"Checkmate."
Harry groaned as Ron's knight smashed into his king, ending the game.
"Should have seen that one coming."
"S'alright, you've gotten loads better than in first year. Than last year, even. It takes a certain kind of mind, wizards' chess."
Harry glared at him before they both started laughing.
"I wonder if Slughorn would give me that memory if I beat him in a game," Harry said, growing more serious after a moment. He had met with Dumbledore for another lesson last night, during which he had seen the memories of Morfin Gaunt and Horace Slughorn, the second of which had been altered. Dumbledore had tasked him with getting the true memory from Slughorn, impressing on Harry that their work against Voldemort was riding on it.
"Are you sure you can't just ask him? I still think-"
"I'll try, but I don't want him to put his guard up. Then it'll be even harder to get."
They sat in silence for a little while as they packed up their chess pieces. Hermione still wasn't speaking to Ron, and Harry was getting tired of running back and forth between them. She had taken a gloomier view of the situation, certain that he would need a complex strategy to get Slughorn to reveal his secrets.
If I could get them working together, I'm sure we could come up with something. But as it stands...
Hermione had volunteered to research in the library, to which Harry had no objections. Without her nagging him, Ron seemed content to rest on Harry's reputation with the Potions Master as the ticket to getting the true memory. While Harry appreciated the confidence, he wasn't exactly sure it was earned. If Dumbledore couldn't get the memory... how was Harry going to do it?
His mood soured as he recalled his conversation with Dumbledore.
"I was so focused on Slughorn last night, I forgot to tell you," Harry said. "I brought up Malfoy to Dumbledore, and he wouldn't hear a single word about it. He 'suggested I put it out of my mind, that it wasn't of great importance'. And when I tried to press the issue, he snapped at me."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "That's bizarre. Dumbledore loves you."
"Yeah, well I'm starting to think he loves Snape more," Harry said in a bitter tone, his rook fighting him as he shoved it into his bag. "I just wish I knew why. He won't even consider that he could be wrong about Snape, and now that apparently extends to Malfoy."
Ron said nothing to this, likely because he had nothing new to add. They had had variations of this conversation many times over the winter break - while Ron believed him, he knew they didn't have enough evidence to bring something concrete to Dumbledore.
"Maybe Hermione's right," Ron said after a minute. "As much as I hate to admit it. Maybe we just need to trust Dumbledore, and focus on Slughorn."
"I am focused on Slughorn-"
"Hi Won-Won!"
Harry stifled a groan as Lavender hurried over to them and sloppily kissed Ron on the cheek.
"Oh- hi."
"Do you want to go grab dinner together?"
"Er- no, thanks. Harry needs me right now. He's still-" Ron looked around "-feeling a little upset about Ginny."
"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!" Lavender embraced him. Harry stiffened and patted her shoulder awkwardly.
"It's, uh, it's alright, Lavender," he said, even though it wasn't.
"I'll leave you to it then," she said. "See you later, Won-Won!" And with an obnoxious little wave, she disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
Harry glared at Ron as soon as she was gone. "Thanks for that."
"Sorry," Ron said with a wince. "I'm beginning to think she's part Venomous Tentacula. She just won't let go."
"You also haven't broken up with her," Harry pointed out coolly, his mind uncomfortably drifting to Ginny.
"There is that," Ron agreed. "How did you do it? Maybe I can do the same-"
"I didn't break up with her, she broke up with me," he snapped.
"Right, right," Ron said. "Sorry." He cleared his throat loudly as he stood up and looked around the common room, clearly eager to change the subject. "First Apparition lesson is this Saturday." He pointed to the announcement board near the common room's entrance. All of the eligible sixth years had signed up, including Harry.
Still in a bit of a sour mood, Harry said, "Oh, great. I nearly puked last time."
"It won't be so bad, you just have to get used to it. I told you Charlie didn't pass the first time, right? And he loves flying almost as much as you do - maybe it's a preference thing."
"Yeah, maybe," Harry said, but he was distracted as some fifth year girls came down the stairs. A quick scan told him Ginny wasn't among them. He realized with some embarrassment that, even though these girls were Ginny's friends, he didn't know their names.
"Uh - hey!" he said. The girls stopped. One of them was a bit taller than the rest; her light brown hair was in a loose plait down her back and she had pierced ears.
What's her name again? Katherine something?
"I was just wondering if you've seen Ginny," he asked. The girl with the plait shook her head.
"Sorry, Harry," she said. "I don't think she's up to talking at the moment."
"Yeah, okay," Harry said glumly.
"Come on Kathleen," another girl said, pulling on the sleeve of the other. "We're going to be late, Phillip is waiting for us."
Kathleen - not Katherine - turned away from Harry with a sad smile and followed her friends out of the common room.
"Do you want me to try talking to her?" Ron asked once the girls had left. "Maybe I-"
"No, that's ok," Harry said, forcing his tone to stay light. "I think I'm just going to go...fly around for a little bit. Take my mind off things. I'm going to the Quidditch pitch - I'll see you later."
"Harmonia Nectere Passus. Harmonia Nectere Passus." Draco strained with the effort of willing his magic to flow through the Vanishing Cabinet, his wand arm shaking. It was like he could feel the blockage - like a giant dam blocking a river - and each casting of the spell chipped away at it a little more. He had been working on the Cabinet for nearly an hour already today, and the blockage had barely moved.
"Harmonia Nectere Passus. Harmonia Nectere Passus." Inch by stubborn inch, the block abated, offering Draco brief moments of relief before he had to refocus on the next chunk. This spell had been listed in the book about magical transportation of living beings; he was unsure if it had ever been used specifically on a Vanishing Cabinet before. Was the spell just difficult, or was the Vanishing Cabinet truly that broken?
He continued on for a while longer, until a sudden drip of blood startled him. He reached up to touch his face and his hand came away wet - his nose was bleeding. Sensing his distress, the room brought forth a handkerchief, which he quickly used to wipe his face.
"Ugh. Episkey." His nose felt very hot, then very cold, but the spell seemed to stop the bleeding. He cautiously removed the handkerchief from his face. It was nearly soaked through. He cast a quick Scourgify to remove the blood before tucking it into his pocket.
"Well, Room, I guess that's enough for today," he said. He walked to his usual seat and sat down, suddenly feeling exhausted. He had skipped dinner tonight in order to focus on the Vanishing Cabinet and he was paying for it now. Now that he was on this side of the Christmas holidays, the end of the school year suddenly felt a lot closer. At least once an hour, the thought of What if I don't fix this in time? popped into his mind, bringing with it a bout of nausea and a racing heart. He knew the consequences, was intimately aware of the consequences. But despite his best efforts, so much still felt like it was outside of his control.
Ironic, considering the conversation I'm about to have.
He grabbed his bag and pulled out the two-way mirror. It had become quite a useful tool - he checked in with his parents once a day, to assure his mother that he was doing alright and to run his latest ideas past his father. Draco knew he couldn't ask Lucius to do this for him, that it was his task to complete, but hearing regular feedback helped him feel like he was on the right track.
Looking at his reflection, he realized his face was still covered in blood. That's the last thing Mother needs to see. He cast another Scourgify, wincing as the magic pulled at his skin, before taking a deep breath. Would Father be pleased? He wasn't sure.
"Lucius Malfoy," he said into the mirror, whose surface swirled with fog before clearing and revealing his father's face, looking stern.
"Good evening, Draco."
"Good evening, Father." Draco felt his hands begin to sweat - they always did this little dance at the beginning, always steeped their conversations in formality before getting to the real point.
"I trust that things are well?"
"Yes, Father," Draco said. "I'm making progress with the Cabinet."
"Very good," Lucius said with a curt nod. "Have you been able to determine when it will be ready?"
"Not...not yet. Progress is slow. I'm a ways off from it being completed."
Lucius frowned. "Very well, I suppose. Make sure you're working on it every day, time will slip away before you know it."
I know.
"Yes, Father."
Lucius looked over his shoulder at something Draco couldn't see before taking a sip of what looked like firewhisky.
"And what of your...second task? Have you thought any more about our conversation yesterday?"
Draco winced. They had argued yesterday, with Draco losing his temper with his father for the first time in years.
"I have," he said slowly. "I see your point, but I still think the Polyjuice-"
"Is time-consuming to brew, needs constant re-dosage, and requires the subject to be an adequate actor," Lucius snapped. Draco felt his cheeks redden. "Really, Draco, what is your reluctance? This is childish."
"If I get caught-"
"Then we've all got bigger problems than the Ministry, don't you think?"
"...Yes, Father. Of course."
Lucius's stern expression softened some. "You've been doing remarkably with your Occlumency and Legilimency. This requires a similar skill set - I have complete confidence in you to be able to cast it effectively. Practice it on one of your friends if you need to, but I trust you won't need much practice."
Draco took a deep breath. He could do this. "Blaise will help me, I think. He was a more challenging target for Legilimency, so he would be a better practice partner anyway."
"Very good. Vincent and Gregory are still assisting you as well?"
"Yes, but just as lookouts. I don't trust-"
"All for the better. Vincent's father is the same - always angling to backstab someone."
Then why have you been his friend all these years?
"Alright. So... so I guess I'll practice for a few days with Blaise, and then-"
"You'll need to identify a target. Someone people wouldn't suspect, someone unlikely to fight back."
Draco nodded again. "I already have a target in mind," he said, bringing a smile to Lucius' face.
"Excellent," he said. "I look forward to hearing your progress. Your mother is taking a nap at the moment, but she sends her love. Is there anything else?"
"What should I tell Snape if he questions me? I don't think he'll approve of me using an Unforgivable when we're still so far away from our end goal."
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "You're still meeting with him? Whatever for? From what I understand, you don't need Occlumency or Legilimency lessons anymore."
"I guess not. It didn't occur to me to stop - they're still good practice."
His father curled his lip. "Severus is...useful, but you don't need him any longer. The time spent with him could be spent on the Cabinet. I would ask that you discontinue these lessons at once."
Draco's stomach twisted as he imagined Snape's reaction, thinking of Slughorn's party.
"If he asks why-" he started carefully, but Lucius interrupted him.
"You can tell him you don't need him anymore. You don't need any more help. And you have me now - there's nothing he can give you that I can't. Isn't that right, Draco?"
"Of course, Father," he replied, ignoring his stomach.
Lucius nodded before his expression softened once more. "I would do anything for you - you know that, right? You and your mother both. We must always put family first. The Malfoy family has maintained their power for a thousand years by following that ideal. You can do that, can't you? Malfoys first?"
Draco's heart felt tight. "Of course. Always - Malfoys first."
Draco stood in the Great Hall that Saturday, listening to their Apparition instructor drone on about destination, determination, and deliberation. Or he was trying to, anyway. Crabbe wouldn't stop trying to talk to him.
"You said we wouldn't have to keep doing this-"
"I know what I said, Crabbe, and-"
"Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!" barked Professor McGonagall. Draco flushed as the entire room turned to look at him and he stepped away from Crabbe.
Their instructor continued speaking as though he hadn't heard McGonagall. Draco took a deep breath, willing his mind to the sea. It happened almost effortlessly now - he barely had to think of the water before he could feel the cold sting of the surf against his ankles, before he could hear the steady rhythm of the waves crashing against the shore. With so much practice, he had gotten better at holding a dual awareness - he could be at the beach and also listening to Wilkie Twycross.
He had thought about skipping these lessons altogether - what better time to work on the Cabinet than this? - but he knew McGonagall would think it was suspicious, and he would be expected to be able to Apparate at the end of the year when the Dark Lord's plans came to fruition.
So I suppose I can add this to the infinite list of things I'm supposed to be mastering, he thought bitterly.
The sixth years began to move around - Twycross had asked them to spread out in order to practice. Draco chose a hoop near the back, and unfortunately Crabbe followed him.
"It's been months, how much longer-"
"I don't know how much longer, all right?" Draco snapped. "It's taking longer than I thought it would."
Crabbe opened his mouth to reply, but Draco had lost his patience - it was like Crabbe knew exactly how worried Draco was about his looming deadline. During their Legilimency, he had felt just how much Crabbe wished he could turn the tables and peer inside Draco's mind instead.
"Look, it's none of your business what I'm doing, Crabbe, you and Goyle just do as you're told and keep a lookout!"
"I tell my friends what I'm up to, if I want them to keep a lookout for me."
Fury filled Draco at the smug sound of Potter's voice and he whirled around, his hand going for his wand. What exactly he was going to do once he had his wand in hand, he wasn't sure. All he knew in that moment was that Potter had been a constant thorn in his side, making absolutely everything Draco had been asked to do more complicated. Constantly tailing him around school, making it near impossible to find private time to work on the Vanishing Cabinet. Owning a Deathly Hallow probably without even realizing it, leaving it tantalizingly near and yet out of Draco's reach. Dating Ginny Weasley and thus making her an appealing target for the Dark Lord. Breaking up with Ginny Weasley and making Draco have to go through this whole complicated charade in order to lead her to the Dark Lord, as despite everything, Draco was sure that she was still in love with Potter. He lifted his wand, a curse forming on his lips, but the Heads of Houses shouted "Quiet!" to the students, bringing the hall to order. Potter smirked at him. His breathing shallow, Draco slowly turned to face the front again.
Every step I take brings me one step closer to destroying you, he thought, the image of Potter's self-righteous expression blazing in his mind. You have no idea what's coming, Potter. None at all. And when it's here, I'll be there to watch you suffer.
He allowed his anger to fuel him, feeling the waves of his mind swell higher and higher as they crashed violently against the shore. This, more than anything, would carry him through, he realized. When he was tired or scared or unsure of himself, he need only think of Potter, of how much he hated him, and he would be able to push through anything. Love for his parents was a great motivator, it was true, but it didn't have the same energy, the same passion, that this hatred did. His love for his parents made him act from a place of fear, of weakness. This anger, if he directed it well enough, only felt like power. The Dark Lord's words echoed in his mind, though they were different words than the ones that had been replaying for the past several weeks.
Imagine Harry Potter's face when you steal his lover away - you'll have beaten your old school rival at last.
The Dark Lord had known even then, before Draco had even realized it himself, what a powerful motivator hatred could be. He imagined Potter's face crumpling when he would discover Ginny missing in just a few short months, and smiled.
January slipped away into February, which brought heavy rains and a spate of colds amongst the students. Ginny was finally starting to feel better after taking her third dose of Pepperup Potion a few hours ago. The steam from her ears had stopped, but she still felt quite warm to the touch. She moved to sit in front of the vanity in her dormitory; Jessica had just finished putting on makeup and had vacated the seat.
"Do you really think Phillip would say yes if I asked?" Jessica said as she rummaged through her trunk, probably looking for her favorite hair ribbon.
"Are you kidding? He would be crazy not to!" Ava replied as she pulled on her robes. "I'm thinking about asking Anthony Goldstein." The girls ooh'd and ah'd over this new development, making Ginny laugh. The Hufflepuffs were having an unofficial Valentine's Day party this weekend, and though it was supposed to be a secret, quite a number of students had found out about it already.
"What about you, Ginny?" Kathleen asked. She was laying on her stomach on her bed, her legs kicked up in the air behind her. "Who do you want to ask you?"
"Nobody," Ginny said with a laugh as she started to brush her hair. "I've had enough of boys to last me a lifetime."
"But you are going, aren't you?" Kathleen said, rolling off the bed and hurrying over to the vanity. "You must! I'll be so sad if you don't go." Jessica, Ava, and Lydia, who had all turned to listen to the conversation, murmured their assent. Ginny sighed.
"I wasn't planning on it, no," she said, the brush snagging roughly on a knot in her hair. Kathleen took the brush from her and began to gently tease at the knot, earning a smile of gratitude from Ginny.
"You don't have to bring a date," Kathleen said. "I wasn't planning on bringing one. We could go together. And besides - if we go without a date, that just means we can dance with whoever we want!"
"That's a good idea," said Lydia. "Maybe I won't bring a date either. I'll let the firewhisky do the picking for me." The girls laughed again and Lydia and Ava began chatting about just who the firewhisky might pick.
Ginny looked back at herself in the mirror, growing pensive as she imagined who she would have liked to take to the party. Kathleen continued to run the brush through Ginny's hair even after the knot was gone. Ginny closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of the bristles against her scalp.
She hadn't spoken to Harry in weeks now. He had tried, very hard, to talk to her at first, but after a couple of weeks it looked like he had given up. Her heart had ached every time he had walked up to her and she had turned away, but she just wasn't ready to forgive him yet. Ron had pestered her about it a few times, but had finally relented when she had threatened him with a Bat Bogey Hex.
Deep down, she knew that Harry was just trying to protect her, but how could he have so profoundly misjudged her character? How could he think that she would be content to just sit on the sidelines while he, Ron, and Hermione risked their necks to defeat Voldemort? She hadn't accepted his apology in part because she knew his mind hadn't changed. He was apologizing because she was upset, not because he thought his actions were wrong.
"Harry won't be there, you know," Kathleen said quietly enough that the other girls couldn't hear her. Ginny opened her eyes and made eye contact with her friend in the mirror. Kathleen's light blue eyes were kind as they looked at her. "He never goes - Ron and Hermione either. Hermione's too busy studying and Harry and Ron don't like to dance."
Ginny couldn't help but smile as Kathleen repeated words Ginny herself had expressed on several occasions.
"I guess you're right," Ginny said. "Maybe it would be good - get my mind off things. I'm tired of moping around."
"That's the spirit. It'll be fun - and you know the Hufflepuffs. They always throw the best parties. My older sister told me about this one party when she was in her seventh year where someone got so drunk that they tried to kiss the Fat Friar."
Ginny laughed as they reminisced, her heart already feeling lighter. While she enjoyed hanging out with Luna, she had been friends with Kathleen since her first year. They knew all the same inside jokes, liked the same things, and Kathleen had personally threatened to hex Michael Corner after their ugly breakup. She couldn't ask for a better friend.