the replica piece of metal.
Harry tried to hide the blush, "Well... I had a tin of toy soldiers that I took from... home. They were my favourite toys. Well – my only toys. I only have one left now, but it was worth it."
It was then that Draco decided to tear his eyes off the perfect form. The gravity of the situation hit him. Harry had just wasted his only toys for him. It was at once both a horrible and amazing feeling. Horrible because he felt awful about the present he'd bought Harry as well as the motives behind it. Amazing because... no one had ever put so much thought into a present as Harry had. Draco's gift paled in comparison.
"So, do you like it?" Harry asked, his voice quiet and unsure – wavering even.
"Do I like it." Draco repeated, dumb-founded.
"Oh... I can always just get you something else," the tone in Harry's voice expressed the sadness he would never share with Draco in words. He'd put a lot of thought and dedication into this, but Draco might not like it...
"You git! I don't like it... I'd got so far to say I love it!" Draco couldn't let that expression stay on Harry's face and surprising both of them, he pulled the glassed-boy into a hug so firm that it took the brunette's breath away.
"You-didn't-let-me-finish," Harry gasped.
Draco released him, gripping the figure in the palm of his hand.
As Harry regained his breath, Draco smirked at him, "Not fit, Potter?"
"Not used to being squashed by a Malfoy's hug, Draco. Now, shut-up and let me finish."
Draco was chastised for the moment and let Harry continue, "Now, I've managed to fiddle with transfiguration a little bit and this little figure will turn into any animal you think off, as long as you say figura transfigurum. Try it!"
The blonde, encouraged by the emotion in Harry's eyes, thought of an animal and whispered, "Figura transfigurum."
The little metal object melded into a snake with such accurate detailing that it caused Draco to gasp in delight, "Harry, that's... amazing! There's no other word for it, Harry."
"I'm just a genius, that is all," the brunette replied.
The silver eyed boy, too enamoured with his new present, gestured towards his own at the bottom on the pile, "That's mine for you, Harry."
Harry dived for it and unwrapped it instantly. Draco watched the boy's face closely and was entirely bedazzled when Harry's mouth twisted into a bigger grin.
"Draco, this is brilliant! I really needed this book, thanks a lot," spouted the happy eleven year old.
There was a single present left under the tree with a simple scribed word on it – "Harry."
Draco felt a tinge of jealousy, but gestured to it impatiently, "You have another present, Potter."
Harry's face was the perfect image of confusion, "Who could it possibly be from, Draco? My aunt and uncle are more likely to ask for presents from me than ever give me one."
They both sat quiet as Harry mused. The blonde, ever impatient, rolled his eyes and picked the gift up. Carefully, he examined it and after a few seconds, passed it over to the brunette, "It's perfectly fine, Harry. In fact, I'd bet you 6 galleons that it's just some clothes."
Harry undid the thin string, gray-like in colour, and watched as the wrapping practically fell off, "Well, if I were stupid I would've lost 6 galleons."
"So, you've lost 6 galleons?" Draco asked with a smirk and Harry spread the cloth over him.
It was a simple cloak from what Harry could see, but it shimmered with light which didn't exist in the room. The blonde's mouth fell open, "Merlin sake's, Harry! That's an invisibility cloak! Bleedin' hell, who'd you get that from?"
After shaking it out to lay it against the length of his body, a small note fell out and Draco dived on it with excitement. Harry got a glimpse of the writing – small scrawl which was all loopy. It was unfamiliar, but at the same time... curiously similar to something in a distant memory which Harry couldn't quite grasp; so he ignored it.
Draco spoke the letter out loud, "Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you."
Harry's best friend gave him a long sideways look, "You have the weirdest friends, Harry."
"You're my friend, Draco," Harry decided to mention with a grin.
Rather than be insulted he took the comment in his stride, "Indeed, and as your friend, I have to say your associates are the most curious sort. Why, knowing you, it's highly likely that this came from some insanely long lost relative who is potentially a murderer that once... what's something unbelievable that a Potter would do? Ahah! From someone who believed completely in the ideals of pure-bloodedness. But due to a twist in fate decided to..." He ran out of things to make up – imagination wasn't one of his stronger points.
"That's ridiculous, Draco."
Not one to be perturbed, Draco waved his hand nonchalantly, "Well, try it on, I want to see if it works. Or rather not see if it works."
Harry rolled his eyes at his friend's antics as he slipped the cloak over his shoulders, tied it up at the front and flipped the hood to hang over his face, "Well, how do I look?"
"That would involve me being able to see you," Draco replied dryly, his eyes still wide however, as was Malfoy nature, still not giving anything away.
To all appearances Harry Potter had ceased to exist. Draco continued to stare at the spot where Harry had once been and was slightly caught off guard when a loud creak sounded behind him.
"Just 'cause the cloak makes me blind to you, it doesn't make me deaf too, you know," Draco harrumphed slapping his hand into the air. With a thump it collided into something and Draco gripped it tightly and gave it a heavy tug.
The hood slid off Harry's head and left the rest of his body missing. Draco raised an amused eyebrow at him and smirked, "Lonely, Harry? Cause it looks like you've got no-body."
"Har-har, Draco. That's hilarious," the sarcasm oozed off Harry's voice as he took the cloak off completely, "Better?"
"Incomparably, Harry," laughed the blonde.
The young wizard sighed and folded the cloak up, snatching up the note and staring at it. Draco watched him, with his usual hawk-like stare, and slumped down onto the common room lounge. Harry followed suit and fell into the chair perpendicular to him.
"Do you know who it's from?" Draco voiced the question which Harry himself was asking in his mind.
"That's the thing. I've got no idea."
"Well, at least it's a thoughtful present," Draco supplied with appreciation.
"You've got a point. I've been needing to get around without people knowing lately," Harry mused out loud.
"You have?" asked Draco, trying to hide the anticipation creeping up his spine.
Without replying, Harry fell into silence, brooding on the subject of the unknown Christmas fiend.
...
"You're a murderer!" shouted a voice with a tone much like someone whom Harry knew to be... gone.
The pair turned around to find a teenager, only a few years older than them, whose eyes were fiery with anger only accentuated by the red-hair sitting haphazardly on his head. He was pointing an accusatory finger at Harry, shaking, quivering with such a rage Harry had only ever seen in half-remembered dreams. The teenager's body was tense and the hand which wasn't challenging the young wizard was gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles were white.
"Percy?" asked a small girlish voice somewhere down the hall and Harry realised it was Hermione.
Why would Hermione know this boy for? Harry wondered as he took in the awful situation. And then everything snapped into place. The red hair. The accusations. The anger. And then everything came rushing back. Ron's death was his fault. Oh god... it was all his fault. The guilt consumed the brunette again.
Draco noticed instantly the dimming of his eyes and intercepted, "What do you want, Weasley?"
"I want his life, Malfoy. A life for a life. Potter needs to pay up," growled the prefect.
Harry was silent for a moment, but his thoughts fixated onto the moment where he'd found a new reason to be alive. He needed to be stronger. He couldn't let this person step on him – he knew he'd been too weak to protect Ron. He wouldn't be weak again. He couldn't allow himself to be crushed – he had to be strong and he had to be better than what everyone thought of him. Harry's new view concreted in his mind.
So, he lifted his chin up and met Percy – eye to eye.
"And how would you like it served up, Percy? On a platter with an apple in my mouth?" Harry's voice was low, but it slid through the air with such clarity that it sliced into red-head's anger, "Because where would be the honour in that, Weasley?"
Percy gritted his teeth and for a second Draco swore he heard the wand in Percy's hand crack from the intensity he was gripping it with. The red-head took a deep, drawn-out breath and licked his lips.
"You're right, Potter. There's no honour in taking your life without a fight. I demand a wizard's duel."
The audience in the hallway gasped. The No one would talk about this, of course, as this was dangerous stuff.
"That sounds more like it," Harry grinned, "I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Harry, his voice dark, more cold than Draco had ever heard it.
"Tonight, if you want then. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose," snorted Percy.
"Of course he has," said Draco, wheeling around, "I'm his second, who's yours?"
Percy, who now had a slightly surprised look on his face, gestured to a Gryffindor standing by his side and then, with one last look of complete derision which was aimed at Harry, stormed off. Whispering ensued and Harry scowled at them all causing the audience to shut up and shuffle away from the to-be-dead-man. When there was sufficiently very little people left the brunette turned to the blonde and asked, "What is a wizard's duel? And what do you mean, you're my second?"
"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Draco casually, wiping off some invisible dirt from his shirt. Catching the look on Harry's face, he added pleasantly, "But people only die when they're facing someone who is stronger than them. Percy has zero chance in winning this duel."
"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" asked Harry with simple dread.
Draco rolled his eyes, "That's hardly going to happen. Besides – you've got my Christmas present to help you master some. Remember, it takes you into an out-of-time dimension. Brilliant timing, wouldn't you say?"
"I have half a mind to blame you for this, you know, after saying something like that."
"Well, you'll never know, will you?" drawled Draco.
...
"They said the locked trophy room, right?" asked Harry calmly, letting his gaze drift around the room.
A simple alohomora and they were in. There was nothing much in the room, anyway. That was probably the reason it was locked. Ashamed by the lack of trophies they had decided to lock the room so that it would give the assumption that they had trophies to keep secure. Harry doubted that however. They were most likely hidden by a spell or kept in a secret compartment in the room.
Draco whined, striding back and forth, as impatient as ever, "By Merlin's beard, its half past midnight already. You'd think he'd at least have the decency to arrive on time, after all he was the one who challenged you to the duel in the first place."
Harry's nose wrinkled in distaste at the tone in his friend's voice, "Draco, honestly, you sound like a girl. Shut-it."
Draco cast him a sideways look and then sighed, admitting his defeat, then with a loud groan he lowered himself to a small stool and propped his chin up with his arm which was resting on his knee. Draco and him both were wearing school robes, because as Draco had explained to Harry – wizards' duels were messy things; usually drawing blood, among other things.
Harry had spent almost a week in that book, mastering different spells. He came out exhausted, but because of the out-of-time qualities that the dimension had, he had been there for little more than a millisecond. Afterwards, he'd slept until Draco had dragged him out of bed for the duel.
And they'd been there for half an hour already. Harry was about to call it a night when a knocking rang out on the door. Draco hissed through clenched teeth, "What does he want to do? Alert the whole school that we're illegally duelling here?"
Harry had much the same sentiments, but didn't express it quite as Draco had, "Just open the door, Malfoy."
"Figures, doesn't it. As soon as I sit down I have to get up," whinged the blonde.
Harry rolled his eyes, "Well, you are closer. Blame your positioning if you wish to blame something."
With another sigh, Draco walked to the door and pulled it open. Standing there was not who they were expecting. In fact, not who they were expecting at all – not even the slightest. Harry, who was standing in a position where he had no view of the stranger, stepped out. When he recognised the intruder, his mouth fell open. Draco was having a hard time comprehending the situation and just stepped out of the person's way as they walked into the trophy room and closed the door behind them.
"Well, now that you've let me in I have a few things to say. You mustn't go wandering around after curfew, think of the points you'll lose for Slytherin if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you. Aren't you glad I've told Professor McGonagall about this nonsense and kept your names out of it?"
"Granger!" Draco snapped, the first one to gain his bearings. He made little secret of his hate for the muggle-born girl, but Harry had begun to rub off on him and he less frequently called her insults to her face – or at least when Harry was around. Which unfortunately he was, otherwise she would've gotten a mouthful.
She sniffed her nose at them, "Well, if that's all the thanks I'm going to get I might as well tell Ron to wake up the others and dob on you right here and now. Honestly."
Harry ignored the Ron part and caught Draco's eye, warning him against further comments, "I'm sorry for that greeting Hermione, except we were... sort of expecting someone else."
"Terribly prepared to kill someone, weren't you, Harry?" Hermione asked, her bushy eyebrow raised.
Harry growled, "I'll have you know, I was going to do it quick and painlessly. One spell. And he would've been down. Unconscious. Not dead. It took me almost a week to learn it so well."
"Wherever did you find a week to learn it in?"
Draco cleared his throat loudly and gestured at her, "Nevermind that, Granger. What happened to Percy after you snitched on him?"
"Well, I think snitched is rather a crass term, a bit beneath a pureblood such as yourself," Hermione snarked, but continued nonetheless, "However, as soon as Dumbledore became aware of the wizards' duel which he had challenged you with, Percy was expelled from the school."
"Ron wouldn't have been very happy about that, Granger," smirked Draco.
Hermione's eyes snapped towards his and Harry could literally feel the heat smouldering in her gaze, "I'll have you know, Malfoy, that Ron would've supported me entirely."
"Thanks, Hermione," Harry muttered, a weight lifting off his shoulders.
He'd been prepared to go through with this, but he hadn't really wanted to. Draco watched his reaction in the corner of his eyes and filed it away for further use. Hermione smiled in response to brunette and nodded her head respectively.
"Ron always wanted to know why I have defended you so fervently. If he was here, I would've told him it's because there is something about you which I feel I can trust. It may not be completely light or even right. It's nonsense really; I'm hardly a 'go by the gut-feeling' type of person, but... I have a feeling you'd do just as much for me as I'd do for you," Hermione looked just about beet-red by the time she was finished and she cleared her throat, "Anyway, we'd best be going back to sleep. We don't want Filch catching us. Come along, then."
As Harry followed her out, Draco watched in silence. What she had said was everything he, himself, thought. There was something about Harry which did just that. Draco had assumed it was the just the qualities of the Next Dark Lord shining through... but if a mudblood could see it and trust it – maybe it was something else entirely?
"Care to join us, Draco?" Harry quipped the blonde.
He scowled as he was shaken from his musings and shadowed them out the door, but not before grabbing the invisibility cloak which Harry had forgotten. After a few minutes they arrived at the stairs which split Gryffindor from Slytherin. Harry regarded Hermione with a soft smile and she grinned at him back. Draco watched with a roll of his eyes.
"If you're finished with the pleasantries, can we leave?" sniped the silver-eyed boy.
"Oh, shut-it, Malfoy. Night, Harry," Hermione waved as she disappeared up the stairs.
"Draco, you know, sometimes... You're-"
"Devilishly amazing?" Draco supplied with a smirk.
"Down-right annoying. Hermione practically saved our lives and you didn't give her so much as a thank-you."
"I'm a pureblood. We don't thank muggle-borns. It's not in my blood," Draco shrugged.
Harry let out an exasperated sigh and continued on to walk up the stairs. He froze in thought and turned to Draco, "Say – have you seen Cautela all night?"
The blonde shook his head, and not even a single strand of hair fell astray, "Not a glimpse. Why?"
Harry rubbed his chin in thought as he proceeded to walk to the dorms, "Well, it's something I can't tell you about. Needless to say, it intrigues me. Cautela is often interested in... similar things. Anyway," the brunette waved a dismissing hand, "We're going hunt figura hunting tonight."
"I'm ashamed, Harry. Purposely putting into jeopardy our house's chance to win the House Cup, like that. Terribly ashamed," Draco uttered with his almost pitch-perfect imitation of Hermione's voice.
Harry couldn't resist the grin which spread across his face, "Where's the fun in sticking with the rules?"
Draco smirked, "Where indeed."
...
"Cautela?"
"You honestly think you're going to find him like that, Potter?" Draco asked, a snarl in his voice and the exhaustion tugging at his emotions.
"Works like a charm, normally," Harry replied with a shrug.
"Well – there's only one more place to look, you realise."
"Third floor?" Harry asked, knowing that he was right.
"Forbidden corridor," Draco corrected.
"Well... we're already here."
And so they had been for the last five minutes, sitting underneath the invisibility cloak, staring at the steps which led to the third forbidden floor.
"I can see that, Harry, but I've been waiting on you to make up your mind."
"Waiting on me? That's rich! I can tell you don't want to go up as much as I don't," Harry spat.
They sat in brooding silence.
Then a sound made them both leap for the stairs. It was a meow, at night it echoed around the building and bounced off the walls.
"Mrs Norris!" whispered Harry as they flew up the flight of steps, falling over themselves.
Sweat pouring down their faces. Breath hot on their lips. Air rushing through their hair. Hands pumping by their sides. Legs feeling wobbly and leaden. Running like hell. They were bolting like there were demons, which can shoot blazing fireballs from their mouths, who reside in hell, on their heels. They'd reached the end of the corridor and came to a single door.
Draco tugged at the handle, but found it was locked. Harry fumbled for his wand and whispered through laboured breathing, "Alohomora."
The lock clicked open and Draco dragged the door forward before slamming it shut behind them. Panting like hell, they tried regaining their breath. As their breathing began to normalise a new sound became apparent in the room. Something was growling. It was then they discovered why this particular floor was forbidden.
The why had three heads, stood at least two men high and looked extremely hungry for some juicy, tenderised, magic flesh. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.
And then Cautela appeared, almost out of nowhere, a few melodic notes thrumming from his throat. Harry couldn't tell what he was, but whatever he was he was calming the monstrous dog down. The dog with three heads. Which Cautela was talking to. Things fell in place in Harry's mind and a large grin grew on his face. His heart slowed and he took a deep breath. Everything was under control. He could handle this. A dark thought cackled in the back of his mind, but Harry ignored it. He'd think about what it meant later.
"You know, I'd be probably less inclined to die of a heart attack if I knew why you were smiling like that, Potter," Draco remarked and Harry remembered that he wasn't alone.
He was about to tell Draco what the animal was, when he realised he'd promised not to tell anyone what Snape had said. Harry swore under his breath, but an idea sparked in his mind. He cleared his throat and began, "Draco. Why is Cautela talking to an unknown beast?"
The pale boy's face crumpled up into anger, "How in the bleedin' hell am I meant to know, Potter?"
"Well, I can't tell you. However, Cautela is not usually so nice to things which he doesn't find similar."
The understanding dawned in Draco's eyes, "This is an adult hunt figura? But it's so... big. And... well – who's is it?"
The need to tell Draco the truth was quickly reined in by the promise he's given Snape. Harry growled in frustration, "Can't say. However, nice deductions. I can't believe this is what they're keeping up here. For Merlin's sakes, why?"
Harry bit his bottom lip in thought. The hunt figura continued to sing it's beautiful song. Even Draco was taken by it, but he shook the warm feeling off.
"Is that a trapdoor?" Draco asked, pointing to the floor underneath the large and rather terrifying paws of the monster.
"It's guarding something," Harry mused.
"Guarding what?" asked Draco, gathering his courage – which had fled him since they had first made acquaintances with the monster.
Cautela trilled at Harry and fluttered over to sit on his shoulder. The three-headed beast was blinking wearily and as Harry watched it yawned, then promptly fell asleep, collapsing directly onto the trapdoor. Harry let out a disappointed sigh and scratched Cautela under the chin.
"We're hardly going to find out tonight, now."
"Well, we'll sleep on it then," Draco advised, yawning now too.
Harry blinked tiredly and suddenly realised just how exhausted he felt, "That's a brilliant idea, Malfoy. And thank you for your help, Cautela. We'd be dead meat otherwise. Literally."
The hunt figura squeaked and Harry could've sworn that he smiled at them. But Harry shook off the feeling as a symptom of not-sleeping enough and strode out of the room. They returned to the Slytherin dorm and promptly crumpled into their respective beds. As their heads hit their pillows they were already asleep.
Tomorrow more researching would ensue. And maybe... they'd talk to Hagrid about the monster on the third floor.
The small thought popped back into Harry's head during his dreams, What am I becoming that, when comfronted with a three-headed monster, I can face it with a calm heart? Maybe... maybe I am the Next Dark Lord? However, this didn't arrive in his dreams as that particular sentence. Harry dreamt about a shroud of darkness taking him over and then everything just disappearing - apart from Draco, who was sitting next to him, nodding eagerly. Snape's face loomed towards him with a smirk and Harry found himself laughing, darkly.
It was a dream Harry didn't forget. And he didn't fear. The feeling it enticed in him made him panic more than everything. Because... after waking from that dream he felt... excited.
...
(Sorry, guys. One of my shorter chapters. And I've forgotten whose commented. So here's a shout out for everyone. THANKS FOR READING THIS! )
