Draco Malfoy was still waiting for Eleanor on the outer edge of the pitch when he saw McGonagall walking toward him, her face stern.
"Come with me, Malfoy," she said, as she walked him onto the pitch and held up a large purple megaphone.
"This match has been canceled," McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium.
Instantly, there were boos and shouts. Oliver Wood, looking devastated, landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall without getting off his broomstick. "But, Professor!" he shouted. "We've got to play - the cup— Gryffindor -"
Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone, "All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"
Draco moved to walk away but he was pulled back by McGonagall's hand on his shoulder and he realized what was happening. Another muggleborn must have been attacked, and he was about to be questioned for it, no doubt due to the ever-present Slytherin suspicion that still infected the castle.
But, to Draco's surprise, it appeared that he wasn't the only one she was after. He watched as McGonagall beckoned over Potter from his perch on his broom.
"Potter, I think you'd better come with me…" she said, her voice grim.
Draco figured that Potter was still a suspect, unsurprising after the whole incident with Finch-Fletchley, even though he knew the idea was ridiculous. He didn't put it past the teachers to buy into stupid theories with what he knew of their general competency, though.
And to add to it all, Draco watched as Ron Weasley departed from the retreating crowd, his pale face somehow even paler with worry.
"Yes, perhaps you'd better come, too, Weasley…" McGonagall said as she led the three away from the pitch.
"Why's Malfoy here?" Ron whispered to Harry, loudly enough that Draco could hear it.
Draco watched Harry shrug, before he dared a quick glance back at Draco, his face unreadable.
"I thought it would be obvious," Draco sneered. "Didn't you two already mark me off as the heir of Slytherin?"
"We know you're not the heir, Malfoy," Potter responded, which was the last thing Draco had expected him to say.
"Oh," Draco said, a bit lost for words. After a moment, he cleared his head and said, "Finally figured it out, then, did you?"
But they didn't respond as the three of them followed McGonagall into the castle and up the marble staircases. To Draco's surprise, they began to head toward the hospital wing, and not Dumbledore's office as he had been expecting.
"This will be a bit of a shock," said Professor McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the infirmary. "There has been another attack."
And, to Draco's further confusion, they were met by Professor Snape, trailed by a thoroughly confused Daphne Greengrass.
"Draco, what's going on?" Daphne asked when she saw him. "Snape told me there was another attack."
"I… I dunno," he said. "Were you in the common room?"
"No, I was in the Great Hall," Daphne said. "Pansy and I were—"
But before she could continue, Snape and McGonagall hauled the four students into the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was bending over a student, and Draco immediately knew who it was, the bushy hair spread out behind her like a beacon.
"Hermione!" Ron groaned, rushing to the unnaturally still girl.
This was why McGonagall brought him here? He hadn't realized that the Professors must have still thought that he was friends with Granger, despite the fact that he hadn't said a single nice word to her all year. But, he figured, what had happened last year in the forbidden corridor was probably their best indicator for who Hermione had befriended, and they were probably still going based off of that. They must have brought Draco alongside Potter and Ron so he could see for himself the latest victim of the so-called heir. And Draco did feel a pinch of sadness to see Granger in such a state. Mostly, it was just strange to see someone he knew petrified. Uncanny, in a way.
"Oh, dear, is that Hermione Granger?" Daphne asked him, and Draco remembered that she was brought along too.
And this, Draco realized, upset his whole theory. Why was Daphne here ? Draco tried to think back to remember if she had befriended Hermione at some point this year outside of his notice. Really, he thought, if anyone was missing here from Hermione's friends, it would be Eleanor.
Draco felt his breath catch in his throat. His stomach did a funny flip.
His eyes shot up to McGonagall again, whose somber expression seemed to fall even further when she saw the realization play out across Draco's face.
Figuring it out seconds before he saw it didn't make the sight any less shocking.
Snape pulled back the curtain beside Hermione's bed to reveal Eleanor, pale and stiller than death, her eyes open but unseeing, and her frozen forehead contorted in that worried way Draco had gotten so used to. Beside him, Daphne let out a stuttered gasp, but Draco stayed silent, willing what he saw to be wrong, for all of this to be wrong somehow.
"But… she's not even a muggle-born!" Draco argued, sure he found the flaw in the whole thing, the proof this was all some sort of cruel joke. If Eleanor wasn't a muggle-born, then she couldn't be petrified, because the heir wasn't after half-bloods. Simple.
But McGonagall only clucked her tongue and said, "I know this is shocking, Malfoy."
Daphne ran up to the statue that had once been Eleanor and reached out for her hand, held before her like a beacon. At this, Potter and Weasley finally looked up from Hermione, their faces just as shocked as they had been when they had seen their own friend.
"They were found near the library," said Professor McGonagall. "I don't suppose any of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them…"
She held up a small circular compact mirror with a golden butterfly decaled on the front.
"That… that was the Christmas present I gave to Nellie this year," Daphne said, and Draco realized she had started crying at some point. Draco had never seen her cry before.
And that was what finally shook Draco into realizing this was all real , and Nell really was petrified, attacked by the student claiming to be the heir of Slytherin.
"Poor Nell," Ron said.
And Draco lost it.
" Poor Nell?!" Draco demanded, his voice rising. "You two are ones to talk! You were running around suspecting that she was behind all of this! And, what, now you're sad that she's been attacked? Is this enough proof that she had nothing to do with any of it?!" Draco shouted, rage coming off him in waves.
"Of course we didn't want her to be attacked!" Harry yelled back.
"But it's your bloody fault that she was! She had stopped worrying about the whole Chamber business until you three made her feel like absolute shite and–"
"Language! Malfoy, that is enough," McGonagall said, stepping up between Draco and Harry. "Professor Snape will escort you and Miss Greengrass back to your dormitory, and I will take Potter and Weasley back to Gryffindor Tower."
"I wasn't finished!" Draco shouted at McGonagall.
"Yes, you were!" McGonagall said firmly, and Draco felt the cold hand of Professor Snape on his shoulder steering him away from Eleanor's rigid body, Daphne Greengrass still sniffling behind them.
"Professor!" Draco tried with a final attempt to Snape, but he didn't even flinch as he walked them out of the hospital wing and toward the marble staircases.
"Although I commend your attempts to defend your friend against Potter, I should think that now is neither the time nor place to do so," Snape said through his teeth.
Draco huffed and crossed his arms, rage still burning.
But, before he could say something worse, he felt Daphne's small hand pull on his elbow, and clutch his arm tightly as they walked, an odd comfort that he hadn't expected.
"Poor Nellie," Daphne said, using her other hand to wipe away the tears still shining on her face.
"It doesn't make any sense. She's not even muggleborn," Draco said, though he knew he was repeating himself. But it was the only argument he had against the whole thing, and he clung to it like a lifeline.
"At least people will know now that she isn't the heir," Daphne said. "Though I wished they had realized it sooner. Did you know that Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott actually accused Eleanor to her face on the train ride home for Christmas?"
Draco sighed. "Because of her mother?"
"Yes, I think so. I mean, I can only assume," Daphne said.
They walked in silence the rest of the way until Snape deposited them at the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, watching to make sure they entered.
When they did, they were immediately rushed.
"Is it true that Eleanor was attacked?" Pansy demanded before she saw Daphne's still tear-streaked face. When she did, she immediately wrapped her up in a hug, and Draco watched as Daphne began crying all over again into Pansy's shoulder.
"And here I thought Slytherins were safe," Blaise said, his voice still cavalier and sarcastic, though much less so than usual.
"Oh, please , Zabini," Theo said, and Draco felt that rage rise up again all at once again at the sound of his grating voice. "Eleanor Capulet hardly counted as a Slytherin."
"What's that supposed to mean, Nott?" Draco asked, his voice a growl.
Theo rose from his seat to meet his eyes, that same cocky grin still cast across his face. "You know exactly what I mean. Sounds like she got what was coming—"
Draco's wand was out in an instant. " Flipendo!"
Theo went flying backwards, knocking into the armchair he had risen from, his head hitting the wood with a satisfying thud .
Before Draco could celebrate, Theo pulled his own wand out, and shouted, "Oppungo!" causing a nearby book to shoot up from its spot on the table and hit Draco in the nose like a punch. Immediately, he felt hot blood rush from it, gathering in his mouth and tasting like copper.
"Expelliarmus!" Draco shouted through the blood and Theo's wand went flying, falling back into Draco's hand.
"That's quite enough!" shouted the voice of a Slytherin prefect Draco recognized as a fifth year named Robin Clayton. "Give Nott back his wand, now."
With a glare, Draco threw the wand on the ground at Theo's feet, using his other hand to wipe away the stream of blood still coursing from his nose.
"Is it broken?" Robin asked Draco, sounding exhausted.
"Don't think so," Draco answered.
"Right. Then I won't report this, alright? Nott, go back to your room and cool off. Malfoy, you stay here with me." When they didn't move, Robin shouted, "Now!"
Apparently in fear of any further antics, the rest of the Slytherins seemed to follow suit, moving back to their dormitories and away from any potential curses. Draco could tell in their faces that the news that a Slytherin had been attacked was hitting all of them, despite Theo's ridiculous claims.
And, to Draco's surprise, Daphne, Pansy, Tracey, and Blaise all stayed behind, joining Draco on the sofa he had slumped in. Blaise even brought over a handful of napkins for Draco to use to try to stop the blood still pulsing from his nose.
"Theo deserved that," Pansy said under her breath, startling Draco even further. "I can't believe Nell was attacked."
"It's awful. Absolutely dreadful. They found her outside the library," Daphne added, her tears seeming to finally have tapered off.
"In the middle of the day, too," Tracey said. "Right under everyone's noses."
"Is it true Hermione Granger was the other victim?" Blaise asked and Daphne nodded.
"Were they together, then?" Pansy asked, her voice still gentle around Daphne.
"I guess," Draco said, feeling his mood sink even further. Attacking Theo had given him an outlet for all of the anger, but left behind was a mounting dread that felt like it was sucking all of the remaining energy out of him. "I was with her only this morning. We were going to watch the Quidditch game together."
"Why wasn't she with you there, then?" Blaise asked. "I saw you outside the pitch. You were alone."
"I was waiting—" but Draco shot forward, causing the ache in his nose to throb hotly. Ignoring it, he rehashed over Nell's strange behavior. She had left after Ron had come over accusing her of stealing the diary! "She had run off about something during breakfast. Said she was going to be right back."
"To the library?" Daphne asked.
"I dunno. She didn't tell me," Draco said, before he was struck with an idea. "Will one of you check her stuff? Maybe she ran to her room first."
"I will," Daphne said, standing up and walking off with Pansy close behind.
It wasn't long before they were back, the color in Daphne's face drained.
In her hands, she held three textbooks, which, to any other person, would be of little importance. But Draco knew those textbooks. He knew where Nell had gotten them.
"This one was open," Daphne said, the realization clear in her voice as well. She handed it to Draco, her fingers holding it open, revealing a bookmark wedged into the binding.
Draco looked it over. "She tore a page out, I think," he said and handed it back to Daphne.
"How are we meant to know what page it was?" Daphne asked, looking for herself at the ripped remnants.
"Check the index," Pansy said quickly, and Daphne flipped to the front of the book, leaving the bookmark to mark their place.
"It doesn't have one," Daphne frowned. "There's no introduction at all."
"Maybe there's a copy in the library we could compare it to," Draco said, an eager rush now replacing the tired dread that had filled him.
"No way," Blaise said, surprising Draco from his thoughts. "That's definitely way too dark-arts for Hogwarts to carry. Maybe in the restricted section. Where'd Eleanor get it?"
"Long story," Draco said quickly, his eyes meeting Daphne's, who, luckily, seemed to understand at once that they were better off not letting anyone else know what Ottilie had left for Nell. "Was there anything else there?"
"Nothing else out of place," Daphne answered.
But they were interrupted by the reappearance of Robin Clayton, her face grim.
"I've just received notice from Snape – Hogwarts is implementing some new rules. The prefects are going around now," she said, unrolling a scroll of parchment. She read from it, "All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."
Draco heard Blaise gasp.
"What, are we prisoners now?" he asked, his face indignant.
"It's for our own safety, Blaise!" Daphne said.
"They're going to close the school, aren't they?" Tracey asked.
Robin nodded. "It's likely. The Professors sounded… Well, let's just say I've never seen them so upset." With a nod, she walked off to give the announcement to the rest of the Slytherins.
Unsure of what else to do, Draco sat back while Daphne cleaned up his face with a wet rag, her hands steady as she worked.
"I'm quite sure it's not broken," Daphne said after a few minutes, leaning back to admire her efforts. "But I think you're going to have some awful bruising."
She handed over a compact mirror, one that looked quite similar to the one Nell had been found with, and Draco opened it to look at his reflection. The bleeding had stopped, but Daphne was right; large purple circles were forming under his eyes.
With a quick check around to make sure no prefects were lurking nearby, Draco pulled out his wand, pointed it at his face, and said, "Negcontusum!"
At once, the bruises began to fade until all that remained were faint greenish shadows.
"That was impressive," Pansy said.
Draco gave a small smile before he said, "I'm aware."
At this, Pansy rolled her eyes and smiled, making Draco feel, only momentarily, that things weren't as awful as they truly were.
After a while, the rest of the second-year Slytherins went off to their dorms, no doubt exhausted and scared for the first time all year. Daphne stayed behind with Draco, who still had no interest in seeing Theo again in their shared room.
Once they were alone, Daphne whispered, "Why do you think the heir attacked Eleanor? You're right. She isn't muggleborn. It makes no sense. I… I thought we didn't have to worry."
"She was with Granger. Maybe she was just an accidental casualty or something. Or maybe whatever she found in that book made her a threat. I have no idea," Draco whispered back, but it wasn't the full truth.
Because he did have another lead. A lead he hadn't shared with anyone.
Weeks ago, during that awful Valentine's Day, Draco had seen the notebook that Nell told him Potter had found. And Draco, to his horror, recognized it.
One of Draco's favorite activities as a child was rooting around his father's office, trying to catch sight of any dark objects or hidden magic that he wasn't allowed to see. In the top drawer of his father's desk, not the fancy one, but the one he actually used in the study room on the third floor, Draco always found that diary . Every time he saw it, he'd open it, but found it empty every single time. And it never moved, stayed hidden in its place in that drawer, locked away like it was valuable, despite all evidence to the contrary. And everything else in the drawer around it would move, so it wasn't as though his father had just forgotten it. No, Draco could always tell there was something more to the old thing, something that drew him in like a crystal ball, all but demanding he look over it again, no matter how many times he already had.
Draco had studied the thing so many times that, when he saw it fall out of Potter's bag, he recognized it in an instant. And then he remembered the ' T. M. Riddle' written in fading ink on the front, the same name that Nell had asked him about after she first saw it. He hadn't thought of it then, far too sure that the diary Potter was prattling on about was nothing more than a bit of rubbish.
But now, Draco was sure the diary was full of some sort of dark magic, valuable enough for his father to keep hidden, and, Draco assumed, no doubt related to everything that had happened this year. Potter had gotten something right for once, afterall.
But Weasley had told Draco only that very morning that the diary was stolen from Potter, no doubt by the person who had owned it before they had found it. Draco was sure it was all connected somehow, though he had no idea how or why . And he couldn't go around telling people that the journal was connected to his father either, unless he wanted to be personally responsible for the Malfoys' full public disgrace by the entire wizarding community.
So Draco was left to figure it out alone, working backward from the scattered clues that remained. And Daphne, though trustworthy, was too much of a liability to include, so he'd have to work with her on only the bare minimum she already knew.
Together, they spent the next few hours reading over the books that Nell's mother had left behind. Unfortunately, there were no more bookmarks, the margins were blank, and everything else they found inside was simply general information, and absolutely nothing to do with what was happening at Hogwarts.
When the common room began to darken with the approaching evening, they were interrupted by yet another surprise.
Professor Snape entered through the passageway and his eyes fell on Draco at once. "Malfoy, your father's here. He'd like to see you."
"My father?" Draco said, trying to hide the surprise in his tone. He handed the book back to Daphne and joined Snape, who led him to the Great Hall.
And, true to Snape's word, Lucius Malfoy was there, standing tall, his walking cane held beneath clasped hands.
"Ah, Draco! Thank you, Severus."
Snape nodded and walked off, leaving the two alone.
Lucius continued, "I'm here on official business. Thought I'd say hello and ask how your classes are going," Lucius said with a smile, as if the day were like any other.
And something about seeing his dad made all of that sadness and panic rush through him again, and he couldn't help but blurt out, "Father, didn't you hear about the attack? It was on Eleanor— She's been petrified."
His father's face did not change.
"Oh, yes. I did hear about that. It's why I'm here, actually," Lucius said with a smile. "I'm here to remove Dumbledore as Headmaster. Voted by the school board after they caught wind of the… unfortunate attack this morning. Delightful news, truly."
"But, didn't— didn't you hear me? Eleanor is petrified! She isn't even a mudblood!"
Lucius sighed, his pointed face morphing to disappointment. "Please, Draco. Pull yourself together. Whatever happened to that girl isn't for you to worry about."
"She's my friend!" Draco shouted, that same fury rising up, rolling over any decorum he was usually expected to show around his father.
"Do not shout at me, Draco. It sounds like that girl being petrified will do you a bit of good. Whatever she did to upset whoever it is that's been attacking students was clearly more than any protection her blood held. Maybe it's for the best that you learn this lesson this way," Lucius said through his teeth.
"But–"
"Hadn't you already given up on this needless friendship anyway? At least, that was the impression your mother and I had, until we came to find that the lovely jumper your mother sent you for Christmas was seen being worn by that girl. Care to explain how it ended up with her?"
Draco's mouth fell open, but nothing came out.
"Now, go back to your room, Draco. If there's someone for you to be upset with, it should be your Headmaster. I've nothing else to say to you," Lucius finished, his face cruel and uncaring.
He turned, walking to the doors of the Great Hall, when the words erupted from Draco.
"Why's your old diary at the castle, Father? Who's T. M. Riddle?" he shouted, his voice echoing in the empty hall around them.
His father whipped back around so quickly, Draco at first thought he had been hexed. But the expression across his face was nothing short of furious confusion, Lucius now rendered as speechless as Draco had been.
He stomped toward Draco, who held his ground despite the nervous tremor that his hands took on.
"I've no idea what you're talking about," Lucius said through his teeth as his left eyebrow gave a slight twitch. "And if I hear anything again about the diary or that name, I will pull you out of Hogwarts myself. Do I make myself clear?"
Draco nodded, glaring back into his father's eyes as though he were seeing them for the first time.
When Lucius turned around to leave again, Draco said nothing to make him stay. Because, even if Lucius hadn't realized it, he had given Draco the clue he needed.
Because you don't grow up in a household like the Malfoy's without learning a few tricks of your own. The best one that Draco had found was a tell. Whenever his father lied to him, his left eyebrow would twitch, just minutely. It was something Draco had figured out when he was six, demanding answers about what he'd be getting for his birthday that year. Furious, his father told him nothing , and Draco saw the twitch for the first time. He used it for years after, always testing to make sure it was still there.
And, now, Draco had seen that same twitch when his father claimed not to know about the diary. This wasn't a surprise, as Draco had recognized the diary himself, but it was still plenty helpful. Because if his father felt the need to lie, Draco knew that the diary definitely had something to do with the Chamber of Secrets, and, by finding it, Draco might be able to find the heir.
And when he did, Draco would show them what happened when you fucked with someone like him.