The Darkest Night

Chapter 9: Midnight Rendezvous

Draco was late, and he knew it. He had meant to take a short rest, a resting of the eyes really. Unfortunately, his 'naps' were usually three hour- long siestas, and at the most inopportune times at that.

So he ran, as silently as his feet could carry him, to Gryffindor Tower. He had a pretty good idea of where it was located, and if he could get to Potter and Weasley in time, he could follow them to the location of the secret passage.

It had been more difficult than usual to leave the dorms. Crabbe and Goyle hadn't been a problem. They had each been very busy. Goyle had been watching a water stain on the dungeon floor with interest. Crabbe, the smarter of the two, had been attempting to count the number of stones on the ceiling. His eyes would go cross-eyed if he stared at a single stone for too long. He sometimes forgot which number came after the other, requiring him to be completely silent and think for several minutes, and then he would have to start all over again. The two would be busy for hours.

Blaise Zabini, however, had been more difficult. He had just been ready to leave the common room when Blaise had appeared on the stone steps leading from the boys' dormitory.

"Where are you going? It's late," he yawned, stretching his arms over his disheveled red hair.

"Late night study session," Draco replied, picking up some random books from one of the dark mahogany tables. Blaise was a good friend, one of his only true and most trustworthy friends, and Draco had qualms about lying to him. But the less Blaise knew, the safer he would be, and Draco was averse to losing his trust.

The Zabinis, though not Death Eaters, were supporters of the dark arts. Blaise was one of the few friends that his father approved of.

Blaise seemed to lose most of his sleepiness. "You expect me to believe that?" He expertly lifted a red eyebrow and eyed Draco disapprovingly.

"Do you have to pry so much, Zabini? Shouldn't you be sleeping or studying instead?' He was going to miss his opportunity if he didn't leave soon.

Blaise looked intently at Draco, unwavering. "Do you actually want me to answer that, or should I just glare?"

"Fine." Draco gave a heavy sigh. "Potter and Weasley were planning something tonight. I'm just going to see what they're up to."

Blaise nodded, staring at the floor, then he looked up, curiously. "Need any help?"

"With those two morons? I think I've got it. Simply a little vengeance tonight, nothing more."

"Isn't it always?" He nodded again then turned to go, and wished Draco good luck.

"Blaise," Draco called. The other Slytherin, one foot already on the step, turned and cast a questioning glance back.

"How did you know that I was lying?"

The redhead smiled and pointed at the books. "G'nite," he grinned.

"Good night." Puzzled, Draco looked at the front covers, and blanched at what he saw. The books were entitled Volume I: 101 Ways to Get a Guy to Notice You, and Volume II: 102 Tips to Keeping the Man You Love. "Checked out by Pansy Parkinson!"

He hurriedly threw the books under a pillow and struggled not to retch as he left the common room.

No matter how many times Draco wandered the passageways of Hogwarts, he could never quite shake the uneasy feeling that seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach when he was walking alone. Maybe it was the layer of dust that seemed to settle itself overnight on the suits of armor, or maybe it was the ephemeral glow that appeared to radiate off the moon that night. Either way, it gave the castle a decidedly ethereal, eerie feel. And, like freshly fallen snow, the silvery beams found every nook and cranny, illuminating the castle.

He began to hear footsteps, lightly at first, and then they became distinguishable. Two sets of footsteps, slowly approaching each other. As he came closer, he could distinguish the smell of potions ingredients and cauldron smoke. It was obviously Professor Snape out for his usual night patrol, although he wasn't sure who the other person was. They were coming from the opposite direction, and too far away, even for his keen sense of smell. Draco guessed quickly when the sharp clap, clap of a women's heels and the huffy breathing started to echo loudly.

"Severus!" rang McGonagall's shrill voice through the crisp night air. "We have a situation to discuss, and don't you dare say that you took no part in it!"

She huffed all the way to Snape, eyes stern and accusing and fists clenched tightly, most likely to prevent the urge to strangle.

Draco held his breath and peeked around the corner, standing so close to the wall that his cheek scraped against the stone. If Snape found him now, then it was a sure bet that there would be a new jar in his potions lab labeled "Minced Draco Malfoy." He might have time for a quick look before Potter and Weasel came.

The professors must have been more that two hundred feet down that hallway, but Draco could see them as if it were daylight. Having superior senses were becoming more useful now.

McGonagall's lumos spell shone like a candle, highlighting her aged face and graying hair. Snape had stopped and was facing her with what could be assumed as a look of innocence. McGonagall appeared angry, and although Draco respected his Head of House, he anticipated hearing someone besides himself being ridiculed by the Gryffindor matriarch.

"I know," she fumed through tight lips, her wand tip inching closer to Snape's nose, "that you were in some way responsible for Draco Malfoy's detention, or should I say lack there of! Really, Severus, as Head of Slytherin, you're supposed to set an example for the children you teach; not play about using childish antics," she finished, and continued to glare. She would have stomped her foot if it was proper.

The Slytherin didn't balk at this exclamation. "Minerva, are you implying that Mr. Malfoy didn't complete his detention?"

"You know exactly what I mean. He cheated! He sent house elves to do the work for him, which is specifically in violation of the rules of the detention."

Snape appeared to muse for several seconds as he cocked his head to one side. At last, he said "Now, if Mr. Malfoy was correct in relating it to me, you said that he must clean the owlery without the use of his own magic. Is this correct?"

"Yes..." she replied, eyebrows furrowing behind rounded glasses. It sounded like Snape was about to outwit her, again.

"Then I see no reason to punish the boy since he didn't use any magics. All Mr. Malfoy did was beseech the house elves to assist him in cleaning the owlery, which clearly requires no magic whatsoever. Do you not agree?"

McGonagall's eyes bored into Snape's like daggers, and Draco was sure that Snape was going to spontaneously combust right there and then.

There seemed to be no way she could argue, since Snape had no flaws in his suave logic. And she also knew that Draco hadn't coerced or bribed the house elves like you would have to do with students, because they're always so happy to please that they fall over their own feet trying to hurry.

She'd been bested, but Draco could tell by the look in her eyes that the matter had not ended. McGonagall relinquished in the end, promising that she would be more specific and put everything in writing (with witnesses) for every detention that she gave to the Slytherins, but by that part of her tirade, Draco was running to be on time to catch Potter and Weasley.

This was bad. He was almost late, and the halls were so bright that it might as well have been Christmas. Draco just simply couldn't lose this opportunity to humiliate and hold power over the Golden Trio.

These conditions would make it easy for Filch to find anyone lurking in the halls at this time of night. It was a good thing the Tower was deeper inside the castle, or he would have a difficult time hiding from Wonder Boy and his sidekicks, heightened senses or not.

He slackened his pace when he began to hear muted voices coming from one of the intersecting corridors. Draco had a general idea of where Gryffindor Tower was located, but he couldn't be positive. Because of this, he had only a general idea of the direction that the two would be coming from. Everything would be ruined if he met them beforehand. If this happened, then that meant that he would never find that secret passage, a once in a lifetime opportunity! Heart beating considerably faster than normal, Draco flattened himself against the stone wall, aware of the spiders just above him.

"Ouch! Watch it, that's my heel!" hissed a voice down the hall, in a voice too quiet for normal human hearing to hear from such a distance.

"Well if you walked faster, then you wouldn't have that problem, now would you?"

Potter and Weasley. He was hoping that it would be only the two of them. Two pairs of eyes could see a lot less than three. Draco had considered the possibility that Granger might accompany them, if only for moral support, but he pushed away that thought as soon as it came to mind. Granger, as Head Girl, wouldn't have the guts to actually break curfew. And if she did, she wouldn't be stupid enough to be making as much noise as these two.

Wait a second. Something wasn't right. It felt like something was moving on him. It felt like...oh, this is just disgusting!

"That's just what I need, getting caught by Filch. You must have a sick sense of humor, Ron, if you think a night with Filch is the perfect date. So how are you two doing anyway? I heard it was getting serious between- Ouch! Hey, I was only kidding! You're gonna' get us caught!" Thwack. "Ouch!"

Luckily, the pair only gave a passing glance down Draco's hallway. They were still a bit busy attacking each other. If they had had looked, they would have seen a scandalized Draco Malfoy attempting to silently battle several spiders that had decided to drop down on his head and shoulders.

Once his arachnid foes had been vanquished (he had shown no mercy!), Draco carefully rounded the corner, just as Potter and Weasley took the next right. He followed them, keeping them in his sight as they meandered through the maze of corridors that led to the passage.

Once there, Draco took a second to get a good view of the entire area. He had rarely been in this part of the castle, and had never given it a second glance. Now, he cautiously scanned the hall, looking for a good hiding place. An old statue of a witch with one eye was set against a wall that faced a hallway. There were several adjacent corridors to the left and right, leaving the witch as a sort of marker between the three hallways, each lined with a single archway. Two pillars were placed at either side of the arcade, providing a perfect hiding place if someone was standing in one of the other arches. The only way that Draco could possibly be discovered there was if either Potter or Weasley stood in the middle of the archway, right beside the exact pillar that he was hiding behind. He waited.

And then the cloak came off...

The torchlight flickered, glinting off Potter's glasses and highlighting the angles of his face as he stood before the witch and palmed his wand. Weasley, visage resolute, stationed himself opposite the statue, a distance of some fifteen feet. He repeatedly cast uneasy glances down the hallway, but was careful to shield his body behind the wall in case an uninvited guest made a surprise appearance.

This gave Draco a chance to slip behind a pillar to the left. He crouched close to the ground, leaning against the wall, and willed himself to stay as still as the column he was hiding behind. He wet his lips in anticipation. Now, he would finally know one of the Wonder Trio's dirty secrets, and when he did, he would blackmail them until he tired of the game, or got what he wanted from them.

Potter gave one last cursory glance around the room, until his eyes stopped on his best friend. "Ready, Ron?"

"You're clear," he said in a deep whisper, and stole a quick look around the corner once more. His freckles stood out in sharp contrast to his pale face. He looked especially hideous in his maroon jumper that he wore right now, with a big fat "R" right in the center of his chest. Draco had seen Potter in one almost exactly like it, and had wondered on more than one occasion why anyone would voluntarily wear something that looked like prison clothing.

A drop of sweat rolled down Draco's temple, despite the freezing weather that penetrated the stones of the ancient castle. He held his breath in anticipation of what would happen next.

Giving a quick nod, Potter tapped the one-eyed witch's hump with his wand. In a clear voice, he said "Dissendium", and waited for whatever was to transpire.

At first, nothing happened. Draco was confused. Did he say the right word? Was anything supposed to occur at all? He stretched his neck around the pillar, trying to catch a better view of the statue. Perhaps it was charmed to be invisible to anyone but the person performing the spell.

But Draco's thoughts were interrupted. Rock began to grate against rock, and a small cloud of dust rose above the statue. He couldn't see what was going on, but he would have bet a hundred galleons that some sort of trap door had just opened. To confirm his suspicions, Potter boosted himself upwards and into the witch, face first, and disappeared from sight.

A triumphant grin lit the Slytherin's ashen face. Jackpot.

Potter wasn't gone more than two minutes when a medium sized bundle of folded material began to push itself out of the middle of the hump. Once clear, it fell lightly to the ground beside the statue.

Draco had had several days to ponder the properties that this cloak might have. A piece of clothing could be charmed to do just about anything nowadays. Many charmed their clothing to repel water, or to be stain proof. Some material could be charmed to be unable to be cut, or it could be cursed to attack whoever put it on.

Draco didn't think a cloak like that would be important enough to risk the wrath of Snape or Filch. No, it was something rarer than that. So Draco had concluded that it must be one of two things: it could be an invisibility cloak, or it could be a Confundus cloak, which allows the user to assume the identity of whoever they wish. The cloaks fuse themselves with the wearer, creating a layer of magical energy that confuses whoever sees the cloak into believing that the cloaked wizard is someone else, according to the wishes of the wearer. Muggles would classify such a thing as an optical illusion. In a way, it acts like Polyjuice potion, but Confundus cloaks had become outdated since the invention of the concoction. Some wearers of the Confundus cloak had the slight misfortune of being spliced into two different people, which would occur if the cloak were worn by anyone other than its owner. In the end, the Ministry had outlawed its use, claiming that it was a risk to national security. Only a handful of dark arts antiquities collectors still possessed them, and in strictest secrecy.

There were several drawbacks to the cloak. One, you could not make fast movements while under the cloak, or else the image would flicker and become unstable. Also, the Confundus Cloak can only confuse a person with a magical background. Muggles can't be fooled. Unlike Polyjuice potion, however, a wizard or witch can wear a Confundus cloak for up to three days at a time without the magic wearing off. With Polyjuice potion, one has only a little more than an hour to perpetrate whatever mischief they needed to. Another disadvantage of Polyjuice potion is the fact that you need a sample of whomever you are changing into. With a Confundus cloak, all a wizard has to do is think about whom they want to be while wearing the cloak, and they assume the person's form.

Draco considered the possibility that it was an invisibility cloak. A Confundus cloak, while highly interesting, was both dangerous and highly illegal. Potter would never own anything like that. It wasn't very practical, either. What could he do with it? Pretend to be Professor Snape and let Potions out early, leaving every last Slytherin with a month's worth of detention? While the idea would be tempting, it didn't seem plausible. As with both Polyjuice potion and the Confundus cloak, one had to be careful that you didn't run into your counterpart while assuming their form. To say the least, it would create a vastly embarrassing situation. So unless Potter was planning on overpowering Snape and locking him in the broom closet, he didn't think Potions would be let out early in the near future.

If Potter had an invisibility cloak, then that would explain an awful lot. How had he been able to pull all of his stupid little stunts without being caught by Filch or any of the other teachers? How had Potter's head been floating in Hogsmeade by the Shrieking Shack that day in their third year? And why had Draco been so dense that he hadn't thought of it before? If he had been wearing an invisibility cloak, then it would have been very possible for his head to be floating outside of Hogsmeade.

Draco ground his teeth in aggravation. He wanted to kick himself! The answer had been so obvious!

Weasley had just walked over to pick up the cloak when a shuffling noise caught his attention. He peered into the hole.

"Harry, are you alright down there?" he asked, concerned.

"Uh, I think I've got a problem," was Harry's sheepish reply.

"Oh not again," spat Ron exasperatedly. He threw down the cloak and proceeded to climb into the statue until his entire torso was inside. Bracing his feet on the sides, Ron called to Harry. "Alright mate, grab my hand, and I'll pull you loose. On the count of three, ready?"

Now was his chance to make an appearance. He silently laughed to himself, anticipating the looks on their faces when they realized he had been spying on them the entire time.

Draco stepped out from behind the pillar and leaned casually against the stone wall; one knee crooked forward, and watched the scene unfold. With only the mildest bit of interest, he watched as Weasley labored to pull Potter free, who appeared to be stuck in the narrow passageway. With one last tug, both boys fell out of the statue and fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs. The grating of rock signaled that the passage was closing once more.

"Are you hurt?" wheezed Weasley, struggling to push himself forward to a sitting position.

"No, something broke my fall."

"You know good and well that was me, so how about getting off?" Weasley gave Potter a lighthearted shove, leaving Potter on the floor beside him, laughing softly.

"Ugh, I think you broke a rib or something," winced Weasley, rubbing his side painfully.

Potter rolled his eyes, although the look went unnoticed by Weasley since Potter was still on his back. "Don't you think you'd know if your rib was broken?"

"As much as I'd love to witness this little get together further-," drawled Draco as he leaned against the wall and examined his fingernails carelessly, "-I think that we should finish here and leave before Filch finds three new recruits to scrub the filth from the Entrance Hall."

Potter and Weasley stared open-mouthed at Draco for several seconds before regaining their wits. When they did, they scrambled to a standing position, ready to pounce.

"Nice hair, Malfoy," said Weasley, angrily.

Potter stepped forward, eyes narrowed behind his round lenses. "Ten points to Slytherin for a good entrance, Malfoy," he spat sarcastically. "Now, what do you want, and how long have you been standing there?"

Draco feigned a hurt expression. "Manners, Potter. Aren't you going to ask how I'm doing on this fine evening?" He stepped away from the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and meeting Harry's gaze.

"Just answer the question Malfoy. I don't have time for your games."

Draco lifted a single pale eyebrow. "None of us do. As to the time, I've been here long enough to learn a few interesting things that they don't teach us in class." Harry winced, knowing what was coming. "And as to what I want, I thought that was obvious. I would like to know where that nice little secret passage of yours leads to." He glanced back at the one-eyed witch. "Oh, and Weasley," he said, turning to the boy, whose hand had been slowly inching towards his back pocket where his wand lay. "I thought that you would know by now, that cursing me at this time of night would be a very stupid thing to do. We all know that a curse would bring a teacher running from every direction faster than a snitch can fly. But, again, maybe I'm giving you too much credit."

Weasley let his hand drop to his side, his disappointment obvious and his rage slowly growing. He looked back at Draco, a sneer curling his upper lip. "We're not telling you a thing, so just bugger off you git!"

Draco shot Weasley a half-hearted glare and looked heavenward, as if sending a silent plea for a bolt of lightning to strike somewhere near, preferably Weasley. "You really think that I can't find out for myself? I know where it is, I know the password, so you might as well tell me the rest."

Potter spoke up. "You'll just rat us out to Snape for being up past curfew, even if we did tell you."

"Rat? More like a ferret," grumbled Weasley under his breath, staring down at the floor.

Draco ignored the jibe and started to walk at a slow pace, circling the two other boys. It somehow felt like the right thing to do.

"That's an invisibility cloak, isn't it Potter? Quite handy, hmm? Tell me, where did you acquire such a splendid thing," Draco asked. The way he said it you would have thought that they had just discussed a homework assignment or their thoughts on the next Quidditch league champions.

Potter turned back and fixed the ashen boy with a hard stare. "I won't ask you how you found out. If you tell anyone-"

"I know, I know," Draco replied cheerfully. "You'll eviscerate me and hang what's left of my broken and bloodied corpse from Gryffindor Tower. How about instead," he suggested, "we negotiate. You tell me where this passage goes, and any little secrets that might be hiding along the way, and I'll keep your little secret about the invisibility cloak. Deal?" Draco mentally smiled. There was no way the Gryffindorks were getting out of this one. Not a single way. He would have explored the passage himself, and then held the cloak over Potter's head as blackmail, but nowadays you had no idea if the passage wasn't cursed or hexed, and an explorer could quickly get killed. He should know; there were numerous passageways around Malfoy Manor with dozens of surprises waiting around each corner for any ill-fated burglar or snoop.

"Your word," replied Potter seriously as he fastened his eyes on Draco.

"My what?"

"I want your word that you'll keep your bargain," he clarified in dead earnestness. Weasley threw his hands up into the air, as if the suggestion was the most absurd thing he had ever heard of. Draco looked at Potter with an appraising glance.

"You would take my word as a guarantee?" Draco always kept his word, but only the Slytherins or Ravenclaws would know that, as he really had very few dealings with Gryffindors. His father, for whatever flaws that he had, was a very keen businessman and had always taught Draco that if a man's word could not be trusted, then he wasn't worth his weight in dragon dung. And for the Malfoys, worth was everything.

"Yes. But just in case you forget, I would like to remind you that you are out of bed as well, and there's no way you could prove that we're out unless you incriminate yourself. And unless my memory is a bit foggy, I can't imagine that you'd like to spend another detention in the Forbidden Forest," smiled Potter, who seemed quite pleased at the turn of events.

"Minced Draco Malfoy" was the first image that popped into the Slytherin's head. If Snape ever knew that he blackmailed by the Gryffindors...he didn't want to think about it. It was too dreadful.

Ron, wanting to get his two knuts worth in too, added "And you can't tell anyone about the passageway either." He cracked his knuckles threateningly, and the sound seemed to reverberate around the hallway. Draco ignored him.

Draco's eyebrows furrowed dangerously as he scowled at Potter and Weasley, but mostly Potter. Unfortunately, the Boy Who Lived was right. He didn't relish the thought of going back into that wasteland of magical monsters, but neither did he relish the idea of relinquishing to these two miscreants. In the end, self-preservation won out over pride.

"Fine," he sniffed. "I give my word, as a Malfoy, that I will not tell anyone that you have an invisibility cloak and that you two have been here tonight, nor will anyone be told about the passage. Is that good enough?" But that didn't include showing others the passageway. Draco felt that he was going to have a bit of fun with this later on. When will the Gryffindors ever learn to word their sentences correctly?

"And that includes your pals in Slytherin," added Weasley, who looked like he didn't believe him in the slightest.

"No one else will be told," repeated Draco with an annoyed expression. "About anything."

Potter held out his hand to the Slytherin, who stepped forward and shook it firmly. Once done, the two jumped apart quickly. The enemies stared at each other for several seconds before Potter finally decided to break the silence. "Alright, we've got that out of the way. Now," he turned back to the witch and glanced at Draco. "I assume you know how to open it?"

Draco smirked and strode purposefully toward the statue. The Slytherin tapped it with his wand and, with an air of great satisfaction, spoke the charm. The statue, which had remained motionless during the conversation, began to gratingly and slowly open until a small and rather dusty narrow entrance could be seen on the top of the hump.

"The entrance used to be smaller," said Potter, gesturing at the passage. Although he was still on his guard, he had dropped the angry façade. "I had to widen it last year because I kept on getting stuck. I guess I didn't widen it enough," he said, with an awkward grin aimed at Weasley.

Draco peered inside. "Why don't you widen it now, while you're here?"

Harry frowned and shook his head. "Not possible at nighttime. Too much noise; it'll bring Filch running. Silencing charms would be detected by the professors. Best time to do it is during the day, when there are a couple hundred sudents walking around and making noise too."

Draco nodded approvingly. "It's dark in there," he said to no one in particular.

"What, scared of something Malfoy?" asked Weasley with an uncharacteristic sneer.

"Should I be?" countered Draco in a cold manner. "Now tell me. Is there anything I should watch out for, like trapdoors and hexes and the like?" He had kept his gaze on the passage, trying to see through the pitch-black darkness. He didn't dare try a Lumos spell. The light had a good chance of attracting Filch or Mrs. Norris.

"Nope. Just a bumpy walk." Potter would let Draco find the places to duck by himself.

Weasley stepped forward around Potter. He didn't like the idea of sharing their important secrets with a Slytherin. If he could provoke Draco into throwing the first punch, then there was no way for him to take the blame completely, even if Snape was standing behind him watching the entire thing.

"Shouldn't you be out murdering or torturing or something like that? I mean, that's what Death Eaters do you know. Or were you rejected from your special little club? Daddy couldn't buy your way in." Weasley looked at Draco in satisfaction, daring him into action.

Draco's face had become stony. His hands were clenched to fists, knuckles white. "If only you knew Weasley," whispered Draco, in a voice so low as to be almost inaudible. Weasley made as if to reach for his wand again, but Potter stepped between the two.

"That's enough!" hissed Potter in a low voice. "What part of "be quiet so Filch won't catch us" do you not understand?" Potter eyed them both in an accusatory manner.

"We're fine; Filch is nowhere near us right now," said Draco offhandedly as he took a few short breaths, chest rising and falling a bit too quickly for normal. If he didn't calm himself now, his eyes would surely change color.

"How would you know?" asked Potter as he shot Draco a questioning and suspicious glance.

Damn. "I passed him on my way here, going in the opposite direction," he replied hurriedly, taking his former spot against the wall. If his eyes were changing color, he wanted some distance from the Gryffindors. There's no way he could explain how he could hear the mice scratching around a floor below them if he wanted to, much less Filch tromping around. If he focused on it, Filch's silent footsteps could become as loud as a herd of stampeding cattle, but it still took a lot of practice. He needed to change the subject quickly. "So, where does this passage lead to?"

"The passage leads to Hogsmeade," answered Potter, still looking strangely at Draco. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with one hand in a gesture of pure exhaustion and spoke to Draco once more. Draco calmed a bit, even if he did still feel like cursing Weasley into oblivion. "Honeydukes, actually. There's a staircase that leads to a trapdoor in the cellar. And as of now-," said Potter, glancing back at Draco, "-Filch doesn't know about it."

"And it better stay that way," snarled Weasley over Potter's shoulder.

"Keep your cloak on, Weasley. I'd hate to see you mess that one up. I don't think your parents could afford to buy you a new one. You'd have to borrow a pillow case from one of the house elves." He looked a Weasley once more, not bothering to hide his contempt. "Then again, in might be an improvement. Besides," he added, placing a hand against the column and letting it support his weight, "A Malfoy always keeps his promise." If they're legally certified, he mentally added. He knew he shouldn't provoke the Weasel, but it was just too much fun.

Weasley looked like he was about to throttle Draco. They glared at each other; each hoping the other would somehow spontaneously combust.

"Come on," urged Potter, who laid a hand on Weasley's shoulder, intent on moving his friend away from an imminent fight. It was clear that Weasley didn't want to end the argument there, but Potter's persistent tug settled the matter.

"Remember Potter - you owe me a favor. I'll collect it someday."

Potter, although quite unhappy, nodded curtly. "There's something not quite right about you Malfoy. I can't put my finger on it, but when I figure it out, you'll be the one owing me a favor."

"You know, you've got quite a few secrets of your own. I wonder what else you're hiding Potter."

Although quite shaken by Potter's ominous words, he attempted to show no sign of it. He had been counting on his own blind luck and the Gryffindor's stupidity so far to keep his secret safe, but Draco now saw that he had to keep himself on a tighter leash, and no pun intended.

"Hopefully we'll never have enough time together for you to find out. Come on Ron." They turned their backs on Draco and headed back the way they came. Weasley glared back over his shoulder as they left.

"Thanks Potter, Weasel," called Draco sarcastically and quietly to their retreating backs. Filch was getting closer now. If he was lucky, Potter and the Weasel might still be caught. "I'll see you in potions."

And a very pleased Draco Malfoy returned to the Slytherin common rooms, several corridors and one left of Filch.