Harry Potter and the Fifth Year from Hell

Chapter 10 – Malfoy’s Toy Box

“I have a few – ah – items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call . . . .”

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Ch. 4

*  *  *

By Monday, Hermione seemed to be over her girl stuff with Ginny, and was acting completely normally.  Harry tried not to think about what Seamus had said.  Actually, it was pretty easy, as Hermione, like most of the older girls at Hogwarts, kept her robes closed and it was impossible to really see… not that Harry was looking or anything.  If you wanted to make a list like Dean’s and Seamus’s (not that Harry did) the train ride was the best time.  Or something like the Yule Ball, maybe – Harry shook his head and concentrated on listening to Hermione’s happy conversation.  She was always in a good mood on the first day of classes.  Ron seemed quiet and preoccupied.  Maybe he’s nervous about the Quidditch tryouts, Harry thought.

The three of them had classes together all morning.  As they walked into the Great Hall for lunch, Ginny beckoned excitedly for them to join her.  Yep, thought Harry, she’s over that crush thing, for sure.  During her first two years at Hogwarts, Ginny had avoided Harry, and been too shy to say a word whenever she was around him.  Last year she had been better, but Harry hadn’t seen her much.  Now, she seemed to feel no self-consciousness around him at all. Ginny grabbed Ron by the sleeve as they approached and dragged him to the table.  

“Look, Ron, I got a letter from Charlie this morning – hi, Harry, hi, Hermione – he says he’s moving back here!”

Ron bent eagerly over the letter with Ginny.  They were both crazy about their two oldest brothers – Bill, who lived in Egypt, and Charlie, who lived in Romania.  Fred and George came up and both pounded Ron on the shoulder, and then bent over the letter, too.  Apparently Ginny had already shared it with them, but they wanted to look at it again.  Harry and Hermione went around to the other side of the table and ate quietly, enjoying the spectacle of excited Weasleys.

With their four heads together like this, the effect of all that bright red hair was very eye-catching – almost stunning.  Looking around the Hall, Harry saw that several people were looking at the group.  Professor Anne Weasley was talking animatedly with Professor Sprout and didn’t notice, but Professor McGonagall was watching from the head table with a smile.  Over at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy was staring with narrowed eyes, his spoon held motionless over his soup.

Fred and George gave their younger brother and sister one last thump on the back and then sauntered out of the Hall.  Ginny and Ron finally sat down and grinned at Harry and Hermione.  Ginny pushed the letter at Hermione across from her. 

“Here, you can read it if you like.” 

Ron grabbed some food and began eating.  With his mouth full, he told Harry of Charlie’s new project – an attempt to convince some of the overcrowded Hebridean Blacks to move to a more deserted area in the far north of Scotland.  Harry couldn’t imagine how anyone could convince a dragon to relocate, but if anyone could do it, Charlie Weasley could –

Harry looked up with a scowl as a familiar, hated form appeared behind Ron. 

“Weasel family all happy, eh?” drawled Malfoy to Ron.  “You must have told them how Potter’s handing out free brooms.”

Ron stood up and turned to face Malfoy, carefully not clenching his fists in full view of all the teachers at the head table.  Harry realized that neither he nor Hermione could reach Ron across the table to pull him back by his robes as they so often did.  He hoped they wouldn’t need to.

“Get out of here, Malfoy!” growled Ron.  “Nobody invited you to this party.”

Malfoy backed up a step, but continued.  “Too bad you can’t get your famous friend to fly for you at the tryouts, too.  That’s the only way you’ll ever make a Quidditch team.”

“Well it’s better than buying your way –,” snarled Ron.  Then he shook his head and sat back down, shrugging his shoulders as Malfoy made the predictable rejoinder about Ron’s family not being able to buy anything.

Ginny laughed.  “Really, Draco,” she said, “you need to get some new material.  You have SO said that before.”

Malfoy seemed stumped for a moment by this unexpected behaviour, but he recovered himself quickly.   He gave Ginny a cold little nod. 

“I’ll work on it,” he snapped.  Then he strode quickly out of the Hall, with a chin jerk to his flunkies Crabbe and Goyle.  They hurried after him with their hands full of their unfinished meal.

Hermione smiled dazzlingly at Ron and Ginny.  “That was great, you two!  You really surprised him.”

Ginny grinned wickedly.  “Yeah, we’re in such a good mood from Charlie’s letter that we couldn’t get properly mad at that ars... bas… jerk.

Ron caught Harry’s eye across the table, and they had a moment of silent communication.  How’d that git know about Ron trying out for Quidditch and Harry offering him a broom?  Harry hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, and he knew Ron wouldn’t have either.  Is someone spying on us in the Gryffindor common room?  There hadn’t been anyone at all close by.  Harry couldn’t help thinking of Rita Skeeter and her Animagus form, but they hadn’t seen a beetle anywhere around either.

Harry fell into a brown study, letting the conversation of the other three swirl about him unheard.  How could Malfoy have known?  If he can overhear our conversations, what else has he heard?  How long has he been eavesdropping?  Harry shivered as he recalled what he had almost said about how he had got his Firebolt.  What if he had mentioned Sirius?  He could not forget that Draco Malfoy was the son of Lucius Malfoy, and Harry had personally witnessed that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater in the service of Voldemort.  If Malfoy had a way of spying out their secrets, Harry needed to find out right now. 

His mind raced.  If he still had the Marauder’s Map, he could watch Malfoy’s dot and see if any Gryffindors were having secret meetings with him.  But Harry hadn’t seen the Map since he’d lent it to Crouch-disguised-as-Moody last year.  The real Moody might have it now, but Harry wasn’t keen to approach him.  They’d used Polyjuice Potion before to find out information from Malfoy, but that took weeks and weeks to brew.  Of course, he could always use the Invisibility Cloak.

‘Use it well,’ Dumbledore’s note had said.  Harry had never used the cloak to spy on his fellow students or invade anyone’s privacy.  But Malfoy was already invading Harry’s privacy, and someone could die from it.  Harry thought with horror of all the secrets that Ron, Hermione, and he knew and sometimes talked about.  Secrets about Sirius Black, about Snape, about Hagrid, and Remus Lupin…  Harry set his jaw.  He would do it. 

“Hermione, do you still have that timetable of all the teachers’ classes?” 

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny looked surprised at Harry’s sudden interruption, but Hermione nodded and handed the parchment to him.  Harry already knew that the fifth-year Gryffindors, even Hermione, had a free period today after lunch.  It looked like the Slytherins would be free, too.  The only fifth-year class on the timetable was Double Potions with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.  Harry jumped to his feet.

“Umm, got to go, umm, do something,” he said to their astonished faces.  “I’ll tell you about it later,” he muttered in Hermione’s ear, hoping that Ron would understand that he meant him too.  He couldn’t say it out loud, because he had no intention of telling Ginny about it.  He loped out of the Hall and up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower to get his Invisibility Cloak.

Ten minutes later, Harry was in the Entrance Hall, wrapped in the Cloak, and trying to pant as quietly as possible.  It felt strange to be wearing the Cloak in the daytime -- it was something he had seldom done.  It had felt even stranger to pass Ron and Hermione without a word as they made their way back to the common room.  They were talking quietly as they walked and Harry had distinctly heard Hermione say, “I’m sure he’ll tell us when he gets back.” 

Harry snapped to attention as Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and three other Slytherin girls came out of the Hall.  He followed them down the stairs to the Slytherin dungeon.  Getting in proved to be even simpler than Harry had imagined, as the five girls left the door open for some older boys coming up the hall behind them.  Harry shrunk against the wall close to the door and looked around him.  The common room was just as he remembered it from his visit three years before. 

The Slytherin girls, much like Gryffindor girls, took their bags straight to their rooms to comb their hair – or whatever girls did when they disappeared into their rooms.  The boys, much like Gryffindor boys, flung their belongings down on the floor or on the furniture and jostled to claim the most comfortable places to sit.  In fact, Harry noticed, all the Slytherins were acting surprisingly much like actual human beings.  Malfoy was standing in front of the fireplace with his back to the flames, telling some sort of story to Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise Zabini, and some fourth-year boys.  They all looked relaxed, and Malfoy was smiling in a reasonably normal, non-Malfoy kind of way.  Harry was willing to bet he wasn’t recounting his recent conversation with Ron and Ginny.  He strained his ears to listen.

“… mermaids.” said Malfoy.  “And I’ll tell you, they didn’t look anything like the ones in our lake!”

One of the boys asked something that Harry didn’t hear, and they all laughed. 

“Of course, you idiot.  What would be the point of mentioning it, otherwise?” Malfoy replied in his usual supercilious manner.  “Anyway, that was all, except some dolphins and stuff.  I was doing most of the steering on the way back to port.  The captain said I have a real gift.”

The warning bell for the first afternoon class sounded, and most of the people in the common room gathered up their things and left.  Soon only the fifth-years remained.  Malfoy suddenly pushed away from the mantelpiece and headed for an opening that must lead to the boys’ dormitories.  Crabbe and Goyle started to rise, but he waved them back down into their seats.

Just like a couple of dogs, thought Harry scornfully as he followed Malfoy as quietly and quickly as he could.  He was just in time to see Malfoy disappear into a room and shut the door with a snap.  Harry hovered uncertainly outside the door.  He bent over and looked through the keyhole – he could see some four-poster beds with green hangings, but no sign of Malfoy or anyone else.  Harry took a deep breath.  I’m just going to have to risk it, he thought.  As quietly as he was capable of, he opened the door, slipped inside, and closed it again.

Malfoy didn’t notice.  He was at the other end of the long room, looking intently into a mirrored wardrobe door and combing his sleek blond hair.  Harry remembered what he’d been thinking about the girls, and had to suppress a snicker.  What a wanker – reminds me of Lockhart.  He looked around the room with great interest.  Rather than being circular like the Gryffindor rooms, the Slytherin dormitory was long and rectangular, with five beds lined up against the outer wall.  Light came into the room from flat-arched windows high up under the ceiling covered with delicate stone tracery.  On this bright September day, the room was reasonably pleasant.  There was a fireplace, but no fire.

Malfoy seemed to have the last bed, furthest from the door.  His area was very neat, much tidier than the rest of the room, and substantially more so than Harry’s and Ron’s areas in Gryffindor.  Malfoy took two books from his bag and tossed them on his bed, and then he put the bag into the wardrobe and closed the door.  He partly closed the curtain on his bed, leaving it open only on the side next to the wall.  Then he pulled his wand out of his robe pocket, took a few steps toward the room door and said a locking spell – Harry barely jumped out of the way in time.

Quietly, hardly daring to breath, Harry followed the other boy into the space on the other side of the bed.  Malfoy knelt by the bed and pulled out a low trunk.  It was a perfect match for the handsome green and silver trunk at the foot of Malfoy’s bed, but only about a third as tall.  Malfoy unlocked it with a key that he pulled out of his trouser pocket, then pointed his wand and whispered an opening charm that Harry could not quite hear and pulled the top open.

Harry could not resist coming nearer to get a look inside.  The contents were fascinating.  Harry saw three or four very fancy wooden and painted boxes, in various sizes, a long silver unicorn’s horn, a coiled-up length of rope, two books (the top one was Apparition for Beginners), and – Harry was forced to stifle a gasp – an Invisibility Cloak just like his own. 

Malfoy pulled out the largest of the boxes and shut the trunk up again, sliding it back neatly under the bed.  He opened the box and pulled out a globe, some sort of crystal ball very similar to Neville’s Remembrall, but bigger – about the size of a Bludger.  It was filled with moving yellowish-grey smoke and included an ornate gold base at the bottom.  Malfoy set this globe on the table beside his bed.  He poured out a glass of water from a pitcher, opened a box of homemade biscuits from the table, and settled himself comfortably against the headboard of the bed.  Then he tapped lightly on the globe with his wand and said “Oculo Revelo.”

Slowly the smoke in the ball disappeared and a clear picture emerged.  Sounds could be heard, distant yet very clear.  Harry recognized the rich crimson colours – he was looking at the Gryffindor common room.  Irresistibly impelled, Harry drew closer, having to stifle another gasp.  The scene was focused above their table in the common room, the one he, Ron, and Hermione invariably used, and Ron and Hermione were seated to either side of it.  The picture was so clear Harry could make out the words on their books.  Ron and Hermione were both reading their Transfiguration textbooks, an assignment for their three o’clock class that McGonagall had given them only that morning.  Malfoy sat back against the headboard and opened a book – the same Transfiguration text, Harry noticed – and read quietly, ignoring the scene.  Harry wondered if he should try to read over Malfoy’s shoulder.  He would be in that three o’clock class, too.  Or… if he squinted, he could read Ron’s or Hermione’s book.

Harry felt a wave of anger wash over him.  How dare Malfoy do this?  Who did he think he was, to spy on Harry’s best friends?

Malfoy looked up swiftly at a movement and noise in the ball.  Dean and Seamus came clattering down the boys’ steps and passed by on their way out the portrait door.  Malfoy looked back to his book.  As far as Harry could tell, no one was in the common room besides Hermione and Ron.  There was a tapping sound inside the globe – an owl outside the window where Ron and Hermione were.  Ron opened the window and the owl flew in and dropped a note in Hermione’s hand.  It perched on a chair back, seemingly waiting for an answer.  Malfoy peered closely into the globe, reading the note as Hermione opened it.  Harry had to draw back a little.  He could smell Malfoy’s expensive shampoo.  Harry had been running and sweating – he drew back a little more.

Malfoy continued to peer intently into the globe, like a greedy child stooping over a bowl of food.  Dudley, for instance.  Harry had to crane his neck to see around him.  Ron had his arms crossed now, one finger tapping impatiently against his upper arm.

“Well?” he said coldly.

Hermione looked up from the parchment with a little blush.  “Ron, it’s private.”  She scribbled something on the bottom of the note and Malfoy lurched forward to peer at it.  As he sat back, Harry saw Hermione give the note back to the owl and it flew out the window again.  Ron watched it with furious narrowed eyes.

“Was that from Krum?” he asked, his voice tense.

“No.”  Hermione sighed and looked up from her book.  “If you must know, that was Terry Boot, from my Arithmancy class.  He wanted to know if I would study with him tonight in the library.”

“Is he from Ravenclaw?”

“Yes.”

“Weedy little guy with light hair and spots?”

Malfoy grinned and leaned back with his arms behind his head, obviously ready to enjoy the Ron-and-Hermione bickering show.  He’s probably seen it before, Harry thought sourly.  As had Harry.  As had everyone in Gryffindor.  Harry stifled a sigh.

“That’s not exactly how I would describe him,” answered Hermione stiffly.

“Why would you need to study on the first day of classes?  You haven’t even HAD Arithmancy yet.”  Ron was starting to get loud.

“Because Professor Vector always gives us a test on our first day – to see if we’ve done our summer work.”  Hermione’s voice was rising, too.

“And this little dirt ball wants to pick your brain, eh?”

“Ron, he’s the second-best student in the class…”

“After you, of course!”

“Well… yes… so it makes sense for us to study toge…”

“And you really think that’s all he’s after?  You think he’s just interested in studying?”

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at Ron.  “Well, I’ll find out tonight, won’t I?”

Ron leaned forward and glared back.  “It’s not on.  Tell him NO.”

“I already told him yes.”

“WRITE HIM BACK AND TELL HIM NO.”

Hermione slumped back in her chair and stared at Ron’s red face.  She uncrossed her arms and held her head as if her brains were about to boil out.  She seemed to be thinking about what to say.

After a moment, she said, “Ron, what’s going on here?”

He thrust out his jaw.  “Nothing.  You shouldn’t be messing around with a git like that.”

“You don’t even know him… No, okay, wait.”  Hermione held up her hand as Ron opened his mouth to retort.  “I shouldn’t be “messing around” with Terry.  I understand.  And of course, not with Viktor Krum, either.”

Ron leaned back in his seat with his arms still crossed.  “That’s right.”

Hermione’s face was intent now – the look she had when she was deeply involved in fascinating schoolwork.  Ron squirmed a little in his chair but faced her pugnaciously.

“Okay, Ron.  I’m a teenaged girl here.  I’m fifteen years old.  What if I was interested in messing around with boys?  Would there be something wrong with that?”

Malfoy was watching with fascinated attention.  Harry was watching with fascinated attention.  Malfoy shouldn’t be watching this, thought Harry suddenly.  I shouldn’t be watching this.  This is private.  But it is – interesting.

Ron cleared his throat.  “Of course not.”

Hermione pinned him with an intent look.  “But you always get angry.”

“Only because – because you pick such losers, that’s all.”

Hermione rubbed her forehead and took a deep breath.

“Okay, Viktor’s out, right?”

Ron nodded sharply.

“And Terry’s out?”

Another nod.

“Who then?”

Ron looked blank.

“Who could I pick to mess around with, and you wouldn’t get mad?”

Ron made a little movement and looked desperately around the room.  Harry half expected him to rise and flee from Hermione’s inquisition, but Ron set his jaw and stayed seated.  “Well, anyone, you know – I mean anyone decent – ”

Hermione raised her eyebrows, with a little smile.

“Neville?”

Ron snorted rudely and rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’” Hermione said coolly.  “Seamus?  Dean?”

Ron sat up straight with a huge scowl.  “NO!  Absolutely not!” 

Harry scowled too.  Absolutely not!

Hermione looked a little surprised at Ron’s vehemence.  “Okay…  All right, how about George?”

Ron went scarlet.  “NO!”

“I’ll presume that goes for Fred, too?”

A very vigorous nod.

“Okay – Lee Jordan?”

Ron shifted a little in his chair, possibly trying to think of something discreditable about Lee.  Then he stuck out his chin.

“No.”

“I’m guessing Draco Malfoy is right out?” Hermione said lightly. 

Ron glared.  “I’m not even going to answer that,” he growled.

Harry glanced quickly at Malfoy to see his reaction to this.  Malfoy raised his eyebrows and twisted his mouth.  He didn’t seem either angry or pleased.

Hermione leaned forward, eyes narrowing.  She was going for the kill now. 

“Okay, what about Harry?”

Harry jumped back involuntarily.  He was afraid he’d made a noise, but Malfoy didn’t seem to have noticed.  He was leaning forward, his expression much the same as Hermione’s.  Harry held his breath to see what Ron would say.

Ron frowned and looked away.  He didn’t say anything.

“Well?”  Hermione leaned even further forward.  Ron leaned even further backward.  He even scooted his chair back a little bit.

“Umm, I suppose that would be okay.  I mean… if you wanted to, and he wanted to – I suppose that would be okay.”  Ron was still looking away from Hermione’s intent face.

Hermione leaned her chin on her two hands.  “Is that it?  Just Harry?  Is there anyone else I have to choose from without you getting all – huffy?”

Ron didn’t answer.

“Because honestly, Ron, I don’t think Harry is interested in me like that, and I…” Hermione broke off.  “So, it’s Harry or nothing until I’m 18 years old then?”  Ron frowned.

“I didn’t say that.”

“What then?”

“Just that Harry’s the only one out of the blokes you named.”  Ron waved his right hand vaguely in the air.  “The only one who’s all right, I mean.  That’s all.”

“Okay, Ron, you name one then.  Who else?”

Silence.

“Come on, name me one more person in this school that I could go out with and you wouldn’t get your knickers all in a twist!”

Malfoy snorted.  Someone knocked on the Slytherin dormitory door, but Malfoy didn’t even look up.  The someone walked away with heavy steps.  Meanwhile, Ron didn’t say anything.  Hermione’s face was getting red.

“Just name one – you can’t!”

“YES I CAN!”

“Okay, DO IT!”

“Okay… okay…” Ron rubbed his face with both hands then crossed his arms again.  His face was as red as his hair.  Finally he whispered in a voice Malfoy and Harry had to lean forward to catch, “Okay… me.”

Hermione stared at Ron with her mouth open.  Harry stared with his mouth open.  He didn’t look to see what Malfoy was doing -- he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the globe.  Ron flushed even redder (which was impossible) and stared defiantly back at Hermione.

Hermione looked down at her hands.  Harry thought she looked flustered, flabbergasted.  He would have sworn that this was the answer she was going for in her cross-examination, but now that she had gotten it, she seemed at a loss on how to proceed.  Then she appeared to pull herself together and took a deep breath.

“You?”

Ron put up his chin.  “Me.”

“You wouldn’t get mad if it was you I was, umm, interested in?”

“That’s right.  I would be okay.”

Hermione shook her head as if to clear it.  “Is that all?”

“What?”

“You – are you the only one?  My only choice besides Harry?”

Ron looked flustered now.  “Umm, no, there might be some others that… I DON’T KNOW, Hermione!”

Hermione looked up from her hands at Ron.  She seemed to have lost the rhythm of her interrogation.

“Are you even…?  Do you…  Do you even think of me that way?”

Harry leaned forward.  This was… this was incredible!  What would Ron say?

Ron didn’t answer.  Hermione broke off eye contact and gazed all around the room, biting her lip.  She looked like she wanted to run away now, but she didn’t move.

Finally, Ron spoke.  It was an indecipherable gargle.  He cleared his throat, crossed his arms tighter, and spoke again.

“Maybe.”

Harry was impressed.  This was more than he had expected Ron to admit.

Hermione glanced just for a second at Ron’s face and then looked down at her hands tightly clenched in her lap.  “Oh,” she said.

A silence stretched out.  Harry didn’t move or breathe.  Hermione kept her face down.  Finally Ron broke it.

“Well?”

“What?”  Hermione didn’t look up.

“Hermione!”  It was an exasperated yelp.  Ron threw his hands in the air.  “Do you –?  Aren’t you going to say –?”  Ron drummed his fingers on the table and tried again.  “Umm, would you ever be interested in me, uh, like that?”

Hermione looked up at Ron again.  She looked more angry than anything.  “Maybe.”

“Oh.”  It was Ron’s turn to look down.

All right,thought Harry, I wasn’t sure, but I suppose she does...  OK, I thought so.  What now?

Ron and Hermione didn’t seem to know, either.  There was another silence.  Hermione closed her Transfiguration book and stood, grabbing her book bag.

“Umm, I’ll just… umm, go up to my room now.”  She backed away, and then turned and scurried up the spiral steps without looking back.  Ron made no move to stop her.  He stared after her until she disappeared, then looked down at his Transfiguration book with his head resting on two fists at his temples.  His face was completely hidden, but the tips of his ears were bright red.  It didn’t seem that he would be turning a page any time soon.

Harry realized he was standing too close to Malfoy.  Carefully, he backed away a few steps.  He had a strange urge to exchange glances with Malfoy about the scene they had just witnessed, but of course Malfoy couldn’t see him.  The Slytherin boy ate a biscuit, staring thoughtfully into space.  Harry wondered what nasty plans he might be formulating to torment them all.

They both turned back to the ball with a start at a sudden sound in it.  It was Dean and Seamus, coming back in through the portrait door.  Seamus was flushed and sweaty, and Dean was tossing a Muggle football up and down and grinning.

“I finally got Seamus to try football, and he really likes it,” Dean said to Ron.  “You should come with us next time, Weasley, and try it.”

Ron didn’t look up or speak.  After waiting a moment, Dean and Seamus shrugged at each other and continued on up the stairs.

“Mental he’s been, lately,” Seamus voice could be heard drifting down the stairs.

Just then, there was another knock at Malfoy’s room door.  Harry heard a voice he thought was Blaise Zabini’s.

“Hey, Malfoy, how about letting us in?  Any time now will do.  We’ve got a class.”

Malfoy didn’t answer, but he looked up and let a flicker of irritation cross his face.  After considering for a moment, he got his wand and tapped the glass globe.

“Oculo Obscuro,” he said.  Yellowish smoke replaced the view of the Gryffindor common room.  Malfoy pulled out his trunk, removed the wooden box, and placed the globe carefully inside it, before strolling to the door with a slowness that made Harry want to give him a good kick.

Arrogant son of a…  Harry froze, staring from Malfoy to the fancy wooden box on the bed.  Quickly, without giving himself time to think, Harry acted.  He opened the box, pulled the glass globe under his Cloak, closed the box quietly, and was halfway across the room before Malfoy had even made it to the door.  When Malfoy finally opened the door, Zabini pushed in, cursing under his breath.  Harry slipped out behind Zabini, swerved quickly to avoid Crabbe and Goyle, who were waiting patiently behind Zabini, and ran as if the hounds of Hell were after him.  He was across the Slytherin common room and out the stone door before Malfoy could have even made it back to his bed.

Harry pelted up the stairs toward the Entrance Hall, his heart beating crazily.  Okay, okay, I’ve done it.  Now I’m a thief.  Well, better to be a thief than to keep letting that slimy Malfoy spy on Ron’s and Hermione’s private conversations.  What do I do now?  Harry looked at his watch.  He was due in Transfiguration in less than fifteen minutes.  He needed to do something with the ball thing.  He was the first person Malfoy would suspect of stealing it.  It was even possible the ball had some kind of Locator spell on it so Malfoy would be able to come after it.  Harry definitely didn’t want to be found with it.

Without instructions, Harry’s feet were taking him toward Gryffindor Tower as his thoughts raced.  Hide it in the tunnel under the hump-backed witch?  No, I can’t let Malfoy know about the secret tunnel to Hogsmeade if this thing has a Locator spell.  Harry’s feet slowed as he thought of the perfect place, and he dashed into a fourth-floor corridor.  The collapsed tunnel behind the mirror – it doesn’t matter if Malfoy finds out about that one!  Harry halted, panting.  What was the password from the Marauder’s Map again?  Oh, yes…

“Curiouser and curiouser,” gasped Harry.  The secret door opened with a quiet click, and Harry slipped the ball inside and closed it again.  He jumped as a group of students came around the corner toward him.  It’s a good thing I’m invisible, he thought.  This hallway was much too public a place for a secret tunnel entrance.

Finally free of his stolen property, Harry was able to calm down and think.  He had time to go to the common room and get his book bag if he hurried – and he could see what Ron and Hermione were doing.  Harry ran.

*  *  *

Next Chapter: The Revealall

A restful chapter in which Harry, Ron, and Hermione sort out the implications of various new developments.