The owl the colour of midnight stood out against the flock of brown and gray barn owls. Draco knew instantly from the owl's unusual colouring that his father had written him. It was strange, though, that Lucius Malfoy had used his personal owl rather than Draco's.
The owl swooped over the Slytherin table and landed gracefully beside Draco's plate. He untied the letter from its talons and the black owl flew in a wide circle over the Great Hall and exited. He broke the Malfoy seal.
"What does it say?" Pansy asked, peering over Draco's shoulder at his letter.
"Sod off," Draco snapped at her. "I don't read your post."
With a mixture of hurt and embarrassment on her face, Pansy went back to her food and avoided looking at the blonde boy next to her.
Unfolding the parchment, Draco began to read his father's cramped, slanted scrawl.
Draco,
The time has come.
Draco's face went white. He knew exactly what the simple statement meant. He slowly folded the paper back up and placed it beside his plate, eerily silent.
"Bad news?" Pansy asked meekly, chancing a glance at her boyfriend.
"Worse than that," Draco replied, and for once his voice held hardly any malice.
.
"You still waste your money on the Daily Prophet?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes as Hermione paid the small brown and white owl. "You know about all the junk they've written about Harry and my dad."
"Yes," Hermione replied firmly. "I've told you before, Ron: if they're going to write stuff about you, you should at least know what they're saying. Besides, I want to keep updated now that Voldemort is back."
She unfolded the paper with one hand as she took a drink of pumpkin juice, completely missing Ron's wince at the wizard's name.
"Someone robbed Gringotts," Hermione told Harry and Ron as she scanned the headlines.
"Who?" Harry asked.
"Hold on...." Hermione said with a frown, turning to the second page. "Here, listen to this:
Officials are baffled as to how the robber managed to escape. Gringotts goblins insist that the security wasn't changed but hotly deny that it was a goblin that broke into vault number seventy-three, the vault of Alice Longbottom, currently residing in St. Mungo's Hospital. Ms Longbottom is unable to tell Ministry workers what was in the vault at the time.
Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, demands that the goblins of Gringotts crank up security, though he has no suggestions as to how to go about doing this.
This part is unimportant," Hermione said, pausing her reading. "It just goes on to talk about Fudge."
Ron whistled between his teeth. "It must've been a goblin. Maybe not a Gringotts goblin, but definitely a goblin."
"Gringotts was broken into once before." Hermione said. "Way back in first year."
"That's right!" Harry exclaimed. "Just think what would have happened if Hagrid hadn't emptied the vault before Voldemort got there...."
"Let's not," Hermione said with a small smile. Then she became suddenly serious "Everyone who's tried to rob Gringotts has been caught... except for Voldemort, that is."
Ron stared at his friend "So you think that You-Know-Who broke into Gringotts again?"
Hermione turned her dark gaze from Harry to Ron. "That's exactly what I think."
.
Harry, Hermione and Ron walked together through Hogsmeade on the first Hogsmeade visit of the year.
"You're sure that he knows it's today?" Hermione asked.
"He's not stupid," Harry said, "and I didn't give him the wrong date."
"He's probably just late," Ron reasoned. "Or making sure the coast is clear."
"Do you think he'd like a butterbeer?" Harry asked as they passed The Three Broomsticks.
"Probably. I don't know when Siri -- Snuffles would have last managed to get one," Ron said, correcting himself hastily. "Do you want to get some quickly?"
Harry nodded and the trio made their way into the shop.
"There he is," Ron muttered to Harry as they stood in line with Hermione to purchase the drinks.
Harry turned to look where Ron was and saw a large, shaggy dog sitting on the street and looking through The Three Broomsticks window. Harry grinned and, the four drinks in hand, walked out to his godfather.
"Hi, Sirius," Harry said in a low voice as he pet the dog's head. "We brought you a butterbeer." He took a bottle from Ron without thinking and held it out towards the former Azkaban prisoner.
"Dogs don't drink butterbeer, Potter," said a cold voice.
Harry didn't look up. "Sod off, Malfoy."
"Unless, of course," Draco carried on as though Harry hadn't spoken, "that black dog isn't really a dog."
Harry blanched and stood, standing to face Draco, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle.
"Of course it's a dog," Hermione said from behind Harry. "What else would it be?"
Draco only smirked.
"I don't see why it's your business what I feed my dog anyway, Malfoy," Harry pointed out.
"I somehow doubt that it is your dog, Potter," Pansy said dryly. "I've heard how those Muggles treat you -- why would they get you a dog? And how would it get to Hogsmeade? And I don't think it's a stray, because it would be too difficult to take care of seeing as you're still in school and all."
"It's my dog," Ron said quickly, "but he's very attached to Harry."
"You mean it's your long-lost brother," Draco corrected him nonchalantly and Crabbe and Goyle snickered.
The colour rose in Ron's face and he rolled up his sleeves. Hermione and Harry each grabbed an arm and held him back.
"Even I can see that this whole argument is ludicrous," a woman said, and each turned to look at the speaker.
Hermione recognized her, but not by name. She had a thick golden braid that fell over her shoulder and her eyes were a pale blue. Her eyebrows were perfectly, if not naturally, sculpted, her ruby lips full. She stood with her arms folded over her chest but did not hide the Slytherin crest on her breast.
Pansy sneered at her. "Go away, Blaise. Why are you concerning yourself with our business?"
"Just because I comment doesn't mean I am concerned," the girl named Blaise said coolly. "I couldn't care less what you do." She paused. "No, that isn't entirely true. There are some things Draco Malfoy may do that concern me, and that is why I must speak with him."
All heads turned again, this time to look at Draco. A strange half-amused light shone in his gray eyes.
"You're a bigger git than I originally took you for if you think that I'll take the time to speak with you," he said flippantly.
Hermione instantly knew that this girl was unpopular, even for a Slytherin, and she found herself wondering why.
"It would do you well to hold your tongue, Malfoy, come with me and listen," Blaise said, and her tone held no room for defiance. "The time has come, after all."
.
"I wonder why that Blaise girl wanted to talk to Malfoy," Hermione said as she leaned against the cave wall.
"If we're lucky," Ron remarked ruefully, "she'll rip his insides out and force him to eat it."
"Which, by the way, is quite possible," Sirius said, frowning into his butterbeer.
"What?" Harry asked with a laugh.
Sirius looked suddenly shrewd. "Draco Malfoy is sixteen now, is he not?" he asked slowly.
"Yes," Harry said, "same age as us."
Sirius frowned again. "I guess it's no surprise, then. That Blaise Zabini wanted to talk to him, I mean."
Harry was bewildered and he exchanged surprised glances with Ron across the cave. "What?"
"I learned a lot about Death Eaters from being an Auror," Sirius said. "No one was allowed to join unless they were sixteen or older. Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater; I've no doubt that Draco Malfoy will soon be doing his Death Eater initiation."
"What does that have to do with Blaise Zabini?" Hermione asked.
"All the Zabinis are Death Eaters," Sirius said, rolling his eyes as though this were common knowledge. "She'll probably be doing her initiation too. Maybe she wanted to know if Draco Malfoy knew anything."
When the students assembled to make their way back to Hogwarts, Hermione glanced towards Draco, expecting his eyes to be shining with a rare excitement. But his gaze only appeared slightly confused. Otherwise Draco Malfoy's face was expressionless.
.
"Did you get it?" Voldemort asked sharply.
The man nodded, lowering his head in a bow. "I did, my Lord." And he handed over a piece of parchment.