It was late. He must have missed the dinner. Having stayed at the Charms classroom practicing on a block of wood till it was turned into ashes, Draco headed directly for the seventh floor. Walking along the corridors where students were chatting and laughing with each other, he found himself quite envy them, longing for those days when he was strutting around the castle, taunting Potter and Weasley for fun with his sidekicks, triumphant if he gained the upper hand, and annoyed sometimes if he was on the losing side … All in all, all he had to deal with were but three peers.
Only ten months had passed since then, and yet it felt so surreal, as if it all happened in another lifetime. He could no longer savor the peaceful school life, since he had already entered a different world.
Draco flashed a smile to a group of girls peeping at him, who squeaked and flushed and then giggled.
If only they knew what I was thinking about everyday, they wouldn't dare approach me. Thought Draco viciously.
Whether it being murdering the Headmaster, or going against the Dark Lord, the problems facing him were so precarious that perhaps he should feel proud for getting himself into such a delicate situation?
Draco made his way to his destination, on the opposite of which was an enormous tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet. Listening to the footsteps trailing ten inches behind him, Draco twirled his wand between his fingers, itching to curse someone. What was Potter playing at to stalk him day after day?
That invisibility cloak of Potter was indeed handy, hiding him perfectly, free of the flaw that Disillusionment Charms had of not being able to move fast. But then again, it was just because of the overconfidence in his cloak that Potter made little effort to conceal his footsteps. Such were the Gryffindors that they used far more guts than brains. Since Draco saw him through last time on the train, how come Potter did not think he would be exposed the second time?
Draco walked past the Room of Requirement without stop, and then turned right unhesitatingly, as if he was just passing by. Potter, who knew the existence of the hidden room, hesitated for a moment by the room, not following up close. And that moment was enough for Draco.
Abruptly Draco pushed open the door of an empty classroom nearby, casted upon himself a Disillusionment Charm in a second, and retreated backwards to the wall opposite the door. Hearing the sound of opening the door, his stalker immediately gave up investigating the Room of Requirement and hurried along. When he approached the door and was peering inward, Draco, who had been counting his footsteps, stunned him wordlessly. And so fell "the Chosen One".
"How on earth did you manage to escape from the Dark Lord alive more than once? I find it quite hard to imagine. Tsk tsk!" Draco removed the invisibility cloak from Potter, who was lying on the ground, his glasses awry, a piece of parchment grasped in his hand. Fishing out the parchment, Draco was awestruck by it at the first sight.
On the parchment was a detailed map of Hogwarts Castle and the grounds beyond, including many secret passageways out of the school that Draco had no knowledge of. What was more remarkable was the moving dots, each labeled with its corresponding name. Looking at the map carefully, Draco finally came to know how Potter had behaved so actively without being caught by Filch for years.
At the moment the dot belonging to Hermione Granger was in a nearby corridor. Maybe she had come with Potter for the seventh floor and chosen to wait for her friend while Potter went seeking him. Staring at the minuscule dot, for a while Draco battled with himself.
No, I must memorize the secret passages on the map now, put it back in Potter's hand, and get myself inside the Room of Requirement before anyone knew – yet as he was thinking, his feet had already brought him to the corridor where Hermione was – instead of stupidly admiring (yes, he should use the word "admiring"!) that Granger who seemed to be in a daze.
Hermione was sitting on the sill of an open window with two schoolbags lying near her feet. Her chin and lips were muffled up in a long red scarf, while her eyes were gazing at somewhere distant. Twilight shone through the window behind her and poured down on the dark stone floor. The vision was like an old painting depicting a young maid, who was such a combination of tranquility and warmness that Draco held his breath for the sight.
Something was in Hermione's hand that she was touching with her delicate fingers. Draco knew without looking that it was his Book of Memory, the closest existence to his life, the magic connection between which gave him the ability of knowing the surroundings of the book, and when he was close enough, as now, the book would start recording automatically, and the four grey crystals would be shining with a golden gleam.
Draco lay back against the wall and closed his eyes. He just wanted to know she was safe, wanted to fill what was left of his life with memories all about her, and wanted to feel the being of her when she carried it. But wasn't it a quite despicable trick? Was she aware of it, she might throw it away indignantly, or even find ways to destroy it.
Five minutes was gone since his Stunning Spell hit on Potter. Looking at the map in his hand, Draco found with no surprise that a labeled dot showing McGonagall was hurrying out of her office, that Dumbledore was leaving the edge of the Forbidden Forest for the castle, and that another tiny dot had already reached the seventh floor. The Order of Phoenix did have "the Chosen One" securely guarded. Backing away under cover of the statues and suits of armor in the corridor, he stopped midway when he made out the name of the arriver.
"What's your business here, Miss Granger?" Sounded a low, sneering voice. Quiet as a ghost, the appearance of Severus Snape gave Hermione a fright.
"I – just sitting around, Sir."
"Where's Potter?"
"Where? Sorry, I mean, I don't know, Sir. I am not with him –"
"Don't lie, girl. Where is Potter? If Dumbledore's protective spells worked right, he was attacked five minutes ago."
Accurate, wasn't it? The protection on Potter. Stroking his chin, Draco saw Hermione become panicked. Clenching the handkerchief in her fist, she told the truth after a moment of hesitation.
"Harry was following Malfoy. He should be in the Room – the corridor on the east."
"Following Malfoy? Why?"
"… He thought Malfoy was up to something …"
Snape narrowed his eyes but said nothing, then he headed for the that corridor. Hermione picked up the schoolbags and hurried behind. Draco walked lightly ahead of them, keeping a distance within which he could hear their conversation without being discovered.
"What is it in your hand, Miss Granger?" asked Snape suddenly, eyeing the handkerchief in Hermione's hand.
"Just a handkerchief, Sir."
"I wasn't under the impression that you had a handkerchief that's so … dear. You bought it yourself?" His tone dripped sarcasm. Hermione's face reddened instantly.
"It – it was a gift!"
"And who was this overgenerous provider?"
"… I don't know …"
A low, jeering laugh escaped from Snape's lips.
"So it's Mr. 'I don't know' … apparently you like it. Nice, isn't it? Perfect to show off."
"I do like it, but not for the reason of showing it off!" Biting her low lip fumingly, Hermione pocketed the handkerchief and quickened her steps.
"Standing on guard in the chilly, dark corridor all alone at this hour, Miss Granger, what do you think was Mr. Malfoy doing in a corridor?" asked Snape slowly.
"Harry –"
"I wasn't enquiring Potter's opinion, but yours. Aren't you the Gryffindor know-it-all?"
Hermione was caught off guard by the question, her lips parted, evidently confused. Watching her expression, Draco's heart sank, his palm sweating.
"I have no idea, Sir." Answered Hermione airily after a moment of thinking, "Nor do I have any interest in Mr. Malfoy's behavior."
Another jeering smile appeared on Snape's face as he darted a glance in Draco's direction. The moment Draco's eyes met his, he knew that Snape had meant this conversation to be heard by him.
Draco returned to the place where Potter was lying, thrusted the map back in his pocket, and then hid himself behind a suit of armor.
Several minutes later, McGonagall also arrived. She hastily checked the unconscious boy and breathed a sigh of relief when finding the boy was merely stunned.
"Malfoy! Malfoy attacked me! I was following him when he suddenly disappeared and cursed me!" Potter waved his arms madly. "Hermione, have you seen him? He need to get past you if he wanted to leave."
Hermione hesitated, and then shook her head.
"No, I didn't see him coming this way. If it was Malfoy who attacked you … just a Stunning Spell doesn't seem to be his style, does it?"
"Just a Stunning Spell? –Yeah, well, that sounds right …" Potter cooled down and admitted, begrudgingly. "Malfoy would have done something worse."
"It's all right," said Hermione, who was kind of amused by the expression on Potter's face. She patted him on the back. "No need to worry about him."
"He must be plotting something, or else why would he skip the dinner and come here?"
"Okay," replied Hermione, "let's say Malfoy does have a plot, then we need to discuss it further. Come on, we'd better get back now."
Snape was eerily quiet as the scene put on. Watching Hermione and Potter leaving shoulder by shoulder after McGonagall, he let out a snort.
With one wave of his wand, Snape lit the torches along the stone walls.
"Don't act rashly around Potter. That won't do you good." Turning around, Snape spoke quietly to the place where Draco was hiding.
"Only he did not follow me around next time so foolishly."
Snape quirked his lips slightly, seeming to admit that Potter was such a thorn in the side. The chilly wind was blowing, Snape's black robes billowing behind, like a pair of wings.
"How do you feel, after hearing Miss Granger's opinion of you?"
"Professor, I didn't think triviality interested you."
"I swore to take care of you, Draco, so I must warn you –"
"I know what you're aiming at, and I'm also clear that she not only does not 'have any interest in Mr. Malfoy's behavior', but even hate me, so what?" Stepping out of shadow of the armor, Draco revealed himself in front of Snape.
"'There's always somebody pining with unrequited love'? When have you become a somebody as such?" sneered Snape, as if Draco had told him a lame joke.
"When I want something only she owns."
"What is it?"
"Forgiveness," Draco stared into Snape's eyes, "maybe the same as you did."
Upon hearing the words, the man was taken aback. His sallow face paled, his eyes became lusterless, and a long, deep hole seemed to have been drilled into his darkest past where the bleeding wound only enlarged overtime, incurable however hard he tried.
"So you're asking me to give up?" Draco smiled, "I won't."