"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, his wand still poised and ready. The others were standing around him in a similar, tensed stance.
"I would just love to tell you the whole story, Potter," the other boy drawled, "but don't you think we have other, perhaps, more important things to worry about right now?" He smirked as Harry ducked and narrowly avoided a spell that whistled past his ear. "Come on, then."
Harry watched, split in indecision, as Malfoy turned and started walking away. But there was no time for hesitation. The Death Eaters were close behind. They had no choice but to keep moving forward.
"Let's go," he said to his friends, setting off at a run after Malfoy.
They dashed up the main aisle, dodging spells and casting shield charms haphazardly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neville cast protego around Luna just in time to block a crucio curse. Even in all of the chaos, he couldn't help but smile with pride. Neville certainly had come a long way.
He chanced a look at the nearest aisle. The number on the front read seventy-seven. He groaned inwardly. They weren't going to make it. The Death Eaters were gaining on them every second, and everyone, including himself, was already spent.
To his surprise, Malfoy suddenly veered off from the main hallway and started down another row. Harry stopped in his tracks. He briefly debated leaving him, but in the end, he called out, "Where are you going? The exit is that way." He pointed in the direction of the door where they had come in.
The other boy shook his head. "I know another way out. It's faster, trust me."
"We're not really going to believe him, are we?" Ron's voice, though ragged from exhaustion, was still filled with panic.
Harry glanced back—the pack of Death Eaters were nearly upon them—then down the aisle where Malfoy was waiting for them expectantly.
At last, he shrugged and started down the aisle. If they were going to be forced to fight for their lives either way, he'd take his chances with Malfoy.
They caught up with the blonde-haired boy, who had stopped in front of an oddly bare section of shelves. He muttered revelio, and a second later a door with a brass handle appeared.
Once they had all piled in, Malfoy cast a disillusionment charm to hide the door from enemy eyes. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Harry surveyed his surroundings.
They were in a dusty, ancient-looking corridor. The only light came from mounted candles set at intervals down the length of the hall. Their flames burned blue and cast an eerie, shadowy light over the narrow room.
"Where are we?" Harry asked.
Malfoy glanced sidelong at him. "It's a shortcut that leads to the lifts. This room has one hundred aisles. The main door is placed in front of number fifty—exactly in the middle—but there are also hidden exits placed at aisles twenty-five and seventy-five for lazy bureaucrats who don't fancy walking too far."
When they all continued to look at him suspiciously, he put up his hands defensively. "Hey, my dad works at the Ministry, remember? He's brought me here a couple of times and showed me around."
Harry was opening his mouth to question him further, when Dennis Creevey said in a very trembly voice, "Where's Colin? Where's my brother?"
He glanced around and was alarmed to find that the fourth-year boy was nowhere to be seen.
"Hermione's gone, too," Ron said frantically.
Harry felt his insides crumble. He started towards the door. He was going to find his friends and bring them back safely, even if it killed him.