The Mists of Memory

'Where are you going, my child?' the witch asked, grinning.

Ginny could see her teeth, yellow and spotted with black, under her hooked nose. She turned in Draco's direction and noticed that he was staring around, without paying any attention to her. After few seconds, she was surrounded by two more witches and four wizards, all of whom weren't a pretty sight to behold.

'Baby, wha' d'yeh think ter go fer a ride?'

'Did yeh get lost?'

'D'yeh wan' we help yeh ter fin' yer way back?' they asked, smiling at her in the most disgusting way she could've ever imagined.

She fought not to start panicking; even if her throat hurt from the effort of biting back her scream, she knew that it was useless. She stammered some words of excuse, starting to sweat hard.

'Ginny, let's go,' said Draco, holding her arm and glaring at the people nearby with a look of disgust. When the group saw him, their eyes widened and they moved away, bowing and creating a way for the two to leave. Ginny didn't understood why, until she glanced at Draco for a moment—he wore his cloak the other way around, and now the Malfoy's badge stood out on his chest, in full view.

'This is one of the rare places where my name still commands a certain respect,' he said, noticing the direction of her glance.

'Where are we?' asked Ginny, looking around suspiciously. They were walking through a dirty street, and were just passed in front of a shop which showed, inside its windows, a large collection of big and dangerous-looking spiders. Ginny shuddered, thinking how much such a sight would scare Ron. She didn't like spiders, either, but her brother was second to no one in his fear of them.

'Knockturn Alley,' replied Draco, quickening his pace. Ginny tried her best to stay close to him—she didn't have any intention to lose sight, with him just there.

'What are we doing in a place with such a bad reputation?'

'You'll see it shortly, we're just arrived. What d'you want to do, stay outside or come in?' Draco drawled, an amused grin spreading all over his face. The signs of the shop, in front of which they had just stopped, showed it to be called Borgin & Burkes; inside it, Ginny could distinguish various objects, none of which she was very pleased to see. Anyway, the crowd around her was much worse... so she followed Draco inside.

The place was exactly as Draco remembered. As always, there were poisons, dark and prohibited artefacts, and stuff that no other seller would've ever even wanted to keep hidden, displayed around the shop. There were skulls, human bones, strange amphorae with eyes and precious stones inside, and other stuff coming from many countries. Everything was hidden in the shadows, but even in this light, Ginny was deeply aghast by what she was seeing. Draco smirked at her disgusted frowns and approached the counter, ringing a little bell which was upon it. Ginny jerked at the sound.

'Ginny, do not touch anything,' Draco hissed, when somebody from the back of the shop muttered that he was coming. Ginny sent Draco a disgusted look, which obviously meant that she would've never touched any of this stuff, even if he had forced her to.

'Let's see... who do we have here... oh! Young Master Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again. Of course, I never did trust the stories that the Ministry of Magic had told about you... disgraceful stories, indeed—' From the back of the shop appeared an old man, with oily black hair, peppered with grey. He walked a little crooked, and rubbed his hands as he observed his new customers, a sadistic look spreading across his face. Ginny found the way he drawled his words quite annoying, as he pretended a servile flattery which he appeared not to feel.

'Which one d'you mean? The one about my death or the one about my soul being eaten by a Dementor?' snapped Draco, dryly. Ginny watched him as he talked with Mr. Borgin, and noticed that Draco was acting different. Maybe he was, unconsciously or willingly, playing Lucius' role, mimicking his way of acting and of talking.

'Exactly, Master Malfoy. But I can see, with pleasure, that, as I've supposed, they were only stories. How may I be of assistance?' The man placed emphasis on the word "pleasure" in a way that disgusted Ginny. She wanted to be out this shop as soon as possible. Still, she couldn't go away by herself—she needed Draco, because she was too much frightened of the crowd. So, she forced herself to stay.

'I'm not buying, but selling, Mr. Borgin. These.' Draco took, from the pocket of his robe, the three objects that Ginny had seen him withdraw from the vault at Gringotts. The man's face lost all of his servile flattery at Draco's words, but when he saw what the boy put into his hands, his eyes glimmered in joy.

'Oh... what a magnificent offer, Master Malfoy. Your father never brought to me items of this sort. He sold to me quite impressive objects, though... and he also bought many.'

'How much d'you reckon these would be worth of?' asked Draco, casually. He didn't really want to sell his mother's earrings and favourite ring. He knew that they were very precious, and he'd never sell them to anybody. However, he did need something to divert Mr. Borgin's attention.

'They are priceless; extremely ancient, and completely made with gold. And... look at those enchanted stones...' the man said, almost awed. Then he eyed at Draco, made some distance between himself and the jewels, and continued, 'I cannot buy them, I know that your father would never allow them to be sold. However, master Malfoy... I have a few things you may be interested in buying, at a very reasonable price—'

The man took from under his counter a tray—it clearly contained poisons, it was obvious by the stamp across the top of it. Mr. Borgin opened it in front of Draco's nose, who gazed at the content feigning interest. He knew that the old wizard didn't want to buy the objects because they were obviously too dangerous to be kept. His reluctance was surely not from a pretend "respect" for his father... What a tosser, Draco thought.

'I think I'll buy this datura's essence,' he said, while staring at the various bottles. Ginny gasped, hearing Draco's words. What use could he have for datura's essence? 'Err... tell me, Mr. Borgin... d'you know anything about the Green Torch?' asked Draco, casually checking the content of another bottle. Mr. Borgin's eyes got widened and he stared at the boy, his face aghast.

'The Green Torch... I'd love to put my hands on it, Master Malfoy. It's yet another priceless object, like the jewels you showed me before. The only thing which can destroy the Dark Lord.'

'Yes, Potter used it with this intention. But it didn't work, because he came back, after all. So... how can a useless thing be priceless?' retorted Draco. The man stared at him in amazement; then, his face came closer to Draco's as he hissed back, under his breath,

'Harry Potter didn't use the true Green Torch, Mr. Malfoy. The true Torch is the priceless object, not its copies. They have only a temporary effect.' His face turned positively ashen as he said that. Ginny tried to hear what he was muttering, but he talked in such a slow and low monotone that it was hard for her to understand. Draco was the only person who could really hear what the man had said, but he didn't react at all.

'Precisely what I wanted to know. So, is there really a way of finding it, or of buying it?' Draco asked, staring at Mr. Borgin with interested eyes. He stretched his fingers and joined his fingertips, tapping them together unconsciously. 'You know, my father loved this kind of stuff, he had a very large collection of objects which the Dark Lord had owned. I'd love to complete it with this Torch so that it won't be found by—ah—unworthy people, if you know what I mean.' He kept staring at the man as he spoke. Mr. Borgin seemed to freeze.

'If I've owned that object, or if I would've known where to find it, I wouldn't surely be here, Master Malfoy. I would've brought the Green Torch to the Dark Lord, and by now I would've been honoured and feted as the person who gave him immortality. Nobody can collect the Green Torch, Master Malfoy, not even yourself.'

'That's exactly the reason why I want it. Thank you for the information, how much is the datura's essence?' Draco's eyes looked down to observe the small bottle he was juggling. He paid the two galleons and fifteen sickles Mr. Borgin requested and then walked out the shop, beckoning Ginny to follow. As they moved out of Mr. Borgin's sight, Draco again took hold of Ginny's arm and forced her to stay close to him while they left Knockturn Alley.

'Thank you, Malfoy,' she said, waiting for him to turn his cloak to the reverse side.

'Thank you for what?' he asked, pretending to be surprised.

'You know what. Thank you for asking for information about the Torch. What did he say?' Draco sent her an unreadable glance, as he put his hat back on his head.

'Nothing very interesting. He said that Potter didn't use the true Green Torch. I wanted him to say more, actually,' he confessed, walking straight to Ollivander’s.

'I never would've thought that you'd really try to help us,' she said, and stared distantly into a shop-window as she spoke. Draco held her arm tightly, forcing her to turn in his direction and look at him. Ginny's heart sank—she never would've suspected a reaction of that sort.

'Potter—saved—my—bloody—life, Ginny.' He stared at her for a long moment, with the most serious look she ever saw on his face. Then he let go of her and walked away.

Ginny remained silent until they came to Ollivander's shop, musing about what Draco had just said. I didn't really trust him. When I saw him lying in the couch I thought Harry did a big mistake. But... I'm starting to believe I was wrong, she thought, as she opened the shop's door. A small bell linked to it rang, and a pair of shining eyes stared at her, from behind the counter.

'Let's see, who do we have here?' asked the small wizard, eyeing the girl first, and then the boy. 'Miss Weasley, it's a long time since I last saw you. Besides... if I’m not wrong, this is Mr. Malfoy. Seems like the stories I've heard about you were false.' The old wizard gave them both a nod, waiting for them to approach. 'How may I help you?'

'I need to clean my wand. I've waited too long, I know. But I didn't have the chance to come here earlier, you know, Mr. Ollivander...' The man nodded yes, and Ginny continued, 'so, I had to wait. But today I had other errands...' She took her wand out her robe's pocket and tossed it to the wizard.

Ollivander scanned the thin wood with critical eyes, checking all the details for a long moment. After various minutes of staring at it, he looked up at Ginny, looking very disappointed.

'Miss Weasley,' he muttered abruptly, 'your wand is so dirty that it's almost not worthy any more of being called that. You should have come here a long time ago... ' He sighed, mournful. 'What a pity. Such a beautiful wand. Birch, ten inches, single unicorn hair core. I remember having made it as if it were yesterday. A wonderful wand, with such a pure core, perfect for Charms. And you reduce it in such a state!'

The man kept staring at the wand, somehow sad. His voice was hoarse with suffering, and he shook his head, as if he were speaking about a disgrace which happened to one of his children. Hearing his speech, Draco tried to hide himself and started staring in the opposite direction. If Ginny's wand needed to be cleaned... what would be said of his? It would be better if he never showed it to Ollivander...

'Please, forgive me, Mr. Ollivander—' Ginny said, her ears turning pink as she lowered her head, ashamed.

'Don't grimace like that, miss. A person like yourself, who lives close to Harry Potter, should take better care of her magical objects. What if a Death Eater attacked you, and your wand was too much dirty to work properly? And... as for you, Mr. Malfoy...' Draco gasped when the man told his name. Ollivander was glaring at him with his bright big eyes, and he seemed to almost look into the deepest part of his soul and only find something horrible and disgusting. Draco gulped. 'Please don't hide yourself like that, I can see you. Give me your wand. Since you're here, I'll clean it up as well.' The man showed a hand to Draco, imperiously beckoning him to let go of it.

'There's no need, really, Mr Ollivander—' he tried to say, but the old wizard sent him such an icy glare that Draco had to give up. His heart bled when his hand reached into his pocket, knowing exactly what the old wizard would say after having a look at his wand.

When Ollivander finally put his hands on the thin wood, the pain which showed his eyes would've roused a criminal. He stared at the wand, his glasses pushed up on his nose, moving it in his hands and sighing a lot of times as he examined it. He continued studying it for various minutes, and then he glared, once again, at Draco.

'I'd never have expected this, Mr. Malfoy. I understand that, in your conditions, it's not easy to come here. I understand that it may have cost you dearly, even being captured. However... I never, ever saw, in my whole life, a willow wand turning entirely and utterly B-L-A-C-K!' He spat out that "black" as if he were talking about an homicide, his face turning purple and his eyes going wide, as he stared into Draco's face.

Draco closed his eyes and gasped, trying to hide his face with his hands, as if Ollivander had hit him; he felt blood rush to his face, as he noticed the way Ginny was staring at him. His face turned pink and he lowered his eyes.

'Err... I...but...' he muttered. For once, he didn't know what to say.

'No buts! In your condition you should've had to take more care of your only weapon, Mr. Malfoy! Your wand is so filthy now; I wouldn't be surprised if it just stopped working, all of sudden! Tell me, what would've you done if, when you were in danger, your wand wouldn't work! BE ASHAMED!' He slammed a hand on his counter, to emphasise his last words, and, again, he glared at Draco with his deadly bright eyes.

Draco didn't need him to point out anything, though—he never had been so humiliated in his whole life. Not even when Potter saved his arse few days ago. Not even when his father glared at him.

Ollivander sent him yet another severe look, and then he went to the back of the shop, to give the wands to his assistants. When he returned, few minutes later, he didn't seem to have lost his rigorous frown, which he was still bestowing upon Draco. Anyway, he turned to the girl and his face gained a more pleasant look.

'Miss Weasley, please return in an hour and a half, your wand should be ready by then.' He rubbed his hands, trying to make Ginny feel more comfortable. Then, he turned another time to Draco, and his stare changed straight away into a glare.

'As for you, Mr. Malfoy; your wand will be ready in two days,' he hissed. Draco's eyes went wide for the shock hearing the news, his pale face turning even paler, 'And I won't accept any reason! My assistants will need a lot of work in order to fix it decently. It's nothing you may fix in few minutes!' he shouted.

Then, Ollivander went back to the back of the shop. Draco was shaking in rage and mortification, clenching his fists and glaring with hatred at the door which the old wizard just disappeared through.

Their trip back home was very silent, and tense. Draco couldn't still talk, after the bad figure he had cut at Ollivander's; Ginny didn't know what to say—sometimes not saying anything is better than saying false words, her mother often said. Moreover... in part because of the fact he didn't talk at all, Malfoy didn't seem that mad.

Then, a small girl had the bright idea of bumping into Draco, while mimicking a spell with a friend. Draco pushed her away harshly and she fell to the ground, starting to sniff as if she was about to cry. Ginny looked at Draco horrified; they didn't need a crying child to draw people's attention into them! Draco lost his temper; he approached the child and grabbed her jumper. He glared at her, frowning, his blue-grey eyes filled with hatred. The child froze and stared at him, scared to death.

'Beg my pardon,' he hissed into the child's ear. The small girl grew paler than before and stammered nonsense words, mixed with groans of pain. Draco stayed there, glaring at the child for a long moment, until Ginny approached him and put a hand to his shoulder, trying to make him relent. But as Draco tossed her hand away and glared at her, Ginny stopped dead and the words she would've said died in her throat; his eyes were... creepy.

In exactly the same manner than he got angry, Draco suddenly calmed down. He let go of the child and, after having given her with another icy glare, he turned to leave. The child stared at nothing for a while, her face still as pale as a sheet from fear. Then she stood up, crawling, and ran away. Ginny followed Draco, trying to not get too far away from him.

'Did you go nuts? Why did you treat that child in this way, in the middle of Diagon Alley? Didn't we have to try not to be seen?' she asked when she finally caught up. Draco kicked angrily a cobble-stone that happened to be in front of his right foot. Then he turned towards Ginny; his eyes seemed to be more human than before, but he was still utterly annoyed.

'I didn't do anything to that child. She bumped into me and brought that upon herself,' he said, curtly. Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed.

'You're not made of crystal, after all. She didn't do it on purpose! Did you really have to scare her like that?' Draco sent her a look which didn't necessitate any explanations. Then, he quickened his pace until they arrived in front of the wall dividing Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron.

Draco's hand went to his pocket, to take out his wand, but that pocket was empty. He clenched his fists and shook them with rage, his gaze continuing to harden. Ginny took out her wand and touched the stones with it, allowing them to leave.

It didn't take a lot of time to get back to the fire, and even less to use the Floo powder and go back to the abandoned house which Remus had connected to the Floo Network for them this time—they always had to use a different house if they didn't want someone to get suspicious, and poor Remus had always to organise things for them, changing the fire connected to the Network every few days.

Ginny once again cleaned the soot from Draco's face, and then she spent a bit of time cleaning herself, as the boy tossed the soot from his own clothes.

'Malfoy, really; your wand was a mess,' she commented, as they walked through London's streets, surrounded by the shadows of the evening. It already was evening... Time really passes quickly as you go out for errands, Ginny thought. Draco stopped dead and turned to look at her. She stopped as well and drew backwards; somehow frightened that he would act in the same way he did in Diagon Alley. But Draco resumed his walk almost immediately, without saying a word.

'I know,' he muttered, finally, when they arrived in front of the Hotel's door. They looked to the right and the left, to be sure that nobody saw them, and then quickly opened the door and went into the building.

There was a big confusion in the hall of the hotel and nobody seemed to notice that they were back. It seemed like someone was very busy in walking up and down the corridor.

'Oh, you're back, finally,' said Hermione. They saw her stopping in front of them; she was carrying a basin filled with water. She put it on a piece of furniture, opening and closing her hands quickly to restart the blood circulation.

'I have no time to explain everything to you. Remus is hurt,' she said and then picked up the basin again, and resumed her walk to the room beside the kitchen. Draco and Ginny stared at the door where she had just disappeared, their eyes wide in shock.

'He didn't look hurt, few hours ago—' Draco muttered under his breath.

Ginny was the first one to come out of her shocked state and walk into the kitchen, curious to know what had happened. Draco followed her.

Lupin was laid down on the couch which Draco had been sleeping on, recently. He was bleeding a lot from a wound on his back... perhaps it had been inflicted with something blunt. What could've happened to him to reduce him in such a state, in so few hours?

'Oh, you're back. Good, we needed help,' said Sirius, giving them an agitated glance. He was working with his wand on Lupin's back, trying to fix the wound; Hermione was very busy preparing a Potion.

'Is there any way I can help you?' asked Ginny.

Draco stayed still, instead. He didn't know what to do; besides, Lupin was lying on his bed... spotting it with blood, and this really made him upset.

'Yes, thank you Gin. Come here and toss me that lamb,' said Hermione, throwing into the cauldron what Draco recognized as flobberworm juice. Ginny hurried up to help Hermione, and the latter sent her a thankful glance, as she reduced the meat Ginny just tossed to her into very small pieces. Then, she started to throw it into the cauldron, at a slow pace. Sweat drops fell from her forehead, down to her temples and her cheeks. Ginny decided to help her mix the potion, which left Hermione with more room to concentrate on the meat.

'What are you doing?' drawled Draco, baffled. Hermione didn't even look at him,

'I'm preparing the Wolfsbane's Potion. You know... like the one Professor Snape prepared for Lupin when he was at Hogwarts. Tomorrow's a full moon night,' she retorted dryly, causing Draco's blood to turn into ice.

'Shall we host a Werewolf with the full moon?' he snapped up. Hermione's meat was finished and she cleaned her hands, addressing Draco a piercing glance.

'Look, we also host a Malfoy—' Ron's voice resounded behind their backs. The boy approached Hermione and tossed her a strange package. He seemed to be a bit out of breath and upset. Draco glared at him.

'Weasley, maybe it's too hard to understand for the lot of you, but a werewolf is a dangerous creature,' he hissed. Ron didn't even consider him and approached Hermione.

'The wolfsbane was difficult to find. It's not normal to pick it during the day.'

'Unfortunately we needed it that way. Not only picked during the day, but also picked during the day of a new moon. Did you check that detail, Ron?' she asked, frowning.

Ron nodded yes, so she once again paid attention to Draco, as Ginny mixed the liquid into the cauldron.

'This is why I'm preparing the Potion, Malfoy. If Lupin didn’t drink it very often, he wouldn't be able to stay here, as it would've been too dangerous,' she said. Then, she fastened her attention on her Potion, again, to decide how much wolfsbane she should've used.

'Harry's coming with the unicorn's hair. We split up to go faster,' said Ron, trying to be of some help. Hermione nodded yes, and in fact, a few moments later, Harry arrived carrying another package. Hermione waited few minutes, staring at her watch with concern. Then she added a few unicorn hairs to the Potion and sighed in relief. She wiped her forehead on her sleeve and kept mixing the Potion, now relaxed.

'What happened to him?' asked Ginny now that the most important matter was over. Lupin's wound had healed thanks to Sirius' attempts and now the man was breathing normally. Draco sat on a chair near the kitchen door.

'I've had a fight with McNair; I followed him after leaving the you two. But I didn't expect him to come from behind and he got me.' The man sat on the couch, his pale face steadily gaining colour. Hermione approached him, leaving the Potion boil for a while.

'It will be ready in half an hour, Remus. Is this soon enough? Are we in time?' A thin line knitted her brows, and she was wringing her hands almost frenetically. She looked nervous; perhaps Draco's objection was something she was worried about as well.

'Yes, I drank it this early afternoon and I must drink it every six hours of the day before the full moon. Don't worry, if I ever thought that you were in danger, I'd leave immediately,' he said, staring at Draco. Lupin sent him a serious glance, but didn't look angry, just worried.

'So, there's just one small problem left. Malfoy, Remus must sleep here tonight and tomorrow,' said Sirius, who was sitting next to Lupin, on the couch, and was staring at Draco.

'What's the problem?'

'We need this couch. After all, we were talking the other day, and we've thought that, since you must stay here, you should have your own room.' Draco felt suddenly joyful. His face brightened at these words, but Sirius didn't seem of the same mood.

'A room? That's ok. So, what is the problem?' He would've had a room... after all that time! His room, finally, a bit of privacy. How much did he miss it!

'I must prepare the Potion for Remus. He must drink it frequently tomorrow, you know. It's a new formula which he said is more secure. The others must work in the library. So, since it's your room, it's you who will put it in order,' Hermione said. Joy drained from Draco's face.

'But—' he argued.

'It's just a simple charm, after all. Malfoy, you were better than me for charms at Hogwarts, it should be easy for you... I was able to do it as well!' snapped up Ron, staring at him mockingly. How much Draco would've loved to give him a punch on that ugly face of his... or to hex him somehow, if he'd have his wand.

'Malfoy can't perform charms today, nor tomorrow,' said Ginny. Everybody stared at her, amazed and silent. The dull sound of the Potion boiling was the only thing which marked the slow passing of time.

'Why?' asked Harry, asking for them all.

'Ollivander took his wand to clean it up,' replied Ginny. She noticed that Draco was glaring at her, and supposed that he didn't want her to tell the group about Ollivander's scene. She grinned. 'He has to go and pick it up in two days,' she concluded. Draco sighed in relief, and Ginny's grin became brighter.

'Wow... did you lose it in a marsh?' joked Ron; for once he was the sarcastic one and Malfoy was glaring at him, It would be nice to become used to that, he thought, amused.

'Hold your tongue, Weasel,' Draco retorted, dryly. Ron didn't lose his sarcastic grin, though, and this really pissed Draco off. After all, who would've been scared of him now? He didn't have his wand, he was harmless! Damn at that git of Ollivander who didn't want to give me a wand in replacement! he thought.

'If things are like that—' said Lupin, trying to stand up, but failing miserably. Sirius stopped him and forced him to lie down again.

'No, Remus. You won't move. Even if I fixed your wound, you ought to stay still if you want to heal. You won't move from this couch.' Sirius glanced at him, worried, then stood up and said, as he left, 'I’ve got to wash my hands.' Lupin sighed, but followed Sirius' suggestion; he turned his back to the others and tried to get some sleep.

'In truth, it's not a big problem.' Hermione walked away from where she was and directed straight to a corner of the room. She beckoned Draco to come closer as she looked for something into a built-in wardrobe. 'Come here, Malfoy—'

Draco snorted and stood up from his chair, still annoyed by the situation. As he drew near her, Hermione emerged from the wardrobe, triumphant, and she tossed into his hands a mutton-chop and few loins. Then she took a pail and rested it just in front of Draco's feet, turning to close the door.

Draco stared at her in pure amazement. He wasn't even able to get angry, because of how shocked he was. He blinked two or three times and kept staring, silent.

'A bit of work has never hurt anyone, Malfoy. Come on, you won't need much work to make your room presentable. You can always finish setting it up when you have your wand back.'

Ron barely hid a laugh, Harry had such an idiotic smile stamped on his face that Draco would've loved to kick him in the arse, until he lost it. Hermione crossed her arms and stared at him, annoyed. Not counting Lupin, who was lying down on the couch, with his back to Draco, Ginny was the only person who tried not to stare at him; of course, this wasn't a big help.

'Wh-which room will be his?' Ginny asked, trying to change subject.

'The empty one on the first floor, near the laundry. We decided this today, while you were out. It's the one in the best condition, after all, so it's easier to clean up,' said Harry, finally dropping the idiotic expression.

'Wait a minute, I don’t think I quite understand. You think I, Draco Malfoy, should lower myself to do servant chores? Are you completely and utterly insane, or were you all dropped on your heads as babies?' he spat out, still not trusting his own ears. He glared for a while at the meat loins Hermione had handed him.

'Oh shut up, Malfoy. Follow me,' retorted Hermione, her hands rubbing her temples because of her exasperation. She nodded to Ginny, mutually asking her to keep mixing the potion, and then left, walking straight to the steps to go upstairs. Draco was, yet again, still, and kept staring at the wall in front of him, handling in his right hand the mutton-chop and on the left one the loins.

'MALFOY! D'you want to come here?' Hermione shouted from upstairs. He roared something that sounded like "I'm not your dog!", and stomped his foot, glaring at the door, distressed.

'I’M COMING!' he yelled, dragging his feet as he walked away. When he got to the door, though, he once again heard Hermione's voice,

'Don't forget the pail, please!' she called, causing yet another roar of exasperation. Draco turned around, furious, and grabbed the pail. Then he finally walked out the room and strode quickly to the steps.

Harry and Ron controlled themselves until they heard his footsteps going upstairs, then they were no longer able to stop themselves from laughing. Malfoy taking orders from Hermione was maybe the funniest thing they'd seen, since the bouncing ferret scene in their fourth year.

'It's not nice laughing at other people's problems,' scolded Lupin. This shut them up, but they kept glancing at each other, their amusement evident in their expressions. They are no more than children, still, mused Lupin, half-asleep.

Draco went upstairs, still completely and utterly angry, and approached the door in front of which Hermione was waiting for him. He glared at her with all his hatred and tossed the pail, abruptly, onto the floor, throwing the loins into it with all his strength. He kept glaring at Hermione, but she paid little attention to it.

'I know you're not happy about this, Malfoy. It's annoying, and you're right. However, we cannot lose our time helping you. Come on... a few hours of healthy work never have killed anyone,' she said, trying somehow to console him. Draco's glare hardened, if possible.

'What if I refuse to do it?' he asked. But Hermione didn't move, her arms still crossed over her chest, her eyes still staring at him, her right foot's toe still tapping, nervous.

'You can always sleep on the floor, it's not our problem,' she retorted, causing Draco's face to grow paler than ever.

'I'm a Malfoy. Malfoys don't ever lower themselves to do manual labour!' he spat out, slamming the mutton-chop to the floor. He stood with his hands on his hips, staring at her.

'Malfoys have two arms and two legs, like any other person in the world, I daresay,' she replied, acidly, and eyed him from tip to toe as she spoke. She held her wand and said a charm to fill the pail with a mixture of water and soap. She then unlocked the room's door and let it fall open as she walked away. 'Good job,' she added.

Draco's eyes went wide for the shock and his stomach switched—that room was a real mess.