Chapter Two
Parkinson was at it again.
She sat in the back row of the Charms classroom, staring at his backside like she was a starving pigeon and he was the peanut she had been longing to eat. Draco felt unnerved by it – not only had she already feasted on him an hour earlier but it had been one of the most revolting experiences of his life.
Sex with Parkinson had once been enjoyable in a manner of speaking; he certainly enjoyed it more than watching Crabbe and Goyle have mince-pie eating contests that usually resulted with them walking around like drunk buffoons and vomiting in armor helmets.
Draco frowned to himself. He had always wondered what the house-elves put in those pies.
House-elf cooking queries aside for the moment, however.
This morning with Parkinson had not given him an appetite either; in fact, after fifteen minutes of trying to respond to her affections he had walked from the room butt naked, jumpy and in search for a potion that would keep her the hell away.
Obviously he had found no such potion; Parkinson looked ready to sniff his backside and mount readily into position at any moment.
If Draco had not been so calm and collected he would have shuddered at the thought. Instead, Draco thought back to his mission. His success was becoming more urgent; they were now well into the second half of the school year was and although he had an idea as to what he had to do he was yet to fix the cabinet.
It had been a frustrating experience, having wasted most of the school year getting nowhere, having not yet fixed the cabinet completely. It had tired him greatly; he had been ill and run down for months but the task at hand was more important than eating full meals or sleeping eight hours a night.
There was also the problem named Potter.
Draco was entirely aware of Harry Potter's eyes watching his every move. He knew the boy suspected he was up to something; he also knew that Harry knew Voldemort had asked him to go about this mission. Potter's invisible presence in his compartment on the Hogwarts Express was enough to make him certain of it.
Although Draco was yet to catch him in the act, Draco knew Harry was following and spying on him, trying to get answers. It was Potter after all but Draco knew Potter was unlikely to ever get into the Room of Hidden Things while he was there.
Draco jabbed his quill into the parchment before him a little too roughly, causing the material to tear. With a grumble, he pulled out his wand and made a quick repair before he turned his thoughts back to the cabinet.
Tonight, he would practice. Tonight he would try to master the first of the three spells that he would need in order to fix the cabinet in the required time.
A lazy grin came to Draco's lips and he looked up from the parchment in bliss. The grin swiftly flew from his mouth when he heard Parkinson give a tiny, agitated growl from behind him and scoot her table closer to him.
Something was blocking Draco from using the Room of Hidden Things. He paced up and down the corridor, staring at the stretch of wall as he thought wildly of the room and why he needed to get in there.
It had taken an entire two weeks but Draco had finally mastered the magic-restoring charm. He had spent hours upon hours trying it on a damaged Remembrall until finally, just minutes ago, the Remembrall had flashed silver and then, as he lifted it in his hands, had turned red.
He did not know what he had forgotten to do but he assumed that if it was glowing red it meant it was fixed. He was just contemplating using a destructive curse to break through to the room when he was startled into action when the door opened to let someone out.
A sharp tap of his wand upon his head and he watched, Disillusioned, as Hermione Granger gracefully exited. She pushed her fringe out of her eyes before heading in the direction opposite to where Draco stood.
Draco gave a sigh of relief as the wall once again returned to its blank state and once more he paced, breathing another sigh of relief when the door reappeared. He dashed forward and wrenched it open, moving forward in excitement. Reaching the cabinet, he raised his wand and jabbed it against the metallic surface, thinking wildly of the magic-restoring spell.
Nothing happened. "Wha-?"
I was then that it struck him. No matter how well he did the spell, he could not restore the magic until the cabinet itself was fixed. Crumbling to the ground, he wept, the frustration overwhelming him to the core.
It was times like these that he would normally seek out his ghostly friend Myrtle but he did not want to move from the cabinet, hoping desperately that maybe another idea will come to mind in moments, allowing him to quicken the process of fixing it.
Draco sat beside the cabinet for what felt like hours, scolding himself for his stupidity. It was as he made to leave after checking his reflection in the large gold mirror in the second row of junk that he considered going to the closet beside Rogus the Wrecker to get his thoughts in order.
As he left the Room of Hidden Things, he was surprised to see that Hermione Granger was lingering in the corridor outside. She was looking at him cautiously, her bushy hair falling in messy curls around her face.
"What were you doing in there, Malfoy?" she questioned quietly.
"What? Potter can't come and ask me himself?" Draco sneered.
Granger remained quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure I believe what Harry suspects you of."
Draco gave a chuckle. "So you've come to get answers from me in person?" he smirked. "I must say, Granger, I'm surprised you would think I'd tell you."
"I don't think you will," Granger said matter-of-factly. "But I thought I'd give you the warning: you'd be surprised just how many people are watching you!"
"I don't need your help Granger!" Draco snarled harshly. "You're nothing but a foul little Mudblood who needs to stay out of other people's business before she gets what's coming to her."
Granger did not falter. "Forget I even bothered than Malfoy," she said stiffly and with that she walked away.
Draco watched her go with his eyes narrowed. He really hated that witch.
However, there was no doubt in him that her words had affected him some; he felt uneasy about what she said and he suddenly had the lingering feeling of eyes watching him from every angle, despite being alone in the corridor.
Scowling to himself he followed the path Granger had taken towards the stairs before heading down them, pleased that there was no sign of her lingering about.
Finding the statue of Rogus the Wrecker, he checked the corridor carefully before quietly heading in, shutting the door and muttering a locking charm behind him.
He stumbled back against the door when a floral musk scent met his nostrils and he suddenly felt a pair of soft and wonderfully familiar lips pressed against his.
She drew back, Draco cursing the dark for making him blind and unable to see her. His eyes narrowed in wonder when he heard her hushed whisper.
"You don't mind, do you?"
Draco answered by taking her lips in his once more.