Draco stood, his lean and lanky form stretching in the dark hollow of the library's mezzanine nook. He had checked over the plan, twice, three times. Slept on it, and again looked over the whole thing. He studied it again, now, trying to hide his nervousness - a Slytherin habit that he employed instinctively. No one should ever see a Slytherin indecisive. Hesitation was far worse than being wrong.
Draco Malfoy was very, very much aware this might not work. Oh, he had done his best, but Herbology wasn't his strongest subject. He wished he could ask Snape, or Sprout, or even Bones. Someone who could just look over it for him. But the only people he'd trust to keep their bloody mouths shut were Crabbe and Goyle, and they weren't prone to correcting him even if they did spot a mistake.
Draco stared sightlessly at the labyrinth on the page, mentally reviewing each tile, each plant, each tendril and thorn. Finally, he nodded crisply.
He had a Longbottom to hunt.
[a/n: You didn't think I'd leave you hanging, did you? Review more, and I'll write more. ]