When Hermione rushed out of Dumbledore's office, she saw Draco leaning against the wall in front. His head snapped up upon seeing her, but then he turned away again. His fists were clenched, his robes were dishevelled along with his usually-immaculate hair, and he was breathing heavily.
Hermione didn't know whether to be thankful or worried that he hadn't charged upon Dumbledore.
"If you're going to ask me why I didn't do it, you can forget about it."
"I'm not going to ask," she said sharply. "You're clearly not Dumbledore's match at this point in time."
She was rubbing salt into his wounds, and he snarled a little.
"I suppose you're still here so that we can figure out how to get that memory of Horcruxes," Hermione said, unfolding the crumpled piece of the Invisibility Cloak from her hand. "Whatever they are," she added.
In Draco's mind, he was wondering if asking Severus Snape to help him ask Horace Slughorn would be a good idea. But then that meant having to tell Snape everything, and actually the less Snape knew, the better. He was still straddled in a very difficult and dangerous position between the two sides, and Draco, for all his earlier hostility to his professor, had a high regard for him and thought it best to leave him out of too much suspicion.
Hermione then whipped the Cloak around them again, and they sat down against the wall along the empty corridor. Draco's look of fury hadn't left his face.
"As a matter of fact," Hermione continued. "Slughorn's been inviting people to join his Slug Club."
"His what?" Draco's face contorted into a look of disgust.
"Actually I haven't told you this, since it appeared unrelated," said Hermione, shrugging. "Slughorn's been persuaded out of retirement byboth Professor Dumbledore and Harry."
"What's Potter got to do with that Slug?"
Hermione looked at him reprovingly. "All Dumbledore told Harry was that Slughorn was once a Potions professor at Hogwarts and had retired, but remains a very important person he wished to have in Hogwarts, and Harry said it was his sharp eyes that noticed something was wrong in the furniture at Slughorn's house and poked an armchair which Slughorn popped out of."
Draco wasn't bemused by this little scene, at which Hermione was trying to stifle a grin. "And so why does he have to send us on this mission instead of dear little Potter?"
"I would presume he initially did want Harry to do this," replied Hermione, immediately frowning. "But it seems that this Horcrux-whatever-thing that Slughorn knows about is related to what you are looking for."
Draco's eyes lit up. "O-kay... then what's this thing about a Slug Club?"
"So anyway," Hermione continued with her narration, blatantly avoiding answering his question directly. "Slughorn was thrilled to know that he could teach the famous Harry Potter." Draco rolled his eyes. "And Dumbledore apparently offered better pay and better staff welfare, so he agreed to come out of his retirement for a few more years. When he was on the train platform at King's Cross, he's been talking non-stop to Harry, Ron and I about some club that he wishes to form, so we nicknamed it the Slug Club." Hermione screwed up her nose in disgust. "It's some elitist thing – like a party to get to know one another, but it's all the people with fame and all. So Ron and I are tagged along with Harry because we're the bunch of 'adventurous and clever' friends of The Famous Harry Potter."
There was no sound of resentment in her voice; she had stated it matter-of-factly. But the resentful one was Draco Malfoy. Weren't the Malfoys 'famous' enough? How dare Slughorn exclude Draco Malfoy from the list of elites in Hogwarts? Besides, Slughorn was from Slytherin House!
"And if you're wondering why you're not on the list, it's probably because you're a Death Eater." Hermione said candidly.
Damn, she had a way of reading his mind so uncannily.
"So there's that rich and snobbish fellow Cormac McLaggen from seventh year whose been tussling with Ron for Keeper position lately, and there's Susan Bones from Hufflepuff because her aunt's with the Ministry," said Hermione. "He even went up to Luna to ask her once he overheard us saying that her dad's with the Quibbler. But he completely ignored Neville who was with her, and later just brushed past the other Gryffindor girls."
"You clearly haven't taken a liking to him." Draco's mouth twitched upwards. "So have you been to one of these divine Slug parties?"
"Not yet." Hermione pondered for a moment. "In fact, it totally slipped my mind – it's tomorrow night!"
Draco sat up straight; the Cloak nearly shifted off them, but Hermione grabbed it back again. "Tomorrow night?" Slughorn was perpetually elusive; the only times Draco ever saw him were in class and at mealtimes – there were times when he was missing as well, but nobody saw it to their duty to fetch him, and he didn't seem to complain. In fact, he seemed quite happy and bloated and it was as if he was on a holiday coming back to Hogwarts rather than working. The best time to catch Slughorn for a memory would have to be this Party. But how could they do it such that he would lend them the memory willingly?
"I'll think of something," said Hermione, quickly. Then she bit her lip, before she looked up at Draco. He noticed that her eyes were shining, just like they did when she told him she had a plan. So he cocked his eyebrow at her, waiting for her to continue.
"Meet me at the side corridor near where we patrol, tomorrow just before eight. There's no patrol tomorrow, remember? Thanks to Slughorn's party." She was having some trouble controlling her breathing. "I'll pass you the Cloak again, and you can enter Slughorn's party with it."
Draco was about to pass some snide comment about how it was unbecoming of a Malfoy to have to attend an elite party by sneaking in, when he realised something and scowled. "Can't trust me enough to let me keep the Cloak, can you?"
"Yes, I don't trust you to keep it overnight," snapped Hermione, surprising him with her vehemence. "But I trust that you put it to good use at Slughorn's party and not do something stupid with it. It should come back in one piece, the same Cloak, into my hands after the party ends."
"You're queer," Draco found himself blurting it out, then felt rather annoyed at himself for saying that. Hermione merely shrugged and started to stand up, but she wobbled a bit, and almost fell onto Draco before his arms shot out and held her arms.
Her face was just inches away from him, and he could smell that familiar scent again. But it was those eyes that he was staring at that while startled, seemed to convey a sense of warmth and familiarity that he hadn't really experienced before. Quite uncomfortable, he immediately jumped up and balanced her, shaking his hands off her while maintaining an expression of contempt. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw her look a little disappointed, before she scowled and straightened down her robes.
"Now can we go back to sleep? I have Transfiguration early in the morning and I have no wish to be late!"
Her commanding voice almost made Draco snigger, but he thought better of it, and held his arm out in a mock gesture. As Hermione walked, he found himself supporting the Cloak, since he was taller than her. They crept round the corner to the Slytherin dungeons, before he slipped out and started to walk down the staircase without casting her a glance.
"...Draco?"
His head snapped up, and he glared at nothing in particular. "Can you stop calling me that?" He hissed. He certainly wasn't used to any non-Slytherin referring to him by his first name. It felt almost – intimate.
"Why not?" Hermione cocked her head to one side as her head popped out of the Cloak. "I find it an address of civility. Unless you're so arrogant that you actually find me calling you that demeaning. I thought somebody actually mentioned my first name just now anyway. Anyway – goodnight."
He gave her a scathing look, before he vanished downstairs.
Hermione stared after him for a moment. Then she put the Cloak over her head and made her way hastily back to the Gryffindor common-room. The moment morning arrived, she'd have plenty to do for the day.
-.-.-.-.-.-
The next morning was amazingly lucky for Hermione, considering she hadn't downed anything like a bottle of Felix Felicis; there were no questions from Harry as to whether or not the password to Dumbledore's office had been utilised or whether Draco had come to tell her about what he needed the password for. She had to thank her lucky stars that both Harry and Ron had repeated what they did on the first lesson in their first year – by coming to Transfiguration class late. Professor McGonagall was highly displeased by their tardiness.
"I suppose as sixth-year students, you should be more than disciplined enough to realise how important coming to lessons on time are," said Professor McGonagall thinly. It wasn't that she was being difficult to them; how often had Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley saved Hogwarts from dangerous situations? But she couldn't let the two of them have their own way just because they did noble things. Fairness was one of those things that was dissipating out of the wizarding world with the impending war; it was the least she could do to preserve some form of it.
Yes, war, Professor McGonagall thought with a heavy heart. It is probably coming.
Harry and Ron had gone extremely scarlet in the face, and for the rest of the lesson, did not raise their heads from the tables at all. As they had come late, they had been banished to the last few tables, away from Hermione. As soon as the bell rang for the next class, Hermione had dashed off to Ancient Runes class whilst the others had a free period. Again, thankfully, she was left to herself since classes were with the Ravenclaws. After which, there was Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins, whereby Snape had set a surprise test upon arrival at the classroom, so nobody could talk, and Hermione didn't even dare to cast a glance over to the Slytherin side. By the time they were done and had shuffled out of the classroom, Harry had grabbed her elbow and dragged her to one side before she could even spot Draco in the midst of the Slytherins.
Hermione was startled, but she obediently kept quiet on seeing Harry's pressed finger to his lips, and then he ushered her towards the end of the castle, where they, Ron and Ginny had always gathered to talk during their breaks.
"Where's Ron?" asked Hermione, once Harry had sat them both down.
"I told him I wanted to pay Hagrid a visit," said Harry, pushing up his spectacles. "So, how did last night go?"
Hermione – even though she was prepared for the question – found herself not being able to say anything when Harry had asked, and stared at him blankly. Before Harry could question her again, there was a pattering of footsteps behind them, and both of them turned to see Ginny running towards them with a big smile on her face.
"Aren't you two going to get ready for Slughorn's party later?"
"You're going, Ginny?" asked Hermione, surprised.
Ginny nodded, smiling brilliantly. "Harry asked me to go as his partner."
Hermione gasped, jumping up. "I've forgotten we've to bring a partner!"
Harry blinked, instantly forgetting what he and Hermione were sitting there for. "Oh. Yeah you can't ask Ron since he's invited too. He managed to get Lavender. You can – erm..." He looked at Ginny for help.
"Why don't you ask Neville?" offered Ginny.
In Hermione's mind, it would have been such a brilliant opportunity to get Draco into the party as well.
Except that he happened to be Draco Malfoy. Which just about ruined everything.
So Hermione made her way to the Gryffindor common-room feeling unexpectedly nervous. After all it was her first time having to ask someone to be her partner at a party; at the Yule Ball it had been Krum to ask her out. When Neville was asked, he smiled warmly and promptly agreed, only to be accosted by Corrinne Whitemayer who was standing nearby chatting with Parvati.
"What's this about a party?" demanded Corrinne, tilting her head over to look at Hermione with a curious expression.
Hermione felt really bad to have to tell Corrinne about a party she was not invited to, but she was saved from the awkwardness when Lavender came bounding down in her robes – but with noticeably permed curls trailing down her neck. Although Slughorn had stated that the dress code was to remain school robes (thankfully, considering Hermione didn't feel like dressing up), apparently Lavender had made up her own hair code.
"What on earth did you do to your hair?" squealed Parvati. "It's gorgeous!"
"I'm attending Slughorn's party with Ron," said Lavender, beaming, her curls bouncing as she came to a stop in front of all of them. Then she turned her gaze to a startled Hermione and a sheepish-looking Neville. "Oh, Hermione, are you asking Neville to go with you?"
Corrinne's face took on a frowning expression, but Hermione hurriedly told Neville to get ready, while she dashed back into her dormitory to neaten her frizzy hair. Once she was done looking at herself in the mirror, her hand instinctively shot out to the first drawer on her dressing-table. Taking a deep breath, she opened the drawer and took out the shimmery cloth with shaking fingers. She stared at it for a good while, before tucking it into the inner pocket of her robe, and then proceeded back to the common-room.
Harry, Ginny, Ron, Lavender and Neville were all waiting for her downstairs. Hermione muttered an apology for keeping them waiting and the six of them made their way towards the hall where Slughorn had booked for his party. Along the way, Hermione excused herself to the bathroom – Neville had offered to wait, but she insisted he wait at the doorway of the party. Harry threw her a suspicious glance, but she smiled and walked off briskly. When she came to the side corridor, she swung herself in hurriedly, and almost bumped into something – or someone.
"Watch where you're going!" hissed Draco.
Hermione quickly backed off, muttering an apology. She brought out the Cloak from her pocket and thrust it at Draco. "Don't you dare do anything funny with it, it comes back to my possession after the party!"
"Yes, Miss Granger," mocked Draco, giving her a look of exasperation. "In case you have forgotten, you haven't told me what the big plan is supposed to be."
"It's a party," said Hermione, folding her arms. "And Slughorn's offered Firewhisky."
"You people are underaged!" Draco shot her a smirk. "So the Slug's breaking a school rule?"
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "He's the head of Slytherin House."
"So what, you're planning on drowning him in it?" Draco offered, sarcastically. "You might conk out before he does!"
"I didn't say anything about drinking Firewhisky myself," retorted Hermione.
"I'll be interested to know what you're up to," shot back Draco, as he whipped the Invisibility Cloak over him. Hermione gave a huff before she turned and marched off towards the hall. It felt weird to know that he was trailing behind her, but at the same time, it gave her a sense of security.
"By the way..." Draco's voice floated to her ear, and she glared back at where she figured he was.
"Can you not talk?" she hissed.
"I was just going to ask who you were going..." He noted all the couples walking towards the party venue, and stopped short when Hermione did. Before he opened his mouth further, he realised she had stopped for Neville Longbottom to offer her his arm shyly.
Neville Longbottom? Granger picked Longbottom?
Feeling something erupt at the pit of his stomach, Draco clenched his teeth as Hermione completely immersed herself in small talk with Neville as they entered the hall. There were many people there despite Hermione saying it was a selective club, but since everyone was asked to bring partners, there was a doubling of attendance, and Slughorn himself was right in the middle of the attention, soaking up everything like a big, fat sponge.
Hermione had pulled Neville over to Slughorn to greet him out of courtesy, so Draco hung back in the corner of the hall to maintain a keen eye over the crowd. He wondered what Hermione was really planning, and conceded that if not for her, he wouldn't have been able to think of a way to get to Slughorn so quickly. Then again, judging by the crowd, it seemed a bit hard to get Slughorn on his own. One moment he was being all exuberant over Harry Potter and his friends, the other moment he was swept up by the haughty Cormac McLaggen and his tale of Quidditch antics. Draco tried not to chuckle seeing carrot-haired Weasley grow purple on hearing McLaggen's exploits, given that Weasley was now on the team but Slughorn was paying less attention to him.
Weasley's only there because of Potter, thought Draco, smirking. But then again – so was Hermione Granger. Slughorn was still Slytherin after all, and it was strange how he had allowed a Mudblood to attend such a party.
Draco figured if he thought about the attendance any longer, he'd explode with the resentment that Slughorn had not invited him.
His eyes trained onto Hermione as she introduced Slughorn to Neville, who was looking rather bumbling and awkward (as he always did), but Slughorn didn't seem very interested, instead lavishing praises onto Hermione and turning her tomato red in the face. Draco felt considerably bored by all these gestures. They meant nothing, nothing in the grand scheme of things, where he was just here to get something for that old fogey in the office so he'd grant them permission to use Fawkes. Permission! Draco scoffed at the thought. Like he was a first-year student all over again and needed permission. From the very man the Dark Lord wanted him to kill.
Thinking about that made Draco pale.
This is insane, I can't think about anything! He gritted his teeth. To his amazement, he noted that Hermione had ushered Slughorn to one corner where the Firewhisky was being served in a limited number of jugs, while the Butterbeer was going in free flow thanks to a charmed tap. Longbottom was told to go talk to the Loony Lovegood, who seemed rather serene and unaware that her date, a rather flustered-looking Ernie MacMillan, had abandoned her company for the more sane Ravenclaws at the party.
As Hermione talked to Slughorn, Draco was getting increasingly impatient. He couldn't hear what they were saying, and he was itching to find out why Slughorn's happy mask was being peeled apart slowly; first, he was smiling in a very patronising manner, then his eyes seemed to take on a different shine, and then he was biting his lips, and then he looked at Hermione in an incredulous manner. It was all and well that the students were at the Slug Club just to enjoy themselves at the party, and none of them really took notice of Slughorn's absence in the middle of the floor. Draco's gaze switched to Potter and Weasley – with Potter and his girlfriend laughing together near the chocolate fountain, and Weasley having a hard time trying not to look bored by Lavender Brown's incessant chatting. His eyes flitted back to Hermione, and saw that her eyes were darting around furtively to see if anyone was watching her. Quickly, he took out his wand and aimed at Hermione and Slughorn.
Hermione's mouth curved into the familiar 'O' shape as the two of them slowly blended into the background once the charm took effect.
Okay, now that he did this, it was probably even harder to keep track of what Hermione was doing to Slughorn.
Or even – what Slughorn might do to her.
His eyes flew wide open at the thought. Snarling to himself, he jumped out from the corner and tried to manoeuvre his way towards the other corner of the room. With the mass of bodies all around, it was quite hard to move without touching anybody, and he cursed inwardly when he heard someone squeal, "Who's that?", and was thankful when said girl got whisked off into a dance before she could complain further. When he finally reached the other end of the room, he noticed that the Firewhisky glasses that belonged to Hermione and Slughorn were now empty.
Draco stared. The chairs they had been sitting on were now pushed in; they were clearly no longer here.
Feeling a surge of panic rise up within him, Draco spun around to scan the crowd. Potter and the Weaselette were now dancing in bliss with the music being played in the background, whilst Weasley appeared to have abandoned his date and was spotted lurking in the shadows near where Longbottom and Lovegood were. There was no sign of Hermione Granger.
Frustrated, he tried to make his way through the crowd to the centre with his wand pointing out of his robes, uttering the counter-spell to the Disillusionment Charm, hoping that somehow he could unveil the two of them. All logic was falling apart; all he knew was that he needed to find her.
Unfortunately, his exposed wand was extended further than he intended to, and it poked somebody just as that particular somebody had moved backwards.
"Ouch!"
This time Draco was not so lucky; the offended somebody was not whisked away. Instead he found himself face-to-face with Harry Potter himself, who was staring confounded at an empty space. Before Draco could move an inch, the next thing he knew, the Invisibility Cloak had been whipped off him. Gasping, Draco reached out for it, but Harry's reflexes were equally good, and perhaps faster in this instance.
Draco looked up at a horrified Harry, accompanied by a bewildered Ginny Weasley. Then he straightened himself up, whilst Harry had now turned his attention to the Cloak that he had snatched off Draco, and stared at it like he couldn't believe it was in his eyes.
"This is my Cloak!" were Harry's first words.
"What are you doing here?" demanded Ginny, in a low voice, glaring at Draco. "You're not on the invitation list!"
Suddenly, even though Ginny had not been very loud, people started to notice the uninvited guest in their midst. His silvery-blond hair was unmistakeable.
Draco was completely unnerved by the revelation of his presence, but he tried to keep his cool and managed a smirk at Harry and Ginny. "I invited myself; it's such a splendid party not to be missed, isn't it? I mean, if the measly poor Weasleys can get their ways in here, why shouldn't a Malfoy be part of the..."
He was stopped halfway by the oncoming bullet of a Ron Weasley, who had surged forward to grab a handful of his robes, startling Draco, and drawing gasps from the crowd.
"I dare you to repeat that again, ferret!" seethed Ron, boiling mad.
Draco was more than happy to do so, if not for the fact that his gaze had landed upon a bushy-haired figure at the doorway. He stared.
Hermione Granger.
She turned around and took a quick turn out of his sight. Immediately, Draco twisted himself out of Ron's grip and started after her. Ron reached out and grabbed him again, yelling, "You bloody Death –", but Harry jumped in and pushed the two of them apart. Ron gaped at his best friend as Draco darted out of the way, through the crowd who had parted to let him go like the Red Sea. As soon as Draco had disappeared, Ron turned on Harry.
"What'd you let him go for!" demanded Ron, angrily. "He just gatecrashed and insulted..."
"He wasn't here just to gatecrash for fun." Harry stared at the Invisibility Cloak that he quickly tucked into his robes. "He was here for something."
"That's your Cloak, Harry!" hissed Ginny, and Ron's eyes widened. "He used your..."
"If neither of you took it for him, then Hermione must have!" Harry was agitated, and swung around. "Where's Professor Slughorn?"
Everybody turned around to scour for him, but nobody spotted him. Harry gave a frustrated grunt as he turned and dragged Ron and Ginny out of the hall. They looked down the hallways, but Draco Malfoy was now completely out of sight.
"Hermione?" Ron's voice was incredulous. "What the hell did she take it for?"
Harry felt that it wasn't time to disclose what Hermione had told him, so he merely shrugged and sagged.
Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, but he refused to look at her.
"Let's go look for Hermione then!" cried Ron, impatiently. "What are we still doing here?"
Harry pursed up his lips. "No, wait."
He thought back to what Hermione had told him. What she had asked from him. His eyes lit up.
"Let's just get to Dumbledore's office. I have a feeling we'll get answers there!"
As Harry pulled them both along, Ron was completely bewildered. "Dumbledore's office?"
"Let's just go," said Ginny, firmly, looking at Harry as they quickened their pace.
-.-.-.-.-.-
"Mimbulus mimbletonia!"
The stone gargoyle began to shift.
"Granger!"
Hermione didn't flinch, and she began to make her way up to Dumbledore's office, a vial clutched tightly in her hand.
"Wait, wait!" Draco Malfoy's panting could now be heard as he caught up with her at the foot of the staircase. "What the hell did you..." and then he trailed off upon seeing the vial in her hands. "You got it? Slughorn's memory is in there?"
"I'm not as pathetic as you think I am," muttered Hermione, and turned to continue her ascend.
"Look!" Draco found himself quite flustered. "You – you okay?"
Hermione looked at him in surprise. "Should I not be?"
It was now Draco's turn to feel rather hot. "Erm, well..."
"Don't you want to go find Wentervale?"
That was enough to galvanise Draco to pick himself up and advance towards Dumbledore's office. He just hoped she wouldn't notice that the Invisibility Cloak was no longer with him.
"That was quick, the both of you."
Dumbledore turned around to greet both of them with that infuriating smile of his, or at least, it felt so to Draco. Hermione proudly handed over the vial, which Dumbledore uncorked and tipped over to a Pensieve by the side. "We shouldn't waste anymore time then."
"Professor..." Hermione began, but Dumbledore waved her words away.
"Come over." He pointed to the Pensieve. "You don't have to put your head inside, you can just watch from here, it'll be enough."
Hermione and Draco, overcome by curiosity, came to lean over the Pensieve. Within the whirling waters, images began to unfold.
"Professor, I want to know something." "Well, go on, boy!" Slughorn's booming voice emerged. The eyes of Slughorn were now set on a scrawny-looking boy with a pale face and tired eyes. But within those eyes, there was fire. "I want to know about Horcruxes." Slughorn must have sat up suddenly, for the image jerked a bit. "It's Dark Magic, my boy," whispered Slughorn, suddenly clearly frightened. "No one should know about it!" "I've read about it in the library. I just want to understand more, nothing more than that, sir." Slughorn cleared his throat, clearly hesitant to part with this information. "It's Dark Magic that involves splitting your soul into fragments – which can be encased in objects, people, animals... but it can only be achieved if someone commits a violent act... sometimes testing the boundaries of morality..." "Like murder?" The boy's voice held no emotion. Slughorn gulped.
Suddenly the waters began to swirl once again, and the images disappeared.
Hermione and Draco stared at the Pensieve, unable to utter a word.
"Was that –" Draco found himself choking.
"Yes," said Dumbledore, grimly, turning away from the Pensieve. "That was Tom Riddle when he was still at Hogwarts. Also known as Lord Voldemort."
Draco flinched.
"Previously, Horace only gave me a modified memory. He completely eliminated that part. I'm curious how you managed to coax this out of him, Miss Granger." Dumbledore winked at her, causing her to blush furiously. Then he looked serious. "This is very Dark Magic, and Horace must have felt guilty for revealing this to Tom; otherwise, I cannot see how the boy was able to really understand the true meaning of a Horcrux just by reading the book – that I have now banned from the library, of course."
"Is this what the seven cuts across him is supposed to mean?" Hermione turned towards Draco, light dawning upon her. "Voldemort cut his soul into seven fragments – in other words, seven Horcruxes!"
Dumbledore's eyebrows furrowed together. "I have a theory that yes, You-Know-Who has created several Horcruxes because of his desire for immortality, which has resulted in the unstable state he has become now, that ghostly face and withering presence. However, I have had no idea how many he has created exactly."
Hermione kept quiet. Draco spoke up instead.
"That is only our theory," he countered, sharply.
Dumbledore nodded understandingly. "It proves useful, in my opinion. It seems to me that both of you are quite sure. I am quite confident now that what the Inferi was attempting to protect, and what the man I saw was trying to retrieve – would most probably be one of the Horcruxes."
A labryinth of secrets, a ring of truth. Those must be the other two Horcruxes Voldemort created.
But first of all, they had to tackle the first Horcrux hint presented to them in the form of Fawkes.
"You've to keep to your promise!" Draco was unable to hold in his anticipation.
"Yes, I will," said Professor Dumbledore, smiling, and he held out his arm. Fawkes came sailing through the air to land gracefully on his arm, the plume of the beautiful phoenix dazzling both students' eyes. "Now place both of your hands on my arm, will you?"
Hermione immediately reached out, her gaze turning to Draco, who looked long and hard at Dumbledore. Then his hand reached out tentatively to touch Dumbledore; he was trying really hard against pulling back and whipping out his wand to point at the Headmaster... and wishing that there was some kind of poison in his veins that could pump towards Dumbledore's arm... yet, without him, he might never get the chance to see Wentervale and find out from him the circumstances of Lucius Malfoy's death... and the secrets of the Dark Lord...
"One..." Dumbledore looked at both of them, his eyes twinkling. "Two..."
"Three."
-.-.-.-.-.-
"I don't understand why the password doesn't work!" exploded Harry, thumping his fists onto the stone gargoyle, only to retreat in agony.
Ginny rushed forward to rub his hands, her expression pained. "Harry, don't do this! How do you know..."
"She's in there, with Draco Malfoy!" Harry couldn't hold it in any longer. Ron and Ginny stared at him, completely flabbergasted.
"What..." Ron began, only to notice the approaching figure of Professor McGonagall, who was hurried in her footsteps.
"Professor McGonagall!" Harry felt relief upon seeing her. "Could you tell me..."
"I'm afraid not, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall stiffly, as she came to a halt in front of them. "The Headmaster has just changed his office password, and I am not aware of the new password he has put into place."
Harry stared at her in disbelief. "If you're not aware, how did you know?" And as an afterthought, added, "Professor?"
Professor McGonagall didn't look pleased to be shot this question. "I was informed that Professor Dumbledore needed to leave the castle for a while, and thus, I am to be in charge during this short period of time. But he wished to retain privacy of his office, so as such, this is all I can say."
Before Harry could argue, she raised up her hand. "I came to inform the three of you that Miss Hermione Granger is accompanying the Headmaster on a trip he has to make, for reasons that I am not aware of either, except that her safety will not be compromised."
Ron gaped, while Harry immediately asked, "Is Malfoy with them?"
Professor McGonagall pursed up her lips. "That was all I was told to tell the three of you, so I would like to point out that it is nearing bedtime. The party Professor Slughorn has organised," she mentioned it with a hint of distaste, "has exceeded the time limit it was allocated, and I'm afraid that I must send all of you back to your common-rooms."
With that, she flicked her robes behind her and turned back towards where she came from.
"Hermione's with Dumbledore, on something without us!" Ron gasped, and then he rounded upon Harry. "You knew she was up to something with him, didn't you? And what's this with Malfoy possibly being with them?"
"Let's get back to the common-room," said Ginny, hurriedly, as she stared at Harry's peaked face.
"I demand an explanation," said Ron, in a low, dangerous voice.
"Common-room," said Harry, hardly breathing, as Ginny took his arm and led the both of them back to the Gryffindor common-room. There was a lot of explanation to be done. Meanwhile, in his thumping heart, he could only pray hard that he hadn't sent Hermione into some really sticky situation.