They crept out of the common room without seeing anyone. Putting on Harry's old invisibility cloak, they crept along through the empty corridors, jumping whenever they caught sight of one of the suits of armour that were liberally distributed throughout the castle. After a good half hour of cautious sneaking, they found themselves at the entrance to the third floor corridor.

'Right, we're going in.'

'After you, Harry.' replied Draco.

Harry cast Alohomora and opened the door. They found themselves in a long corridor. Draco looked about, wide eyed and nervous –where was the dog?

They followed the corridor around a slight bend, and there was another door. It was ajar. Inside was a terrible rasping sound, of three heads snoring simultaneously, with the tinkling of a harp playing a melody over the top. They crept in and timidly opened the trapdoor. Then they heard, or rather didn't hear, the last thing they wanted to hear. The harp stopped playing. Slowly the great beast began to wake.

'What do we do now?'

'Only one thing we can do – jump!'

And so they jumped. They fell for what felt like an eternity, which came to a sudden halt when they landed on a soft, rubbery thing. After a couple of seconds, Ron realised what it was.

'Hah! Lucky this plant thing's here really.'

'Lucky!' shrieked Hermione, 'have you looked at yourself recently?! You're covered in it!'

'What?!' yelled Draco. 'I know what this is, it's devil's snare!'

'Great, now what do we do?'

'Well, what was it Professor Sprout said about devil's snare?' said Hermione, mainly to herself. 'Ahh! Got it! Devil's snare. Devil's snare –it's deadly fun but will wilt in the sun.'

'So light a fire!' yelped Harry.

'But I haven't got any matches!'

'ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?' Bellowed Ron.

'Oh!' exclaimed Draco as Hermione whipped out their wands and started to create small fire. The plant soon started to loosen its grip, trying hopelessly to get away from the terrible flames and before long they were free.

They hurried away before the plant changed its mind and found themselves in the next chamber. Inside there were four old broomsticks. The door leading out was locked.

'What's that fluttering sound?' asked Draco, looking up.

'Birds.' said Ron.

'No, not birds,' said Harry, 'keys!'

'What, we're supposed to catch them?'

'There are four broomsticks, why not try? It'd be like being a seeker.'

They mounted the brooms and kicked off from the ground. Instantly the keys, which had been flying rather sedately, accelerated until they were buzzing around like a swarm of oversized bees. Draco and Harry were the most confident on their brooms- Hermione hated flying and Ron had nearly crashed into a wall on take-off. Together the two who could fly well searched for they key they had identified as a likely candidate from the ground. Suddenly Harry spotted it and entered a dive.

'Watch out!' screamed Hermione. She thought he was going to crash. To be honest, so did Draco. At the bottom of the dive, Harry caught the key and pulled up, avoiding the stone floor by mere fractions of an inch.

'Wow Harry! Nice catch!'

Draco thought that Harry should try out for Gryffindor seeker next year. He mentioned it.

'Nah, how good could I be- I've never even played quidditch,'

'That doesn't matter, Harry, you're a natural. There's not five seekers in the league who could pull of a dive like that, less if you allow for the fact you were using that cronky old thing.'

'Guys, as fascinating as house quidditch is, don't you think we should get a move on? The wing on this key's bent someone's been here already.' Hermione pointed out. Harry threw Hermione the key and she unlocked the door. As she did so, the keys swarmed aggressively, and made to attack. Split seconds after Hermione had unlocked the door, the three boys came rushing through it, still on their brooms. She slammed it shut and they heard the sound of metal keys banging heavily into the solid oak door.

They walked on through the semi-darkness that surrounded them. They walked through the poorly dusted, low corridors, which any full-size man would have had to stoop in. They walked under a dark arch. Suddenly a vast cavern lit up before them. In this cavern, were some strange statues facing each other, some of white marble and some, nearer to them, of black basalt. On the far side they could see a door. They walked as one towards the door, but when they drew level with the creamy white statues, they found that their way was blocked.

'Draco,' asked Ron, 'have you noticed what I have?'

'How am I supposed to know what you've noticed?'

'We're on a chessboard.'

'Oh great! I suppose that you are baggsying being the general then?'

'Of course- I'm the best player here.'

Draco snorted as if he disagreed but said nothing. Harry, Ron and Hermione took the positions of the Queen's side Rook, Knight and Bishop.

'Sorry, Draco- you're the Queen.'

Draco dutifully took up his position. Secretly he didn't mind being the queen- so what if it was a woman? It's the most powerful piece on the board, for Merlin's sake. Draco never minded taking positions of power- that was something his Dad had taught him long ago. Always take the lead, or if you can't, be the one who tells the leader where to go.

And so the game of chess began. Ron started by setting up a pawn wall and using his knights to raid and assault the enemy pieces beyond. Suddenly Ron was left in a quandary, to attack or not to attack. To attack would break open the pawn wall, not to attack would let white's last rook wreak havoc about the board. Ron opted to break the wall. The game entered a new phase; occasionally Draco was directed on a mad dash across the board, in a desperate bid to save one of the others. White however was still losing pieces, although the white queen was still alive, an ever-present threat to Ron's game. Then he saw the opportunity to checkmate the white king. He just had to get Harry there, which required the queen not to be there and to do that. Ah. He'd have to sacrifice himself. Draco spotted what Ron was planning mere moments later.

'Ron! Are you crazy! There has to be another way!'

'There isn't!'

'Draco, you know what to do.' Said Ron, placing his trust in Draco's abilities. Draco was not insensitive to the compliment, but was primarily concerned for his friend as he took three steps forward and one to the left. The white queen started to move. Slowly the stone monster moved across the board, closing in on Ron like an elderly troll- it may be slow, but you knew when it arrived, well, it didn't really bear thinking about. The queen took Ron. Draco moved Harry to checkmate the king. The game was over. They had won. Immediately Harry and Hermione rushed with Draco over to Ron.

'What do we do?'

'We can't just leave him here- we've got to get him to the hospital wing.'

'True. Why don't we split up?' suggested Draco,' you two go on, I'll take Ron back.'

'Don't you think I should take him back? - you're better at magic and stuff than I am, Draco.'

'Harry, somehow I've got a feeling that it needs to be you going forward. Don't know why, but Hermione's the brains, you don't need me too.' Hermione blushed at this.

'Alright then. See you later. Get a message to Dumbledore after you've got Ron to safety.'

'Yeah, sure thing. Leave it to me.'

Draco lifted up the stunned Gryffindor over his right shoulder and dragged him back to the room with the keys. They had settled down slightly. Draco dragged Ron through, holding the broom that he'd picked up in the ante-chamber. They got back to the devil's snare, Ron still out cold. Draco dragged Ron onto the back of his broom, wishing that it wasn't quite such an old one. With one hand for himself and another to stop Ron falling, he kicked off. The broom slowly ascended. He went up and up towards the trapdoor. Once he was through that. He'd have an angry triple headed dog to deal with. Great. Trusting to the speed of the broom Draco soared out through the trapdoor, and with the mad dog barking at him he soared out of the room, feeling grateful that they'd forgotten to close the door. He landed heavily just outside Fluffy's room and once more started to drag Ron along. Out of the third floor corridor, up two flights of stairs and putting Ron into the care of Madame Pomfrey, Draco quickly left, after making the minimal amount of excuses and snuck out to the owlery. Up the bleak, stone steps, he soon found his own owl. He pulled out his quill and a spare piece of parchment. Always carry spare pen and parchment, his mother had told him before he had left for Hogwarts, you never know when they might be useful, she had said. How true that seemed now.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Someone is stealing the Philosopher's stone.

Harry and Hermione trying to stop it. Need help.

D Malfoy.

He set the owl off, and went back to the dormitory. There was nothing else he could do now, Pomfrey had told McGonagall. He had told Dumbledore. It was out of his hands.

The next morning, Draco woke up to find Ron back in his bed. Good. Harry, however, was nowhere to be seen.

'Ron! Where's Harry?'

'Hospital Wing.'

Draco leapt out of bed and got dressed in a hurry. He positively tore through the corridors until he was at the hospital wing. Harry was out cold on a bed. Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey were looking over him, deeply discussing something that Draco couldn't hear.

Draco walked over to them.

'Hello Draco.' Said the elderly headmaster, 'How are you?'

'Fine, thanks, Sir. How's Harry?'

'He'll be alright. I got back just in time, thanks to a little note I got. Handsome owl by the way.'

'Thanks.' Draco gave a small smile, 'What happened?'

'Well, the stone is safe, thanks to Harry. By the time he wakes it will have been destroyed.

'But Flamel-'

'Ahh, so you know about my old friend Nicholas do you, good. You really did go about this the right way, didn't you?'

'It was mainly Hermione.'

'I dare say you played your part. But yes, with the stone gone, Nicholas will die. But to be quite honest, I think he feels quite relieved about it. Living forever, so he assures me, isn't all it's cracked up to be.'

With that, Dumbledore left the room.

The remaining days at school passed quickly. Three days later, Harry awoke and Ron, Hermione and Draco spent the rest of their term with him, finding out what had happened and wishing him a speedy recovery. Come the end of term feast, Slytherin won the house cup.

'If only we'd won some more quidditch matches!'

Their lead was decreased significantly, when Dumbledore awarded the four 210 points, but it still didn't quite make up the deficit. The next day they left for home on the Hogwarts express.

Draco was nervous. Today he'd be meeting his uncle for the first time and seeing where he'd spend the summer. What would he be like? Soon after the train pulled in to the station, Draco's eyes started scanning the crowd. He couldn't spot anyone who he didn't quite recognise. His uncle would have blonde hair, of course, all the Malfoy's did- but beyond that.

Five minutes later he felt a hand come down on his shoulder.

'Hello there, Draco.'

Draco span round, to see a tall, dark-haired man.

'You've got your grandfather's nose.' The man said, 'You poor bugger.'

Draco realised this had to be his uncle.

'Uncle Noctifer?'

'Yup. That's me. Guilty as charged.' Noctifer's face burst into a broad smile. 'You're the spitting image of your Dad when he was younger. Except for your nose. You've got your Grandfather's nose.'

Draco was nervous, but felt that this would be a good summer. His suspicions were confirmed, when he arrived at his new home. It was not huge, as the manor had been, but it was certainly quite a large house, very well built. Draco's room was big. Far bigger than the small room that he'd had at the manor. It was far less Spartan too. He had a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and two bookshelves, all in matching beech. There was a small desk and a single bed in the corner. If he stepped outside of the room, his room, it was only a couple of paces to a small bathroom, which his uncle told him was his own. As far as Draco was concerned, this was luxury the likes of which he had not seen, after all his parents had believed that Draco should not exactly suffer, but should certainly live a hard life, just so he would appreciate the money when he came into his inheritance. A family tradition, his father had said. Draco loved his room and gave his uncle a hug.

'Thank-you.' He said.