Beneath the Rose

Chapter Three -- Tricks of His Own

The nice thing about being the first to finish dinner was getting back to the common room earlier than everyone else, which guaranteed the most comfortable spots for doing homework. Once they spoke the password and walked through the frame, Harry took a seat at the table closest to the fireplace while Ron went upstairs to get their things. Unlike Hermione, who had finished long ago, they still needed to complete their Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. Ron came back moments later with Harry's bag in one hand and his books and parchments in the other. Once he placed everything onto the table, they unrolled their parchments and sighed at almost exactly the same time.

"How much more do you still have to write?" Harry asked without taking his eyes off his paper.

"Everything other than the title and my name." Ron winced, and Harry smiled.

"If only Hermione was here to see this. Oh, she'd go crazy!" the brunet teased. Hermione was thankfully out of earshot. He pulled out a quill from inside his bag and then reached in again to search for his ink.

"I can't believe I'm wasting another Sunday night doing assignments." Ron spoke as he flipped through his textbook, a look of disgust on his face. "How about you?"

"A bit more work on the body paragraph and a conclusion." The redhead glared. "What? I had to do something when Hermione was with us. I can't stand one minute with her when she's nagging."

The boys smiled at each other and became quiet after that. Ron scratched his head once in a while, and Harry tapped the quill against the wooden desk. Other than that, the room was pretty much silent. The quietness was broken when footsteps sounded outside the common room, followed by giggles and murmurs of the password. It was no doubt Dean and Seamus returning from their meal.

"Another Sunday spent doing homework." Seamus sighed. "I don't think I'll be able to escape that fate either."

"Go get your work. The faster you finish that essay, the faster you can start blabbing again," Dean said, already moving toward the staircase. Seamus pulled a chair and sat across from Harry and Ron. After making sure that Dean was out of sight, Seamus wheeled around and continued where he had left off.

"Those professors really don't have anything better to do except assign us work. Don't they realize that they'll be the ones marking all these papers in the end? Why can't they just make it easier on themselves? Sitting at their desks, having a hot cup of tea...wouldn't that be so much nicer?"

"Seamus, leave my brother and Harry out of your ranting." Seamus jumped at Ginny's comment. "If you don't want to finish your essay, that's fine. Let Snape skin you, for all I care. But I believe there are certain individuals who do not wish to be tortured to death over some stupid assignment." Seamus stood up, both hands in the air, and mouthed, "I'll leave, I'll leave." He ran up the stairs and disappeared. Ginny looked at Ron, then at Harry, and smiled. "Now that Finnigan's gone, good luck with your essays." She eyed Harry a few seconds longer before following her friends back to the girl's dormitory. Harry traced their steps as they left the common room and then buried his head behind the textbook once more. It was not long before Dean and Seamus returned to join Ron and Harry again.

"How's the essay going?"

"Not very well," Harry replied. Ron rolled his eyes.

"You're as good as done, mate!"

"I bet you've been procrastinating again, Ron." Dean smirked knowingly, seeing Ron grimace at the comment. "Even with Hermione as your lady? This is just too hard to believe." Ron flushed a colour that matched his hair. The other boys just laughed.

"Speaking of essays," Seamus spoke once the laughter died down, "do you think Malfoy's actually going to write it?" After the incident in the boys' bathroom, almost every conversation revolved around either Harry or Malfoy.

"That little snake," Ron snorted with still a tinge of blush on his cheeks. "Always Snape's favourite. I can't believe he let the dimwit stay in the Hospital Wing for three days! I bet Snape told that bloody twat he didn't need to write the essay, either. I wonder what's next."

"Now that you mention it, he skipped Charms and Transfiguration twice last week," Dean said.

Seamus nodded.

"And how do you explain the dark circles under his eyes?" Harry asked absent-mindedly, while continuing to compose his body paragraph. Noticing the sudden drop in volume, he looked up, only to find the rest of the boys staring at him with raised eyebrows. "What?"

"How do you notice something like that? From what I remember, you were never the type to dig for details," Seamus said, half curious and half amused. "This is Malfoy we're talking about."

Harry frowned this time. "I thought it was kind of obvious."

"Or maybe you spend so much time staring at him that these things just get burned into your head." The boys turned at the sound of Hermione's voice. "Harry, you're taking this way too seriously. I'm not saying that he's not up to no good, but how can you be so sure?"

"With all that evidence?" Harry asked.

"That's not evidence. You're just making assumptions."

"Now you're taking Malfoy's side, are you?"

"I wasn't taking anyone's side, Ron." Hermione glared at Ron and then faced Harry again. "I just didn't want you to spend so much time on this. You have so much to do already. You can't even manage all of your classes, not to mention the extra lessons you're receiving from Dumbledore. I don't want you to get stressed over something you don't have to worry about. Besides, Dumbledore said not to dig into it anymore, didn't he?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. The three of them had discussed this too many times already; each discussion came down to the same thing. If they thought this wasn't a serious matter, then so be it. But he wasn't about to give up just yet. In fact, he was going to prove them wrong once and for all. After quickly scribbling down his concluding sentence, Harry rolled up his parchment and stuffed it into his bag, excused himself from his friends, and marched straight to his dorm.

The boy dumped his bag on the bed and began digging through his trunk. Tossing aside shirts, textbooks, and unmatched socks, Harry finally found what he was looking for near the bottom of the trunk. He pulled the old thing from under his tee-shirts and aimed his drawn wand at the yellowed paper.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Ink began to scatter across the parchment and in seconds turned into words only too familiar to Harry. He unfolded the paper and saw small dots moving on the page. A large number of students were gathered in each of the four common rooms, and quite a few were positioned in the Library. Instinctively, Harry went to the section that showed the seventh floor. He carefully searched the parchment and made sure he didn't miss any small corridors or hidden passages, but Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Thinking that the Slytherin had probably escaped to the Room of Requirement right after dinner, Harry frowned. He was about to tap his wand on the map again when he noticed the name "Draco Malfoy" floating near the staircase leading to the seventh floor. He watched anxiously as the tiny ink dot moved closer to the stairs.

Three... two... one...

The label floated past the stairs without any hint of stopping or hesitation. It moved across the corridor and made a turn, disappearing down the flight of stairs to the fifth floor. This was new.

If Malfoy's not going to the Room of Requirements, then where is he going?

Struck by curiosity, Harry checked the clock at the far end of the room. It was ten minutes until nine. He pulled the Invisibility Cloak from beneath his pillow. Placing the parchment into his robe pocket, Harry swung the cloak over himself and tiptoed his way down the hall. The common room was crammed with people. He chose his steps carefully in order not to bump into anyone and tried to avoid any potential risk of exposing himself.

"Ow!" The cry startled Harry. He looked down and saw he had accidentally stepped on Seamus's foot. "What did you do that for, Dean? I was just joking!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You just stepped on my foot!" Harry rushed to the other side of the room immediately--almost knocking Lavender over in the process--and climbed out of the portrait hole. Once outside, the boy broke into a run in fear that someone might have discovered him.

He finally slowed his pace when he thought he was a good distance away from the common room. Harry took out the Marauder's Map again and found Malfoy on the fourth floor. The boy searched the page again and found his own name written legibly across a label not too far from where Malfoy was. He quickly traced the routes and shortcuts and then hastily followed after the Slytherin.

Harry caught up with Malfoy in no time, keeping a discreet distance between him and the other boy. The blonde didn't seem to change his pace, which assured Harry that Malfoy hadn't realized he was being followed. Yet. He trailed after him as the Slytherin descended to the third floor and continued to stroll carelessly. The tower bell sounded, but Malfoy had no intention of returning to the Dungeon. Instead, he walked to the closest stairs and marched straight to first floor, proceeding to an exit that led out to the grounds. Harry was puzzled; this turn of events gave him all the more reason to pursue the Slytherin.

The cold wind hit the brunet as he stepped out into the night, and he pulled the cloak a little closer to him. He managed to spot Malfoy; the blonde moved as he did in the castle, not even bothered in the slightest by the drop in temperature. Malfoy moved away from the pathway and onto the grass hill. Harry knew immediately where they were heading, but he had no clue as to why the Slytherin intended on going there.

As they reached the top of the hill, the brunet saw the tranquil black water that lay just beyond. The blonde turned, making Harry stop in his tracks. For a second he thought he had been discovered, but then he realized that Malfoy was not actually staring at him but at the castle. Finally, the blonde blinked and drew his weary gaze away. Harry cautiously followed him to the edge of the lake. Malfoy stopped by an oak tree and sat down, pushing his feet against a nearby rock. Harry picked a spot a few meters from the other boy and took a seat. The blonde rubbed his hand across his forehead tiredly and leaned closer to the Black Lake. With a jolt, the Slytherin leaned back onto the trunk. Tension began to build between his brows the moment his back made contact with the rough wooden bark. The wrinkles above his nose were eased little by little, and finally the blonde opened his eyes. Harry saw the raw emotions hidden within the stormy grey; it was more or less of a phenomenon, seeing Malfoy shed away the layers of armor he wrapped himself with in front of everyone. Nobody could have guessed who was beneath all that glamour, lonely and so distant from the world.

The wind picked up, blowing the leaves and grass high above the ground. The Gryffindor held onto the cloak even tighter and kept his head down, hoping to keep himself unexposed. He returned his attention to the blonde when the wind died down. The grey orbs became dark and clouded--dead almost--like life was being sifted away. Harry saw him shiver. Whether it was from the cold or something else, he could not tell, but his intuition told him that something was wrong. He hurried over to where the Slytherin sat, no longer caring if he was discovered or not. Up close, the brunet saw fright and pain creeping up the boy's face.

"Malfoy!" Harry shook the blonde as he spoke. "Malfoy, snap out of it!" The blonde made no response at first and then, as if digesting the words, the anxiety lightened on his face, followed by the easing of the shivers. He snapped his head upward abruptly, eyes coming into focus again. The sudden motion made Harry jump, and the Invisibility Cloak slipped out of his grip.

Malfoy looked surprised when he saw the familiar unruly dark hair and round glasses appear out of nowhere. Time seemed to stop as the boys stared at each other, not knowing what to do next. Without warning, the blonde pushed Harry away and stood up to collect himself.

"Why the hell are you out here?" Malfoy demanded, patting the dirt off his black robe.

"Why are you?" Harry shot back, realizing that he shouldn't be in the position to be asked questions.

The blonde ceased his action suddenly and narrowed his eyes in alarm. "Did you follow me here?" Harry made no reply and continued to stare at the Slytherin.

"I'm going to ask you again, Potter." The boy slipped his hand inside his pocket and took out his wand. "Did you follow me here?"

"What if I did? Why do you care so much?"

Malfoy lowered his wand, shutting his eyes in frustration. He brought the wand in front of his chest, playing with the wood and feeling its texture in his fingers. The blonde looked tired all of a sudden, and the dark circles made him look even more fragile.

"You know what? I won't bother asking." He stopped fiddling with the wand and placed it back into his pockets. "Just leave."

"I'll leave if you come inside with me." Malfoy's eyebrows shot up, and he was about to make a retort, but Harry continued. "You and I both know that it's past curfew." He whispered Tempus to indicate the time--half past nine. "And do consider the fact that Filch, Mrs. Norris, and a few other professors are all somewhere in the castle patrolling the floors right now."

"I didn't see anyone while I was out roaming."

"They usually leave their offices five minutes after curfew." The Slytherin quirked an eyebrow. "If you don't trust me, you can try walking back in right now. There's no way you'll make it to the Dungeon before being spotted."

"And how would you know all this?"

Harry was silenced for a moment. Telling him about the Marauder's Map was definitely not an option. Even though he didn't dislike Malfoy, he couldn't guarantee that the blonde would not use the knowledge against him. Knowing him, it was probably the first thing he'd do. Harry rubbed his forehead and replied. "It doesn't matter, Malfoy. The point is, they're out." He paused, staring into the grey crystals. They were slightly more readable than when Harry had attempted to interpret them a few nights ago. Perhaps it was the condition Malfoy was in that made it possible to reach into his mind. Confusion was what he saw first, mixed with surprise. Then as he looked deeper, he saw embarrassment and sadness. Harry felt a surge of guilt rising. It stung him to see those emotions flicker across the blonde's eyes. He couldn't help but empathize with the boy and decided that he didn't want to leave the blonde in his state, distraught and devastated. Harry sighed.

"Come on. I'll walk you back to your common room."

"As if I'll have the protection of Godric Gryffindor." Malfoy snorted.

"No. But you will have the protection of my Invisibility Cloak."

"Lovely. And what would you like in return for this?"

"Nothing."

"That's hard to believe, considering we're a pain in each other's arse."

Harry shrugged, trying to look casual. "Just keep your mouth shut. I don't want to end up in detention because of this. I don't think you'd want to either. If I remember correctly, you tried to get us into trouble by telling McGonagall about our little visit to Hagrid's hut and ended up in detention yourself."

"If you mean that little incident in first year, then you were right; your memory hasn't failed you, yet. But, I did learn a valuable lesson that day, and that was to think before I act."

"So? What will it be?"

Malfoy frowned a little as the Gryffindor shook off his provocation. His expression became impassive, and Harry thought that perhaps the Slytherin was considering his offer.

"I think I'd like to take my chances." Malfoy marched toward the old castle, shoving Harry aside as he walked past. The dark-haired boy stumbled back, surprised. It took him some time to recover from the pure shock and realize that Malfoy was already far from the grounds. Harry pulled out the map to check the location of the blonde, swearing under his breath as he did so. He spotted Malfoy just a few feet away from the entrance to the castle; Filch approaching him from a corridor to the left. He tucked the parchment inside his robe pocket, took hold of his Invisibility Cloak, and ran up the hill.

Upon reaching the hall, Harry found the Slytherin right away and ran, trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible. He took hold of Malfoy's black robe, and before the blonde could react, pulled him behind a rusted armor and covered them both under the Invisibility Cloak.

"What the hell is--"

"Shhh!" Harry placed his hand over the other boy's mouth to keep him from speaking, which resulted in vicious struggles and muffled protests. "Filch is coming!" Malfoy became still the instant those words left Harry's mouth. The brunet kept his hand on the other boy's mouth nevertheless. He motioned Malfoy closer and made sure their feet were covered completely. As they huddled, they could hear footsteps drawing near and a faint glowing light that illuminated the darkness enveloping them. Filch appeared from behind the corridor, limping as he took each step; Mrs. Norris followed him lazily. When they passed the armor, the black cat turned and gazed at Harry straight in the eye, as if she could see right through the invisible fabric, and purred.

"What is it, Mrs. Norris?" Filch turned around and saw his cat staring at the armor. "Is something there?" She purred again, and he limped to the statue. Harry nudged the blonde to move to the right, so they both shuffled their feet to get out of Filch's way. But, Mrs. Norris' eyes never left them. She moved her head and mewed. The hunchback wheeled around to look at his cat and then turned to face the direction her eyes led. Harry began to panic with Filch's outstretched arms coming closer. There was no way he could get out of this one.

He heard a sudden clash and looked over his shoulder. The old armor had fallen to the ground, scattering its pieces all over the floor.

"I always knew cats could predict things, but not this well," the man muttered under his breath. He quickly fixed the armor and lifted his cat from the ground. "Come on, Mrs. Norris. We have a long night ahead of us." The black cat held her gaze on the two boys and then turned her head to her master and purred. Filch picked up his lantern with his free hand and limped off into another dark hallway. The corridor became dark once again.

Harry felt cold fingers on his skin prying at his hands. He had forgotten that he was still covering Malfoy's mouth and quickly let go.

"What do you want now, Potter." A frown crept up to Harry's brows.

"Are you mad, Malfoy? I warned you! There are people roaming the floors right now!"

"And I said that I'd like to take that chance." Malfoy replied. His voice was calm and polite, with an expressionless face that revealed nothing. His close resemblance to Lucius Malfoy was stunning, and it made Harry shiver. "If you don't have anything else to say, I'll be leaving now." The blonde lifted the cloak and stepped out, no longer invisible. He turned on his heel and walked on. Harry dropped the cloak to his shoulders, leaned forward, and seized the Slytherin's wrist. Malfoy turned around slowly; impatience seeped through his mask.

"Potter, if you're worried about me tattletaling, then rest assured I won't. Now kindly sod off and let me go." The blonde wrenched at his wrist, but it did not budge.

"You still haven't answered my question. Why were you outside?"

Malfoy eyed the brunet evenly. "What I do with my life is none of your fucking business, Potter. You should try keeping up with your school work rather than spending your precious time stalking me. Now scoot to your cozy dorm, and I'll pretend I never saw you." He pulled his arm free at last, rubbing his wrist.

"Malfoy, I know you're up to something, and I intend to find--" In less than a second, Malfoy had his wand in his hand, its tip pointing at Harry.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Malfoy hissed. The Gryffindor became still at once, his mouth slightly agape. "You look great as a statue, you know that Potter?" the blonde said, looking pleased. "Actually, you would look even better if you switched spots with that old rusty armor, don't you think?" Malfoy scoffed. "Oh, I forgot. You can't speak right now. Well, this should be fun: The Boy-Who-Stood." The blonde raised his wand again, aiming it at the armor and moving it to a nearby pillar. He then levitated Harry onto the platform and put away his wand. He picked up the Invisibility Cloak and examined it, looking at Harry with a smug smile.

* * *

"Don't worry, Potter. I might seem desperate but not to the point where I have to steal. Though I must say, this cloak is quite a nifty thing." He flung the fabric onto the armor and saw it slowly dissolve into thin air. "See how nice I am? If the full-body bind wears off, you can even try to get back to Gryffindor Tower. Let's see. The spell should take about two hours to come off. Have fun!"

Draco strode past portrait after portrait, keeping his footsteps as soft as possible so he wouldn't wake any of them. Potter was a twit, an extremely annoying and obtuse one, too. His appearance just now was a complete surprise to the blonde, despite his instinctive denials. As the initial shock faded, he felt anger growing in the pit of his stomach. He was angry about the fact that Potter had been following him ever since the beginning of the year. He was angry about how trapped and helpless he was. He was angry about his life, about the finite boundaries and countless restrictions, and why everything had to involve Harry Potter one way or another. He was angry. And miserable.

Draco knew why Potter had offered to walk him back to his common room. He spotted pity and sympathy in those emerald eyes, and he hated it. It made him feel weak and undetermined. He must have looked extremely pathetic if he were eliciting empathy from his rivals--especially Harry Potter. There should have been sniggers and humiliation and a fight where they took turns landing punches on each other. But instead there was only silence and a green that burned when looked into.

He had hoped that Potter would be sensible enough to see that he did not want to be disturbed, but clearly he wasn't. It was more frustrating for Draco when the idiot tried to help him. He'd spent almost the whole year wandering the castle at night and had, obviously, grasped the locations of several secret passageways; he could have escaped Filch easily if Saint Potter had not showed up to save the day. He had hoped to lighten his mood after the walk; he could not be more wrong.

Malfoy, I know you're up to something. The voice rang repeatedly in Draco's head. He knew Potter followed him only because he knew something was brewing, but it still hurt. He had only gone outside for some fresh air. He had done nothing wrong, yet the accusation was like acid and made his stomach churn uncomfortably. Hell, none of this was his intention. He had no choice, none at all.

Draco shook his head. There was no way the Gryffindor would believe him anyway. He examined the sleeping portraits to distract himself from his thoughts. One of the figures in the picture on the left had woken, bleary-eyed. The man in the painting sighed and stared at the blonde. He thought he had seen a faint scarlet emerging from underneath the pupils; his breathe hitched immediately. The boy blinked and the dreadful colour disappeared from the portrait's eyes. The figure looked at him, confused, and went back to sleep. The blonde rubbed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, then quickly regretting doing so.

Dead bodies and blood entered his vision as soon as his eyelids shut. He saw broken limbs scattered across the earth and once in a while a stranger's face. He tripped over something and looked down. It was the face of his mother, staring wide-eyed into nothingness. Her robes were torn, and her face was smeared with blood. He found his father's body a few feet away, and Draco fell to the ground, screaming without a voice. He felt the hair on the back of neck stand as an oddly familiar coldness approached him. He tried to get up, tried to run for his life, but his body gave no response. The Dark Lord was behind him; he could sense his presence. Draco knew what was coming. The Dark Lord was a being of solitude; the Dark Lord needed no one.

"Avada Kedavra."

The world became black.