Chapter 8: All Hallow's Eve

Blaise and Theo returned, both very much alive, from Hogsmeade just before the feast. Draco met them in the common room and ushered them directly up to the Great Hall. They were too distracted to ask questions-Blaise had bought a fanged frisbee in Hogsmeade, and Theo was objecting to his frighteningly detailed plan to torment Olive with it. This was fine with Draco; he still hadn't decided what he was going to do with the dog, and was a bit worried what they'd say when they inevitably entered the dormitory.

The feast was delicious as ever, made livelier this year by the Hogwarts ghosts, who flitted in and out of the House tables in a series of increasingly complicated gliding formations. Halfway through Nearly Headless Nick's impersonation of his own botched beheading, the answer smacked Draco like a physical blow square in his face. The mysterious room on the seventh floor, the one where he hid Hermione's books before he went home for the summer-that's where he should take the dog. He couldn't believe he was the only one who knew about the room, but he'd never met anyone there and his books had always been exactly where he'd left them. Surely, for one night, a dog would get on just fine.

The moment the desserts appeared on the golden plates before them, Draco rose from the table.

"Where d'you think you're going?" Blaise asked, through a mouthful of treacle. Draco gave him a supremely disdainful look.

"Were you raised by wolves?" Blaise tried to retort, but choked.

"That's an insult to wolves," said Theo.

"Well, if I see one tonight, I'll apologize," said Draco absentmindedly. He slipped quickly away from the table and out of the Hall before Blaise could catch his breath and ask more questions. The passageway to the common room was deserted, and if he was quick, he thought he'd be able to get the dog up to the seventh floor without being seen. He sped through the empty common room and into the dormitory, but once there, he stopped cold.

The dog was gone, and so was Crookshanks. Olive had returned to his pillow (why didn't she stay on Theo's bed?), and opened one eye in a way that suggested he was getting on her last nerve. He stared for nearly thirty seconds at his bed, then turned sharply and walked back through the common room, more slowly and attentively this time. They couldn't have gone far.

Crookshanks made it to bloody Hogsmeade by himself, a voice in his head reminded him. They could be anywhere. Pushing aside the first threatening tendrils of panic with some difficulty, he searched the common room until he was sure the dog wasn't there. He turned and retreated back up the corridor that led to the dormitories, wracking his brains as he went. Could they have sneaked into another dormitory? He paused, then shook his head. Dogs can't turn doorknobs, Draco, he reminded himself-and then froze in his tracks. No, dogs couldn't turn doorknobs. So then, how in the hell had the dog and Crookshanks gotten out?

He knew he hadn't left the door ajar-Theo would be crushed if Olive escaped, and besides, it had been closed when he'd returned from the feast. Mind racing, he returned to the dormitory and gave it another quick but thorough search. Nothing.

"Where the hell did they go, Olive?" he muttered, sitting on the edge of his bed to think. He reached out an absentminded hand to scratch the cat behind the ears, and paid dearly as she reared up and sank her teeth into his thumb. With a yelp, he jumped up at once, heart hammering painfully in his chest.

"What the…?" Olive drew herself up and hissed, ears back, tail lashing angrily in the air. Draco stumbled back, studying the cat from as far away as he could reasonably get. He'd never heard Olive hiss before, and although she didn't seem to like him quite as much as Ginny, she'd certainly never bitten him. He probably still smelled like the dog...but that wasn't right, he realized. She'd been wary of the dog at first, but she'd accepted him within minutes.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, lightly massaging his hand. Olive gave him a look of utmost suspicion before turning sharply away and settling back down on his pillow.

He was truly stumped, and didn't care for the feeling. He bit his lip, hoping this would somehow inspire him; instead, all it did was put the faint taste of blood in his mouth. Well, he'd need to think of something, otherwise-

"...an expression, Blaise," said Theo's voice, and he and Blaise burst through the door, startling Draco out of ten years of his life.

"I know," said Blaise hotly. "But think about it! When wolves get married-"

"Wolves don't get married," Theo interrupted impatiently.

"Like you could possibly know that," snapped Blaise. Theo sighed slightly, but seemed to decide this didn't warrant a response. Spotting Olive on Draco's pillow, he scooped her up and sat absentmindedly on the edge of Draco's bed, stroking her head and resting his cheek against her fur. Draco was seized, for the first time in his life, by the desire to trade places with a cat. He shook his head slightly and turned sharply to Blaise.

"Have you been talking about wolves this whole time?" he asked, in what he hoped was a faintly disdainful tone. Blaise opened his mouth, looking very pleased to have another audience for what he clearly considered a highly fascinating theory. However, at that moment Snape's voice, magically magnified, split the air above their heads.

"All students will return to the Great Hall at once. You will not be coming back to your dormitories tonight." Blaise frowned at Draco, then at Theo, who raised his head and shrugged. Draco bit back the irrational fear that Snape's bizarre command was somehow related to the dog's escape.

"What the hell's that about?" asked Blaise. Theo frowned and shook his head slightly.

"Dunno," muttered Draco. Theo stood and tucked Olive into the inner pocket of his robes. Blaise groaned.

"You're not bringing her," he said incredulously.

"You heard Snape, we're not coming back," said Theo defensively. "And I've already left her alone all day."

"All right, but keep her next to you the whole time, that's all."

"Yeah, I'll do that. Meanwhile, you can work on avoiding setting me on fire in the middle of the night."

Draco followed them out into the crowd of their similarly confused classmates, his dread and confusion mounting with every step. When they reached the Great Hall, they found all of Gryffindor hovering just beyond the door, grouped in threes and fours and muttering anxiously to one another. The Hufflepuffs turned up just behind Slytherin, and a few moments later Ravenclaw crowded in as well. Dumbledore swept into the Hall after the Ravenclaws. He waved a hand for silence, which was granted at once.

"I am afraid that Sirius Black has entered the castle this evening," he began. "Everyone will please remain calm, and do exactly as I say." He paused here to allow the gasps and yelps of fright inspired by his first statement to die down. "For your own safety, you will sleep here tonight while the teachers and I conduct a thorough search of the castle. Prefects will be stationed at the entrances to the Hall, and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to a teacher immediately." At this, Percy Weasley drew himself up impressively; beside Draco, Blaise smirked and Theo mimed sticking his finger down his throat. Dumbledore turned to leave, but stopped in the doorway.

"Ah yes, you'll be needing…" With a flick of his wand, the four House tables vanished, replaced by hundreds of thick purple sleeping bags. "Sleep well," he told them, closing the door behind him.

Uproar broke out at once. The Gryffindors moved around the Hall, excitedly relaying the thrilling tale to anyone who would listen. Ginny lost no time in seizing Theo's elbow and dragging him off toward the fireplace, and Draco followed; Pansy and Blaise had joined a few Ravenclaws in speculating wildly as to how Black had entered the castle. Draco feared he'd be sick if he listened, for a theory of his own was prickling insistently at the back of his mind.

There was nothing so unusual about a stray dog in Hogsmeade. What was unusual, though, was that a stray dog-who, by the look of it, had been a stray for quite some time-had been so quick to trust an unfamiliar person, and followed him so readily back to the castle. Draco had seen stray dogs before; they tended to lurk around Knockturn Alley and were normally skittish at best, aggressive at worst. However, if the dog wasn't a dog at all, but an animagus-an animagus rumored to be after Harry Potter, who everyone knew attended Hogwarts-and here, on a silver platter, was a Hogwarts student to lead him up to the castle…

Stop it. First off, he hadn't a shred of evidence Black was an animagus in the first place. Professor McGonagall had talked about animagi in a Transfiguration lesson a few weeks back; the process to become one was lengthy and complex, and according to the Ministry's registry, there had only been seven in existence this century. Of course, Draco himself had spent that lesson thinking how very easy it would be to shirk the laws requiring animagi to register with the Ministry in the first place, and wondering how many unregistered animagi were running around the country. He sighed slightly and leaned back against the stone hearth, watching as Ginny dangled a bit of ribbon for Olive to play with and relayed the story of Gryffindor's brush with Sirius Black. Theo nodded thoughtfully and looked up at the enchanted ceiling for a moment as Ginny finished her account, and something about his expression brought another memory to the surface of Draco's mind. On the first day of lessons, hadn't Theo and Pansy argued about something the Divination teacher had said, something about Harry Potter?

Dunno why you care. It all sounded like a load of nonsense to me.

Death omens are not a load of nonsense!

Potter's been at Hogwarts as long as us. Even she's got to know it's always something with him, hasn't she?

And then, later on in the hospital wing. He'd been quite drowsy, but hadn't Hermione said something about death omens as well? And-his blood froze-something about a dog?

"Theo," he interrupted. Ginny and Theo both jumped, and Draco wondered how long he'd been staring silently into the distance.

"Er-what?"

"The first Divination lesson-there was something about death omens, wasn't there?" Theo looked extremely confused.

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with...well, anything?"

"I didn't say it had," said Draco impatiently. "Tell me what happened. Exactly." Theo opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment Percy Weasley descended upon them. Theo scooped Olive up at once and returned her to his pocket.

"Lights are going out any moment now," said Percy shortly.

"Oh, how thrilling," said Ginny, rolling her eyes slightly. "Do tell us more." Percy gave his sister a look that communicated precisely how little he appreciated this.

"It's time you returned to your proper House, Ginny." Percy's eyes cut pointedly at Draco, who gave him the foulest look he could summon. Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"What're you talking about?" she demanded. "We're on the floor. You're not honestly going to tell me where I can and can't sleep on the floor?"

"Yes, I am. No sister of mine is going to spend the night with older Slytherin boys."

"We can hear you," muttered Theo. He drew his robes tighter around him, further concealing Olive from view.

"Though I reckon it'd be all right if it was Harry, wouldn't it?" said Ginny hotly.

"Now, that is entirely beside the point-"

"It isn't," snapped Ginny. "And I'm not moving."

"Ginny-"

"I'm going to stay with my friends," she went on coldly. "And I'm sorry if you're worried how that looks, but I really don't care."

"That's enough," snapped Percy. "You want to show a bit more respect for your family, Ginny. I'll have to write to Mum."

"Write to her," said Ginny dismissively. "I don't care." They stared daggers at one another for nearly half a minute, neither backing down.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Percy coldly. "And I hope it teaches you a lesson." With that, he turned on his heel and strode off in a huff. Theo was looking at Ginny as if he'd never seen anything so beautiful.

"I dunno where you get your nerve from, Ginny, but I'd like a bit of it," he said frankly. This, Draco felt, was a grave understatement. He found himself vividly recalling the way she'd stood up and led them out of the Chamber of Secrets last term, so smooth and strong and confident despite the hellish nightmare she'd just endured. He tried to think of something to say, anything, to express his admiration, but everything sounded unbearably trite. Instead, he poked Theo sharply in the ribs.

"The death omens," he reminded him. Theo looked startled.

"It's nothing," he said flatly. "We were reading tea leaves, and Trelawney took Harry Potter's cup and had a fit claiming she'd seen the Grim." He paused. "And then, like an idiot, Potter mentioned he'd seen a stray black dog following him over the summer and half the class lost their minds." He paused. "I thought Hermione would've told you. You should've seen her face," he added, now looking slightly amused. Draco's head began to spin.

"Right," he said vaguely. "Thanks." Ginny started to say something, but Draco scarcely heard her. Potter mentioned he'd seen a stray black dog following him over the summer.

Draco did not believe, for a second, in death omens or tea leaves or anything you might find in a star chart in Witch Weekly. He did believe in facts, and in coincidences-to a point.

Fact: over the summer, Sirius Black had broken out of Azkaban, supposedly on the hunt for Harry Potter.

Fact: Harry Potter had seen a black stray dog following him over the summer.

Coincidence? Draco found a black stray dog in Hogsmeade, months later, after Harry Potter had returned to Hogwarts.

Fact: the dog had mysteriously vanished between the start of the Halloween feast and Draco's return to the dormitory. Also during that time, Sirius Black had slashed the portrait leading into the Gryffindor common room in a failed attempt to get inside. Coincidence?

Draco had closed the dormitory door. Dogs didn't have opposable thumbs. Humans did.

Fact. Fact. Fact.

Hermione had written him a letter on the sixteenth of July-he remembered the date because he'd read an endlessly dull article in the Daily Prophet about an old woman's collection of charmed flowerpots and been angry that anyone had bothered to charm a flowerpot. He didn't remember the context, but she'd said something that had struck him as brilliant at the time, and now rang loudly and plainly through his mind. Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

Impossible: Harry Potter seeing the Grim.

Impossible (supposedly): breaking out of Azkaban.

Impossible (probably): a dog escaping a room with a firmly shut door.

Impossible: Sirius Black simply waltzing past the dementors at the gates.

Impossible (or so it said in Hogwarts: A History, according to Hermione, the only person in the history of Hogwarts to read that book): breaking into Hogwarts.

What remained? Sirius Black was an animagus. He'd watched Potter all summer, once or twice been careless and allowed himself to be seen. At the start of term he'd traveled North and hidden outside of Hogsmeade, where Draco found him this afternoon. Seeing a perfect opportunity to get into the castle, he'd allowed Draco to lead him past the dementors and into the dormitory, then waited until Draco went to the feast to return to his human form and leave the Slytherin common room. Fucking improbable.

With a jolt, Draco realized why Olive had bitten him. He did still smell like the dog. And yes, she'd accepted him at first, when she thought he was an ordinary dog. But she must've got quite a shock, he supposed, when this dog transformed into a murderous human lunatic before her very eyes. Draco frowned up at the ceiling. To get to the Gryffindor common room, Black would've had to pass the very crowded and (he was sure) very noisy Great Hall. For a murderous lunatic, he certainly hadn't done much murdering.

The lights went out then, plunging the Great Hall into darkness.

Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

And speaking of Hermione…

The lights had been out for...how long? It felt like twelve years. Hermione knew she'd never sleep; her nerves stood on end and chased one another around her body, making her painfully aware even of the air on her skin. At least Ron had fallen asleep-she could hear his snores, faint but unmistakable, somewhere to her left. Harry was quiet, though she didn't think he was sleeping either. Teachers swooped in and out, occasionally whispering to the prefects around them, and Hermione did her best to block them out until Snape's voice, deep and laced with something beyond his usual contempt, entered her ears from almost directly above.

"Headmaster? The whole of the third floor has been searched. He'd not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."

"What about the Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"

"All searched…"

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Headmaster?"

"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next." There was a pause. Even lacking all context for this conversation, Hermione could feel the tension.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, before-ah-the start of term?"

"I do, Severus."

"It seems-almost impossible-that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed-"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it." Hermione had never heard the Headmaster speak with such finality. "I must go down to the dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" Percy Weasley. Hermione jumped slightly; she hadn't realized he was there.

"Oh, yes," murmured Dumbledore. "But I'm afraid no dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am headmaster." There were several beats of very tense silence, then three sets of retreating footsteps, each at different speeds and in different directions. Hermione counted to thirty, then raised her head slightly. Percy and both professors were gone, and Ron continued to sleep soundly. On her other side, Harry hadn't stirred. Perhaps she'd been wrong after all; his eyes certainly seemed to be closed.

I did express my concerns when you appointed…

Well, there could only be one end to that sentence. Was there really a reason to suspect Lupin had helped Black enter the castle, or was Snape simply exercising the special vindictiveness with which he treated each new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? She sighed slightly. Probably the latter, but there wasn't really a way to tell, was there?

She looked up at the enchanted ceiling-the stars were truly spectacular tonight-and as her eyes traveled downward and over the fireplace, she stopped cold. Draco lay with his arms crossed behind his head, likewise gazing up at the starry ceiling.

Can I kiss you?

She could feel the imprint of his hand on her cheek, sliding gently back into her hair as vividly as if it were really him and not her imagination. In her wildest dreams she'd never imagined his hands could be so soft. God, what must his lips feel like?

She'd know the answer to that question, she thought resentfully, if not for-

Draco turned his head slightly as if he'd sensed her gaze. Their eyes met, and he gave her a hint of a smile as if to say all right? She returned it, and spared a glance around the room. Harry and Ron remained very much asleep. Percy was nowhere to be seen, and nor were any of the prefects. Heart hammering in her eardrums, hardly daring to breathe, she slipped gingerly out of her sleeping bag.

Beside him were Theo and Ginny-she'd wondered where Ginny had got off to-both unmistakably asleep and lying close together as if they'd been touching when they drifted off. Draco looked up at her, a slightly misty expression in his eyes as though unsure whether she was real or not. He was beautiful.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but if she didn't kiss him then, she couldn't be sure she'd find the nerve again.

She did bite his lip.

"Sorry," she breathed, scarcely taking her lips off his.

How could he accept an apology for something that filled him with fireworks and molten lava?

His skin was cool, but it warmed at once beneath her touch. His lips were softer than air. She felt full and empty at the same time, as though he were taking some fundamental part of her and giving her a hidden, treasured part of himself. She didn't notice her teeth slip until it was too late.

"Sorry." He turned his gaze ever so slightly upward to meet hers, and when she looked into his eyes, what she saw wasn't pain. Even in the semi-darkness, she could see the pink in his cheeks. It stirred something deep within her and she kissed him again, a bit harder this time, until something stopped her cold. She'd hurt him-very slightly, but hurt him nonetheless-and had he...enjoyed it?

She tore away from him, suddenly acutely aware of the hundreds of pairs of eyes around them, closed but with the potential to open at any moment.

"Don't tell anyone," she hissed. She didn't wait to see the look on his face before she turned and shot back across the Hall.

Nothing in his life thus far had prepared him for this feeling, as though everything inside him had been about to shatter and then abruptly changed its mind. His throat felt filled with broken glass, his lungs felt like punctured paper umbrellas, letting air through in all the wrong places and useless for their proper function. He wanted to grab her, stop her, ask her what she meant, beg her not to leave, something, but his body refused to cooperate and he remained paralyzed as she slipped further and further away until she disappeared, and then he was cold.

Don't tell anyone.

How could three little words hurt so much?

He turned his head slightly, and froze. Ginny was staring directly at him. She'd seen everything.

Questions, threats, and everything in between overwhelmed his mind all at once, nothing seeming adequate for the moment. Was there anything adequate for a moment like this?

As the silence stretched between them, a closer look at Ginny's face gave Draco pause, then brought him back down to earth. She was looking in his direction, but she wasn't staring at him. In fact, she hardly seemed to see him at all, and with a jolt, he realized she'd been crying. He swallowed the raw lump in his throat with difficulty.

"All right?" he whispered. She stared at him for a moment, then stifled a sob and hid her face in her hands. Without pausing to consider what he was doing, he laid a hand, as gently as he could, on her shoulder. After a bit she turned her face halfway toward him, as though it pained her to meet his eyes.

"I'm fine," she breathed. "I-I mean, I-" she broke off and bit her lip. Sensing the stiffness in her shoulders, he withdrew his hand.

"Sorry," he said softly. He took a steadying breath. "Er-you don't have to tell me, but...well, if you want…" he trailed off, hating how thin and uncertain his voice sounded. Ginny glanced down at the floor, then back up at him.

"Why didn't you answer anyone's letters all summer?" she asked. Her voice shook slightly, but her words sounded clear. He felt as if he'd been smacked around the head with a rock.

"What?"

"You heard." Yes, he had, but now his hands were shaking so badly he couldn't move them and his heart was hammering painfully in his throat.

"I, er…" Did the words exist to explain? "After we got out of the Chamber, I felt...different. I-everyone was so-" he paused, and took a deep breath. "If I told anyone how I felt, I was afraid they'd think…"

"That you weren't happy it was over," Ginny finished, so quietly he had to strain to catch it. "That it was you." Draco nodded slightly.

"Yeah." Ginny was quiet for a long time, staring up into the ceiling.

"I am happy it's over," she said finally. "But...it was me." Draco's heart stopped. For fuck's sake, he'd been the one to figure it out. Had he really forgotten what Ginny must have gone through? No, he realized with a horrible jolt. He hadn't forgotten. He'd never considered it to begin with.

"Ginny, I-" there weren't words in the English language that would do.

"Don't feel bad, you're not the only one," she told him. "Mum and Dad fussed for a few days, wouldn't let me out of bed and all that, as if…" she shook her head. "But then Fred and George tried to start a band with the gnomes in the garden, and Percy was made Head Boy, and oh, Harry and Ron were such heroes, and everyone sort of...well, I can't blame them, really. It was over." Draco studied her for a few moments. He felt sick with himself for forgetting about her after she'd been so kind to him in the Chamber, but something else was dawning on him as well. He envied the Weasleys nothing at all, but it did seem nice, didn't it-a family who talked to one another, who did things together, who loved and supported one another. Was a close family, after all, not all he'd cracked it up to be?

"No one...asked? How you were, I mean?"

"Theo did." Theo didn't stir as her eyes flitted over him, and she gave a faint, vaguely ironic smile. "I told him everything was fine, and made fun of the English tourists in Egypt." She looked back up at Draco. "I wanted to write to you," she said slowly. "But I just…"

Draco nodded. He knew. Christ, he knew.

"Couldn't."

"Yeah." They looked at each other for a few moments, and then, very slowly, Draco held out his hand. She hesitated for a bit, then took it.

When the morning sun pierced the massive windows of the Great Hall, compounded by the light from the enchanted ceiling, there was a collective groan of hundreds of simultaneous fitful nights. No one spoke much as they stood and made their way out into the Entrance Hall, but as Ginny started to climb the stairs leading to the second floor, she paused and turned slightly. The barest ghost of a smile flitted across her face, so quick and so slight that anyone would have missed it. Anyone, that was, but Draco.