'Speaking the Devil'
By She-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Psycho!
Chapter3: Prologue to 'The Trap' II & III
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet (1960), Act 2, spoken by Hamlet
Ginny, or at least it's her at first, or someone who resembles her. And older Ginny, in the kitchen, cooking.
I think I'm married to her.
I go to the door. There's a young man at the door. Familiar and young.
He goes inside as a routine, walking in a briskly fashion. He looks confident by that. Like he was a friend. He dresses formal way- or at least there's something in his images that makes me think we know from work. But then he flops to my sofa. He spreads in it and his legs are up the table. I recognize him:
It's Draco Malfoy.
He looks slightly older, but not much. I think he says some disgusting things- critics to our house I guess- and laughs, or at least I think he laughs. He then brings something, levitate it though air to his hands- I think it was an ashtray. I don't know if he used his wand.
Ginny looks appalled – scared. A muggle Ginny, that's it. She's never seen magic before.
Malfoy looks like about to laugh again at the prospect: "Doesn't she know, Potter?"
I can tell I'm mad at him. Obviously this was not the way I wanted it to be. I'm trying to explain it to my wife:
"I'm a wizard."
She runs away scared. That's all I can register. She doesn't look back- I think, and disappears. I think I tried to follow her. I think it was too late. I focus back to the other one.
I take him from the neck-lace. The smirking Malfoy sneering at me. My mind full of questions that I'm not sure I spoke up at that time. 'Why - why did he do it?'
The smirking Malfoy changes his expression ever so slightly. His features changes like water- but there're his eyes- his eyes who still smirks. His voice is full of hate. Just before his wrath make tense his muscles. But also the look is almost resentful.
"How does it feels like, Voldemort?"
Harry woke up with a start. Hermione was glancing at him though a chair some meters away. Ron looked dumbfounded. The session had stopped; he was no longer hypnotized, he could tell. But Harry could not bring himself to talk.
Hermione spoke in an unsure manner; something not very alike her, "It's all in the tape – if you want to hear it."
But Harry didn't need to: he remembered everything about the dream this time.
Harry Potter is not thinking of pretty much anything all the time. Fourth months of the school term have flown by and it was like Harry was nowhere; it all had started at the start of the year after Harry had come back to the Dursley's. He just couldn't concentrate about reality and that was about to kick him hard.
The proof of that was the last Quidditch match; he didn't even see that coming. But he didn't panic either or felt anything after the tug; it was like he had gone to sleep rather peacefully and hadn't got a notion of what was happening until awaking in the Hospital Wing. It came as an easy shock to awake in there, from being flying up the air at the Quidditch pitch to lay half asleep in one of the Hospital Wing beds the following morning. Ron and Hermione told him the details; Harry had problems believing it but had no problem getting absolutely furious at the thought of Malfoy doing that to him. He wasn't eating it that Malfoy saved him; sure thing Malfoy didn't helped willingly. He had his bottom on the line; expect he could not risk it, so Harry didn't really see how his cowardly self had to do with a good deed to be rewarded. He should have been expelled, no less. Indeed it was strange all the same, that Malfoy helped someone though it was quite saving from himself to start with.
Harry was told to be sent a Stupefy and made fall from his broom to earth by Malfoy; that he could imagine.
After supper at the Great Hall, Harry forgot all about the incident and about Malfoy. He even got to forgot all about the recurrent dream he had been having since the start of the year and that just yesterday, by means of Hermione's help, he got to remember. It was infuriating, to feel so horrible in the mornings but not be able to remember the cause of it.
It was not until late that day at Potions that Harry got a reason to duel about Malfoy again.
He entered the classroom along with Hermione and Ron, who were bickering as usual, when feeling something strange; a pulling deep inside. Harry was brought back to reality when Ron and Hermione's discussion had rise a level in volume and was provoking him a headache.
"People, is the bickering that necessary?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, Hermione, do you think you can listen to what I'm about to say before jumping to conclusions about how wrong I am?" Ron demanded.
"Alright, Ron," said Hermione, "As I see you must have a very good reason to think Malfoy is planning something I beg you to go on."
"Thank you," said Ron missing, purposely or not, the hint of sarcasm on Hermione's speech. "I was just wondering what that was about..." Shrugging his shoulders and finishing rather lamely. Harry was clueless and didn't even remember being part of the conversation.
"What about?" Harry asked truly puzzled.
"Nothing, Harry," Hermione said rolling her eyes. "Ron is bitter because he cannot prove his theory that all the people in the Slytherin House are evil."
"Hermione, why don't you for a change hear me out?" Ron said angrily. "You know how is Malfoy, what's in there to trust?"
"True but what's in there to worry?" Hermione answered cunningly, Harry couldn't help a chuckle. "What I'm saying is that Malfoy isn't really a threat, at least not while we are at school and with a teacher near –"
"Right, because there's a teacher guarding the castle at every corner!" Ron said scathingly. "And it's not only Malfoy, it's everyone there; Crabbe, Goyle, Professor Snape –"
"I'm exactly what, Mr Weasley?"
Needless to say the conversation ended up there with 10 points taken from Gryffindor.
The potion from that class was as difficult as every. Harry wrote down and checked his notes no less than five time not to let Snape have a reason to take points from him, not that it was evitable. But more important he did not trust his poor state of mind and clumsiness those days. Just in cue Harry realized that he forgot his knife to chop some ingredients in his night stand; he cursed mentally and turned to Hermione and Ron to ask for theirs when he remembered that for the last few weeks he was carrying Sirius' knife with him in his pocket. He reached for it but it wasn't there. Harry tried his other pockets but didn't find it and glared into space, trying to remember, when he felt a feeble playful laugh from his left. In the Slytherin part of the room was Malfoy, smirking broadly and childishly, and then Harry understood why:
There, between Malfoy's thumb and middle fingers, was Sirius's knife, swinging mockingly like it was a toy trapeze. Before Harry could utter a world Snape ordered the class to start and Malfoy pocketed the knife – there was something with the way he acted that that seemed not to be related to Snape, but Harry put it aside.
Harry was beyond himself; if something could bring all the rage and hatred slept within him was this, he was not going to take it from Malfoy. Before he knew it Harry was standing on his spot –
"May I ask, Mr Potter, where you think you are heading to?" came an icy voice from the front row area. Harry immediately turned to Snape feeling Hermione tug on his shirt to make him sit down.
Harry was about to respond to that question, to tell that Malfoy has stolen from him and he wanted it back –
"Sit down, Mr Potter, and 5 more points from Gryffindor."
Harry stared at Malfoy once more, furious silence followed. But Malfoy was completely ignoring him which was making Harry angrier. Harry was still feeling Hermione's urgent tugging and sensing Snape as well as everybody's eyes on him. Harry keep staring.
"Yes, sir," Harry said sitting down slowly and without taking his eyes off Malfoy.
Harry was going crazy for the rest of the class. He wanted it over to get the knife back; he didn't care that he spilled an acid substance on his robes, or that the potion got smokier than it should and probably completely wrong, that Snape passes by just to let everyone know how useless Harry was or that he had taken points for such a disastrous job. Actually, as the class drew to an end the tension seemed to thicken the air between, with Harry waiting for his cue and Malfoy ignoring.
Finally the class was over and Harry put his things back in his bag violently and while watching intently to make sure Malfoy wouldn't run before Harry got him. As expected, Malfoy flew from there at the given chance, just when everyone else started leaving – though the commotion, Harry went after him not minding whoever was in the way.
As Harry pushed his way to the exit, for a moment Harry thought he had lost Malfoy before finding him outside heading to the dungeons.
"Malfoy," Harry called charging to him like a bull, Malfoy stood on his spot with his back to Harry. "Malfoy," Harry repeated, this time more dangerously.
Though slowly, Malfoy turned to face him.
"Give it back," said Harry loosing his temper. Malfoy gave no notice of having understood the message or of having the intention of doing so. Nor he responded any given minute; he just stood with his mouth sealed closed. Harry got ready to launch at Malfoy when recognizing Snape's voice, which came behind Harry, Snape just having stepped out of the classroom. Harry didn't turn or tear his eyes off Malfoy even with Snape demanding to know what was happening. Harry was feeling it, that any moment now, any word from that filthy mouth and he was jumping onto Malfoy and killing him. All the nerves and muscles on Harry tensed when Malfoy opened his mouth at last.
He didn't say anything. Malfoy backed out and blankly turned and walked away.
Harry released the breathing he didn't notice holding. All of the sudden the complete scene lighten up -- like getting wider -- and like part of him wanted himself in this place and knowing he didn't commit murder.
Harry avoided giving excuses or answers and just told to want to be alone. He stared, laying in his bed, up the ceiling of the six-year boys' room at night; he had problems deciding what to do next. While he pondered the matter Ron entered the boys' room heading for the trunk and looking for something.
Talking to Hermione? Harry considered this option giving that Hermione was one of his best friends and rather smart but there were drawbacks Harry knew so well. She would tell him to tell a teacher. This was Harry's problem now; he was getting Malfoy for this and without asking for the help of other people being the good boy. He didn't want Dumbledore knowing.
"Ron," Harry started, "Malfoy's got Sirius' knife."
"What?" Ron's head snapped to look at Harry.
"Before Potions; it might have fallen off my pocket and next Malfoy had it," Harry said this being serious.
"How do you know?" Ron asked frowning.
"I saw him with it in Potions; I'm pretty sure he used it to chop the Harpies' nails. I have to get it back."
"How?" Ron asked, still frowning, "what are you planning to do, telling a teacher?"
"No," Harry said immediately. "I don't want help from them; it wouldn't be fair to let Malfoy have a laugh with this so easily, I want him to get what he deserves."
Ron was hesitant and his eyes darted to the door before responding, "I- I don't know, mate. You could get in troubles, Malfoy is not worth it. Does Hermione know?"
Harry shook his head.
"Oh..." Ron said awkwardly. "I think you should tell somebody – Maybe Dumbledore –"
Ron fell quiet after that; Harry didn't talk to him either.
Harry went to bed that night feeling more frustrated than before; his talk with Ron hadn't come out how he expected. If truth being told Harry wasn't surprised by Ron's reaction; on the contrary Harry was mad at himself for just trying. Now Harry had two Hermione's to worry about, moreover Ron was probably turning him in to Hermione who would in change tell a teacher. Harry was not letting Malfoy get it that easy. Harry had to find a way of getting to Malfoy and stealing back the knife, and he must do it before Ron got to tell Hermione. Harry forced his brain think of a way to enter the Slytherin Commons. Somehow he felt like there was something familiar with the concept and then it hit him; it was in his second year, he and Ron had entered the dungeons disguised as Crabbe and Goyle to get Malfoy to confess he was the heir of Slytherin, and Harry remembered Hermione telling the same year that she was keeping some spare of the Polyjuice Potion just in case. So Harry would have to find a way of getting hold Hermione's things and getting that back from Hermione.
Harry stood and headed to the commons. Ron was there chatting with Neville and Dean while Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Harry saw Ginny talking to some fifth-year girls nearby the fireplace and went to her side, immediately the girls went quiet which Harry found uncomfortably strange.
"Hi, Harry? What's the matter?" Ginny asked in an easygoing manner.
"Ginny, can I talk to you? In private," Harry added eyeing Ginny's giggling friends.
"Sure," she said standing. They went near the entrance to the girls' rooms. "So, what's the matter?" Ginny repeated.
"Ginny, I need to ask you a favor," he said glancing at the door once and remembering the protection on the stairs to the girls' room he and Ron discovered in their fourth-year. "It's from Hermione, I need you to fetch something from her trunk but, I cannot wait for her to come back," Harry invented in the spur of the moment, "it's urgent."
"Sure, what's it?" Mentally sighing of relief for having such a cooperative answer, he told, "A vial or bottle, look for something that could contain a liquid." Looking at Ginny's unconvinced expression he added; "Right. It's a potion of some sort but I'm pretty sure it must be in her trunk... what?"
"You are asking me to steal from her?" she said rather confidently.
"Err," Harry began, immediately correcting himself, "No! Of course not, I'm planning to return it."
"Right, like you could use a potion and then throw it up to the bottle again," Ginny said cunningly. Before Harry could respond to that Ginny offers; "OK, I'll do it. If it's a potion I believe I've got an idea of where it would be kept. Wait here."
With that Ginny disappeared up the ladder. Harry waited 15 minutes before Ginny reappeared downstairs but she was carrying the bottle so Harry kept to himself all demands. He thanked her and even pecked her on the cheek before taking off, just by the time Hermione was coming back though the portrait hole. Harry got a "hey!" by Ginny's part but other than that he managed out and though the corridors fine.
Finally Harry was there, in front of the portrait leading to the Slytherin Common Rooms he remembered fairly well. He waited behind a suit of amour for someone to enter or exit. The first Slytherin leaving was Gregory Goyle, one of Malfoy's cronies, and going Harry's way – Harry realized: he had been so stupid to forget to take someone's hairs for the potion! (He didn't believe Hermione to have that set for him.) So when Goyle passed his side Harry stunned him and hid him behind the amour-suit asleep. Just then he saw someone coming out and Harry saw his chance: he took a handful of Goyle's hairs, threw it in the potion, called immediately "wait for me" and headed to the door looking down. He realized to take his glasses just in time and make sure the potion to be having entire effect on him before turning to the student.
"Sorry, I didn't remembered the password," Harry said. The student watched Harry quite strangely but let him go though. Harry supposed it was strange on Goyle to be so, umh, cheerful... or to even think at all. The people around staring immediately turned another way whenever Harry caught their eyes. Feeling slightly too tight on the stomach and neck Goyle was seen following the first boy to go upstairs. He didn't have a choice but to look in each and every door looking for his room. Harry was starting to think this was not such a good idea while still furious and determined it getting it over with. It was then when he entered the right room and found Malfoy sitting on his bed reading something.
However, the moment Malfoy spotted Harry, now looking like Goyle, he got the most unusual reaction: Malfoy put the book away and sprinted to the bathroom as if being scared. Just then someone else appeared behind Harry: Crabbe, but a cheerful Crabbe. Actually Harry was so amazed and bewildered by the thing in front of his eyes that he literally plopped to the bed besides him. It was then that Harry noticed that his pants were a little too short for him. Of course, he was in Goyle's body now, nothing would fit! Harry hoped Crabbe wouldn't notice while he slumped at Goyle's – Harry's – side.
By the sound of it Harry could tell Goyle and Crabbe were close but he got zero of what Crabbe was talking about, until he was brought back to reaction from his dizzying by Crabbe's question:
"So, what did you get me?"
Still Harry snaked out of it by sheer luck (apparently he, Goyle, was supposed to steal a Ravenclaw's lunch just before) but it was what followed that caught Harry's attention, when Crabbe went back to Malfoy. Harry stared and listened intently each and every of Crabbe's words. He didn't look like a thick-head at all, on the contrary; he was not buying Malfoy's act and even were putting him under pressure to make him get Harry, him, and otherwise they are getting Malfoy. The last of Crabbe's speech send shivers down Harry's spine; the easiness with which Crabbe talked about Voldemort's orders and of torturing Malfoy, laughing at the idea coldly:
"He's always telling how he's gonna get Potter, so we are just helping him prove his word. It's his task; the Dark Lord wants it that way."
Harry returned to his room later, exhausted of pretending and being dangerously on the verge of being discovered. He had no problems passing thought his Gryffindor companions and slumping in his bed he replayed the conversation in his head. Malfoy situation was one mess of a life, Harry felt stressed just to think about it. He had problems sleeping that night, his last thought being; So, Malfoy was being proved, what did he care? That night he had one of those forgettable nightmares.
February 27th to March 4th.
By She-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Psycho!
Chapter3: Prologue to 'The Trap' II & III
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet (1960), Act 2, spoken by Hamlet
Ginny, or at least it's her at first, or someone who resembles her. And older Ginny, in the kitchen, cooking.
I think I'm married to her.
I go to the door. There's a young man at the door. Familiar and young.
He goes inside as a routine, walking in a briskly fashion. He looks confident by that. Like he was a friend. He dresses formal way- or at least there's something in his images that makes me think we know from work. But then he flops to my sofa. He spreads in it and his legs are up the table. I recognize him:
It's Draco Malfoy.
He looks slightly older, but not much. I think he says some disgusting things- critics to our house I guess- and laughs, or at least I think he laughs. He then brings something, levitate it though air to his hands- I think it was an ashtray. I don't know if he used his wand.
Ginny looks appalled – scared. A muggle Ginny, that's it. She's never seen magic before.
Malfoy looks like about to laugh again at the prospect: "Doesn't she know, Potter?"
I can tell I'm mad at him. Obviously this was not the way I wanted it to be. I'm trying to explain it to my wife:
"I'm a wizard."
She runs away scared. That's all I can register. She doesn't look back- I think, and disappears. I think I tried to follow her. I think it was too late. I focus back to the other one.
I take him from the neck-lace. The smirking Malfoy sneering at me. My mind full of questions that I'm not sure I spoke up at that time. 'Why - why did he do it?'
The smirking Malfoy changes his expression ever so slightly. His features changes like water- but there're his eyes- his eyes who still smirks. His voice is full of hate. Just before his wrath make tense his muscles. But also the look is almost resentful.
"How does it feels like, Voldemort?"
Harry woke up with a start. Hermione was glancing at him though a chair some meters away. Ron looked dumbfounded. The session had stopped; he was no longer hypnotized, he could tell. But Harry could not bring himself to talk.
Hermione spoke in an unsure manner; something not very alike her, "It's all in the tape – if you want to hear it."
But Harry didn't need to: he remembered everything about the dream this time.
Harry Potter is not thinking of pretty much anything all the time. Fourth months of the school term have flown by and it was like Harry was nowhere; it all had started at the start of the year after Harry had come back to the Dursley's. He just couldn't concentrate about reality and that was about to kick him hard.
The proof of that was the last Quidditch match; he didn't even see that coming. But he didn't panic either or felt anything after the tug; it was like he had gone to sleep rather peacefully and hadn't got a notion of what was happening until awaking in the Hospital Wing. It came as an easy shock to awake in there, from being flying up the air at the Quidditch pitch to lay half asleep in one of the Hospital Wing beds the following morning. Ron and Hermione told him the details; Harry had problems believing it but had no problem getting absolutely furious at the thought of Malfoy doing that to him. He wasn't eating it that Malfoy saved him; sure thing Malfoy didn't helped willingly. He had his bottom on the line; expect he could not risk it, so Harry didn't really see how his cowardly self had to do with a good deed to be rewarded. He should have been expelled, no less. Indeed it was strange all the same, that Malfoy helped someone though it was quite saving from himself to start with.
Harry was told to be sent a Stupefy and made fall from his broom to earth by Malfoy; that he could imagine.
After supper at the Great Hall, Harry forgot all about the incident and about Malfoy. He even got to forgot all about the recurrent dream he had been having since the start of the year and that just yesterday, by means of Hermione's help, he got to remember. It was infuriating, to feel so horrible in the mornings but not be able to remember the cause of it.
It was not until late that day at Potions that Harry got a reason to duel about Malfoy again.
He entered the classroom along with Hermione and Ron, who were bickering as usual, when feeling something strange; a pulling deep inside. Harry was brought back to reality when Ron and Hermione's discussion had rise a level in volume and was provoking him a headache.
"People, is the bickering that necessary?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, Hermione, do you think you can listen to what I'm about to say before jumping to conclusions about how wrong I am?" Ron demanded.
"Alright, Ron," said Hermione, "As I see you must have a very good reason to think Malfoy is planning something I beg you to go on."
"Thank you," said Ron missing, purposely or not, the hint of sarcasm on Hermione's speech. "I was just wondering what that was about..." Shrugging his shoulders and finishing rather lamely. Harry was clueless and didn't even remember being part of the conversation.
"What about?" Harry asked truly puzzled.
"Nothing, Harry," Hermione said rolling her eyes. "Ron is bitter because he cannot prove his theory that all the people in the Slytherin House are evil."
"Hermione, why don't you for a change hear me out?" Ron said angrily. "You know how is Malfoy, what's in there to trust?"
"True but what's in there to worry?" Hermione answered cunningly, Harry couldn't help a chuckle. "What I'm saying is that Malfoy isn't really a threat, at least not while we are at school and with a teacher near –"
"Right, because there's a teacher guarding the castle at every corner!" Ron said scathingly. "And it's not only Malfoy, it's everyone there; Crabbe, Goyle, Professor Snape –"
"I'm exactly what, Mr Weasley?"
Needless to say the conversation ended up there with 10 points taken from Gryffindor.
The potion from that class was as difficult as every. Harry wrote down and checked his notes no less than five time not to let Snape have a reason to take points from him, not that it was evitable. But more important he did not trust his poor state of mind and clumsiness those days. Just in cue Harry realized that he forgot his knife to chop some ingredients in his night stand; he cursed mentally and turned to Hermione and Ron to ask for theirs when he remembered that for the last few weeks he was carrying Sirius' knife with him in his pocket. He reached for it but it wasn't there. Harry tried his other pockets but didn't find it and glared into space, trying to remember, when he felt a feeble playful laugh from his left. In the Slytherin part of the room was Malfoy, smirking broadly and childishly, and then Harry understood why:
There, between Malfoy's thumb and middle fingers, was Sirius's knife, swinging mockingly like it was a toy trapeze. Before Harry could utter a world Snape ordered the class to start and Malfoy pocketed the knife – there was something with the way he acted that that seemed not to be related to Snape, but Harry put it aside.
Harry was beyond himself; if something could bring all the rage and hatred slept within him was this, he was not going to take it from Malfoy. Before he knew it Harry was standing on his spot –
"May I ask, Mr Potter, where you think you are heading to?" came an icy voice from the front row area. Harry immediately turned to Snape feeling Hermione tug on his shirt to make him sit down.
Harry was about to respond to that question, to tell that Malfoy has stolen from him and he wanted it back –
"Sit down, Mr Potter, and 5 more points from Gryffindor."
Harry stared at Malfoy once more, furious silence followed. But Malfoy was completely ignoring him which was making Harry angrier. Harry was still feeling Hermione's urgent tugging and sensing Snape as well as everybody's eyes on him. Harry keep staring.
"Yes, sir," Harry said sitting down slowly and without taking his eyes off Malfoy.
Harry was going crazy for the rest of the class. He wanted it over to get the knife back; he didn't care that he spilled an acid substance on his robes, or that the potion got smokier than it should and probably completely wrong, that Snape passes by just to let everyone know how useless Harry was or that he had taken points for such a disastrous job. Actually, as the class drew to an end the tension seemed to thicken the air between, with Harry waiting for his cue and Malfoy ignoring.
Finally the class was over and Harry put his things back in his bag violently and while watching intently to make sure Malfoy wouldn't run before Harry got him. As expected, Malfoy flew from there at the given chance, just when everyone else started leaving – though the commotion, Harry went after him not minding whoever was in the way.
As Harry pushed his way to the exit, for a moment Harry thought he had lost Malfoy before finding him outside heading to the dungeons.
"Malfoy," Harry called charging to him like a bull, Malfoy stood on his spot with his back to Harry. "Malfoy," Harry repeated, this time more dangerously.
Though slowly, Malfoy turned to face him.
"Give it back," said Harry loosing his temper. Malfoy gave no notice of having understood the message or of having the intention of doing so. Nor he responded any given minute; he just stood with his mouth sealed closed. Harry got ready to launch at Malfoy when recognizing Snape's voice, which came behind Harry, Snape just having stepped out of the classroom. Harry didn't turn or tear his eyes off Malfoy even with Snape demanding to know what was happening. Harry was feeling it, that any moment now, any word from that filthy mouth and he was jumping onto Malfoy and killing him. All the nerves and muscles on Harry tensed when Malfoy opened his mouth at last.
He didn't say anything. Malfoy backed out and blankly turned and walked away.
Harry released the breathing he didn't notice holding. All of the sudden the complete scene lighten up -- like getting wider -- and like part of him wanted himself in this place and knowing he didn't commit murder.
Harry avoided giving excuses or answers and just told to want to be alone. He stared, laying in his bed, up the ceiling of the six-year boys' room at night; he had problems deciding what to do next. While he pondered the matter Ron entered the boys' room heading for the trunk and looking for something.
Talking to Hermione? Harry considered this option giving that Hermione was one of his best friends and rather smart but there were drawbacks Harry knew so well. She would tell him to tell a teacher. This was Harry's problem now; he was getting Malfoy for this and without asking for the help of other people being the good boy. He didn't want Dumbledore knowing.
"Ron," Harry started, "Malfoy's got Sirius' knife."
"What?" Ron's head snapped to look at Harry.
"Before Potions; it might have fallen off my pocket and next Malfoy had it," Harry said this being serious.
"How do you know?" Ron asked frowning.
"I saw him with it in Potions; I'm pretty sure he used it to chop the Harpies' nails. I have to get it back."
"How?" Ron asked, still frowning, "what are you planning to do, telling a teacher?"
"No," Harry said immediately. "I don't want help from them; it wouldn't be fair to let Malfoy have a laugh with this so easily, I want him to get what he deserves."
Ron was hesitant and his eyes darted to the door before responding, "I- I don't know, mate. You could get in troubles, Malfoy is not worth it. Does Hermione know?"
Harry shook his head.
"Oh..." Ron said awkwardly. "I think you should tell somebody – Maybe Dumbledore –"
Ron fell quiet after that; Harry didn't talk to him either.
Harry went to bed that night feeling more frustrated than before; his talk with Ron hadn't come out how he expected. If truth being told Harry wasn't surprised by Ron's reaction; on the contrary Harry was mad at himself for just trying. Now Harry had two Hermione's to worry about, moreover Ron was probably turning him in to Hermione who would in change tell a teacher. Harry was not letting Malfoy get it that easy. Harry had to find a way of getting to Malfoy and stealing back the knife, and he must do it before Ron got to tell Hermione. Harry forced his brain think of a way to enter the Slytherin Commons. Somehow he felt like there was something familiar with the concept and then it hit him; it was in his second year, he and Ron had entered the dungeons disguised as Crabbe and Goyle to get Malfoy to confess he was the heir of Slytherin, and Harry remembered Hermione telling the same year that she was keeping some spare of the Polyjuice Potion just in case. So Harry would have to find a way of getting hold Hermione's things and getting that back from Hermione.
Harry stood and headed to the commons. Ron was there chatting with Neville and Dean while Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Harry saw Ginny talking to some fifth-year girls nearby the fireplace and went to her side, immediately the girls went quiet which Harry found uncomfortably strange.
"Hi, Harry? What's the matter?" Ginny asked in an easygoing manner.
"Ginny, can I talk to you? In private," Harry added eyeing Ginny's giggling friends.
"Sure," she said standing. They went near the entrance to the girls' rooms. "So, what's the matter?" Ginny repeated.
"Ginny, I need to ask you a favor," he said glancing at the door once and remembering the protection on the stairs to the girls' room he and Ron discovered in their fourth-year. "It's from Hermione, I need you to fetch something from her trunk but, I cannot wait for her to come back," Harry invented in the spur of the moment, "it's urgent."
"Sure, what's it?" Mentally sighing of relief for having such a cooperative answer, he told, "A vial or bottle, look for something that could contain a liquid." Looking at Ginny's unconvinced expression he added; "Right. It's a potion of some sort but I'm pretty sure it must be in her trunk... what?"
"You are asking me to steal from her?" she said rather confidently.
"Err," Harry began, immediately correcting himself, "No! Of course not, I'm planning to return it."
"Right, like you could use a potion and then throw it up to the bottle again," Ginny said cunningly. Before Harry could respond to that Ginny offers; "OK, I'll do it. If it's a potion I believe I've got an idea of where it would be kept. Wait here."
With that Ginny disappeared up the ladder. Harry waited 15 minutes before Ginny reappeared downstairs but she was carrying the bottle so Harry kept to himself all demands. He thanked her and even pecked her on the cheek before taking off, just by the time Hermione was coming back though the portrait hole. Harry got a "hey!" by Ginny's part but other than that he managed out and though the corridors fine.
Finally Harry was there, in front of the portrait leading to the Slytherin Common Rooms he remembered fairly well. He waited behind a suit of amour for someone to enter or exit. The first Slytherin leaving was Gregory Goyle, one of Malfoy's cronies, and going Harry's way – Harry realized: he had been so stupid to forget to take someone's hairs for the potion! (He didn't believe Hermione to have that set for him.) So when Goyle passed his side Harry stunned him and hid him behind the amour-suit asleep. Just then he saw someone coming out and Harry saw his chance: he took a handful of Goyle's hairs, threw it in the potion, called immediately "wait for me" and headed to the door looking down. He realized to take his glasses just in time and make sure the potion to be having entire effect on him before turning to the student.
"Sorry, I didn't remembered the password," Harry said. The student watched Harry quite strangely but let him go though. Harry supposed it was strange on Goyle to be so, umh, cheerful... or to even think at all. The people around staring immediately turned another way whenever Harry caught their eyes. Feeling slightly too tight on the stomach and neck Goyle was seen following the first boy to go upstairs. He didn't have a choice but to look in each and every door looking for his room. Harry was starting to think this was not such a good idea while still furious and determined it getting it over with. It was then when he entered the right room and found Malfoy sitting on his bed reading something.
However, the moment Malfoy spotted Harry, now looking like Goyle, he got the most unusual reaction: Malfoy put the book away and sprinted to the bathroom as if being scared. Just then someone else appeared behind Harry: Crabbe, but a cheerful Crabbe. Actually Harry was so amazed and bewildered by the thing in front of his eyes that he literally plopped to the bed besides him. It was then that Harry noticed that his pants were a little too short for him. Of course, he was in Goyle's body now, nothing would fit! Harry hoped Crabbe wouldn't notice while he slumped at Goyle's – Harry's – side.
By the sound of it Harry could tell Goyle and Crabbe were close but he got zero of what Crabbe was talking about, until he was brought back to reaction from his dizzying by Crabbe's question:
"So, what did you get me?"
Still Harry snaked out of it by sheer luck (apparently he, Goyle, was supposed to steal a Ravenclaw's lunch just before) but it was what followed that caught Harry's attention, when Crabbe went back to Malfoy. Harry stared and listened intently each and every of Crabbe's words. He didn't look like a thick-head at all, on the contrary; he was not buying Malfoy's act and even were putting him under pressure to make him get Harry, him, and otherwise they are getting Malfoy. The last of Crabbe's speech send shivers down Harry's spine; the easiness with which Crabbe talked about Voldemort's orders and of torturing Malfoy, laughing at the idea coldly:
"He's always telling how he's gonna get Potter, so we are just helping him prove his word. It's his task; the Dark Lord wants it that way."
Harry returned to his room later, exhausted of pretending and being dangerously on the verge of being discovered. He had no problems passing thought his Gryffindor companions and slumping in his bed he replayed the conversation in his head. Malfoy situation was one mess of a life, Harry felt stressed just to think about it. He had problems sleeping that night, his last thought being; So, Malfoy was being proved, what did he care? That night he had one of those forgettable nightmares.
February 27th to March 4th.
extra-note: The reason why Harry was looked strangely by that Slytherin student at the entrance of the Common Room was because he was still wearing a Gryffindor uniform that, yes, was several sizes too short for him. As you see Harry isn't that good with details as Hermione Well, let's give it to him that he didn't have much time to plan it, plus he's being extra-distracted.