Friend

Hermione glanced down the corridor. When she was quite sure that there was nobody else around she made her way to the Great Hall. She had heard all the rumours about the new stage but was too embarrassed to go there in the day in case she ran into Professor Snape. When she saw it, she stepped back in awe. It was beautiful. She climbed up the steps and ran her fingers along the red velvet curtains.

"Helga!" a voice called out to her.

She turned to face Draco Malfoy. "Salazar," she whispered, then turned away.

Draco walked up to her and pulled a stray curl from away from her face. "Helga, you know what must be done. You know that Rowena and that fool Gryffindor will not see it any way other than their own."

"It's not right," she said quietly.

"We have to destroy the school."

"They will die. They will all die. They're just children. It shouldn't be so." She turned from him again and he spun her round.

"Listen to me, Helga. When we started this school we were all in agreement. Why keep something that ruins our bond? It is of no importance to us anymore. They have to be destroyed."

There was a crash at the back of the hall and the curtains fell sharply on the stage.

Pansy picked herself up from the floor and ran. She had only wanted to see where Draco was going, but she had seen more than she had bargained for.

***

Snape looked at Pansy. It was true she seemed genuinely startled, but he wouldn't trust her as far as he could throw her.

"Miss Parkinson, you are not making any sense."

"Honestly, sir! They were acting weird like they were in a trance."

"And why, Miss Parkinson, were you wandering around the school in the middle of the night? I may choose to see that as suspicious, also."

"I... I was looking for Draco. I followed him and he went straight to the stage. Then I hid under a table and Hermione came in. Then they went all strange. Well Hermione is strange anyway but you know what I mean..."

"Miss Parkinson!" Snape warned.

"I swear, I am telling you the truth."

"Go back to your dorm," he said finally. "I have a show to see."

***

As he stared at the empty stage Snape sighed. Everything was how he had left it, the curtains were swept back and there were no signs of footprints. "Parkinson," he muttered aloud. "I should know better than to listen to her."

He was about to leave when he noticed a shadow sweep behind the stage. "Who's there?" he called out into the darkness. He stormed over to the stage and was faced with the surprising sight of Lowri Wych and a pair of scissors.

"What an earth are you doing?"

Lowri looked at Snape, then at the scissors which she quickly hid behind her back. "I'm helping."

"Helping?"

"I'm helping with the show."

"By cutting the ropes holding the curtains up?" Snape tried to remain calm.

"They deserved it," she suddenly burst into tears.

"To die?"

"No, worse than that. To suffer complete humiliation in front of everyone by having their play ruined."

Snape was lost for words. "Do you think I want there to be a play? No! Do you see me wandering about, trying to sabotage the stage in the middle of the night? No! So what entitles you to bring down the curtain?"

"They were mean to me. All of them," she sobbed. "Then Draco found out that my father and his father used to be old bullies together and Draco started to be nice to me and helped me plot my revenge. He's supposed to be keeping you away. He's not doing a very good job."

'So that's what Draco's little charade was about,' Snape thought to himself. "I thought you were ill?" he turned his attention back to Lowri.

"I'm fine now. I can't actually remember the fall, though. Just suffering from a bit of memory loss and headaches but I'm OK. Oh and I've been experiencing some memory loss, too. I can't remember the fall."

"Then I hope, Miss Wych, that your memory can remember the following, because if it doesn't then you will be in deeper trouble than you are now. Six weeks detention and I'm sure I can find you a starring role in the play."

"No, please anything but that..."

"My mind is made up. Now I suggest you return to your dorm. The first rehearsal is at 4am. That should give you at least two hours full sleep," he smirked.

She turned and left.

He was about to follow when he noticed a small piece of folded paper tucked neatly under a chair. 'Violetts are blue, Roseses are red, How can they act, When they'll all be dead?'

"I suggest you consult a dictionary before your next threatening letter. It takes the edge off what your trying to say," he said into the emptiness as he left the hall.