Draco walked down the stairs, each one a different thought. Was this my father's doing? Draco asked, letting his half-made skien fall, and plucking it up by different threads. No, he shook his head. Father might be able to twist Snape into doing this (all the better for a chance to be rid of Potter for... how long exactly?), but... no, no, no. Never, not in a million years, could Lucius Malfoy manage to get Neville Longbottom to do what he's been doing. Neville would look with blank incomprehension, and simply ask "Why?" And none of Lucius' schemes, machinations or sleights of hand could make Neville do what he thought was wrong. And ... this is something that Longbottom would have thought wrong. Draco was nearly certain. Taking fleeting... hope? confidence? away from people who had very little to begin with, after Potter's "death."
Draco was absolutely certain he was missing a key piece of the puzzle. Why Longbottom, the "almost boy who lived"? That... that pointed back to that night, the night when Potter's family died. When Draco's mad aunt (less mad then) had Crucioed Longbottom's Parents. These... they had to be connected. And the connection was the Dark Lord.
Draco stopped, his foot dangling over another stair. He didn't want to make the next step, think the next thought. He knew, somewhere deep in himself, that the next step would be irrevocable.
He made it anyway. Only fools thought Slytherins lacked courage. Hadn't Granger proved that even Gryffindors could be cunning when needed?
Harry Potter was going to fight the Dark Lord. He who should not be named.
Draco looked blindly around the spiral staircase. Why had they not wanted a Gryffindor for the job? Wasn't that practically the calling of their entire House?
[a/n: sorry these are so short. Leave a review, whether you like it or not!]