Draco dashed into the cavernous room, a bit daunted from his lecture from Bellatrix, but he knew he had handled it much better than he had the first time. He knew his time was extremely limited before Potter and his friends came, soon to be followed by himself, Crabbe, and Goyle. He did not know how he was going to save Crabbe, but it had something to do with the diadem. He had to get to the diadem. Draco knew exactly what the place looked like. The silver, slightly tarnished tiara sat on top of a chipped bust of an ugly warlock wearing a filthy, blond, curly wig. He just was not sure where. He chose the center path and hurried down it. He searched desperately for familiar surroundings, but he did not see anything. He looked to his right to avoid tripping over a giant, spiked shoe and then he saw it. He stared at it for a minute, soaking it in. If he was looking at the Vanishing Cabinet, then how was he going to get to the diadem? He now had a general idea in which direction to head, but he saw no ways of getting there. Well, he was a wizard, and he was for a reason. "Reducto!" he shouted, and he blasted through the wall of boxes. He leapt over the scattered debris, coughing as he inhaled the dust and smoke. He looked around frantically and saw a muddy green pole with many odd hats on it. He remembered the diadem being a bit further on, so he veered right and scampered further into the winding labyrinth of hidden objects. He passed the dead bird, the bottles of firewhiskey, the dreadful painting of a five-legged zebra, the anti-gravity boots, the moldy muggle books, and the dragon-ant farm. He was almost there; he could feel it. Finally, he saw the diadem gleaming in its mysterious ancient way through the dimly lit room. He grabbed it and felt chills running up his arm. Draco knew this was because it was a horocrux; Harry had told his entire story after the final battle between him and the Dark Lord.

He dashed back to the entrance of the room, the tarnished tiara gripped tightly in his hand. What was he going to do with it? He spotted a bright red, flashing hook hanging on a wall right on the wall across from the door. He gasped. Could it really be that simple? He slowly hung the diadem on the hook, almost afraid that it would explode or something like that, but it just hung there, swaying slightly. He heard the door form on the other side and he dove behind a stack of boxes, as three people stepped into the room.

"There it is, Harry!" yelled the blood traitor, Weasley. "It's right there!"

Well, that was easy.

"Wait!" shrieked the Granger girl. "It could be a trap! Voldemort knew that Harry knew it was the diadem and Harry said it was on the bust of a warlock that had a wig! Didn't you say that, Harry?"

Draco swore at her under his breath. The stupid little mudblood had to ruin everything, even when they were on the same side!

"Well, there's only one way to find out," said Harry. Draco breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the trio walking to the hook on the wall. Two of the pairs of footsteps stopped and hung back; Draco guessed that it was Weasley and Granger. Potter took the last few steps and Draco heard a small metallic clinking as he removed the crown from the wall. For a moment, there was not a sound.

Then Granger spoke. "Well…I suppose it's all right, then?"

No, really?

"I suppose so," agreed Weasley. "Wow, Harry, you must have a secret ally somewhere."

"Let's be thankful we were so lucky," he replied "and that there's someone looking out for us." Draco could not help smiling to himself as the footsteps faded. He was not smiling long, though. As quickly as their footsteps disappeared, new ones reappeared, students seeking refuge from the fight. Draco sat there behind the boxes, willing them to leave, but they did not, and he grew desperate. He did not know how long he crouched there for, his legs growing stiff and numb; it could have been one hour, or three. When they plucked up enough courage to reenter the fight, he knew. He sat there, gone of all feeling, mentally and physically. Even if he had been able to get up, there was nothing he could have done. There was not enough time left. He had saved Crabbe's life, but he barely rejoiced at the thought as hopelessness spread over him. He had not done enough.

Bellatrix would die.

Sorry that it's been a while; something I installed on my laptop messed it up, but I figured out the problem and it's all better now! By the way, the story isn't over, there's more!