Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

"Just do it," said Draco, who was now looking under Lupinś desk.

"And fast. We need to get out of here as quickly as possible. Why don´t you two go on back to our room and we´ll meet you there in a few minutes. Take the invisibility cloak." He popped his head up over the desk, saw the three of them preparing to leave, and hastily added, "Potter. You stay here with me."

Harry paused. "All right," he said, stepping back into the office. Ron and Ginny turned to look at him; he shrugged, and they drew the cloak up over themselves, vanishing from sight.

The office door opened and closed behind them, and Harry turned back to Draco, who was emerging from underneath Lupinś desk, carrying the adamantine case that held Slytherinś sword. There was a bright light in his eyes, and Harry felt a vague stab of apprehension run through him.

"Come on, Potter," said Draco. "Help me get this thing open."

"I thought the Dark Mark was Voldemortś symbol," said Hermione, looking at Wormtail. She had decided that there was no point in not saying Voldemortś name, considering that she had somehow managed to get herself kidnapped by the one wizard in history who had been even worse.

Slytherin, who seemed to have no use for a wand (of course not, she thought, heś a Magid, just like Harry) had bound her arm to Wormtailś and ordered them both to follow him out of the room.

They were currently all three walking down a long stone corridor, towards what destination, Hermione could only imagine. Slytherin walked ahead, of course, and she and Wormtail followed behind.

"He didn´t invent it," said Wormtail, who was looking very smug. "It belonged first to Slytherin. Almost everything the Dark Lord ever did was borrowed from Slytherin."

"You´re sounding awfully smug," said Hermione. "Aren´t you worried that Voldemort will be angry with you for betraying him?"

"No," said Wormtail, his smirk stretching into a very unattractive leer. "Slytherin is twice as powerful as Voldemort was even in his prime. The old order cometh again, and the new order passeth away," he added, and giggled. "If you haven´t noticed," he went on, "history is repeating itself. Thereś no point fighting it. All this was foretold. Dumbledore knows it. Why do you think he — "

He broke off, as Salazar Slytherin halted and turned to look at them.

His skeletal face was expressionless. They had come to the end of the hallway, which opened out into a large round room hung with tapestries. "Wormtail," said Slytherin, his buzzing voice echoing off the stone walls. "Please wait for us farther down the hallway. I wish to show something to my guest." He waved a hand at Hermione, and the ropes tying her to Wormtail vanished. "Come here," he said to her, and she did, dimly aware of Wormtail walking away.

"I wanted you to see this," said Slytherin, pointing at the largest of the tapestries hanging against the far wall. "Maybe it will help you understand."

The tapestry showed four figures standing together under a woven archway. They were young. In their twenties, at most. They faced Hermione, smiling, as if they were posing for a photograph. The man on the left she knew immediately. There was a portrait of him hanging in the Gryffindor common room. Tall and handsome with black hair and a black beard, dressed in gold and scarlet. Godric Gryffindor, looking a great deal like Harry.

Then there was a round, red-haired woman who looked friendly and kind and wore robes of yellow. She reminded Hermione strongly of Mrs. Weasley. Of course, she was Helga Hufflepuff.

Then there was another man. He wasn't as tall as Godric, and he looked like he knew it. He had black hair as well, and a fierce scowl appeared on his mouth. If he hadn't been scowling, he might have been handsome too. He wore black and silver, and snakes carved from silver metal wound up and down each of his arms. His eyes were silver, too. He was the one Wormtail had called the greatest of the Hogwarts Four. He didn't look like someone aware of his own greatness. He looked desperately unhappy.

But it was the fourth woman in the tapestry who had caught Hermione's attention. She stood between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and she wore robes of dark blue. In her hands she carried several books, and her extremely curly hair was knotted in braids around her head. There was an ink stain on her cheek, and it didn´t look like a flaw in the tapestry. She was pretty, although not extraordinarily so, but she looked somehow very…alive. Does she look like me? thought Hermione wonderingly. A little, she conceded.

Certainly they were not dead ringers for each other. Rowena Ravenclaw's eyes were blue. But there was something. There was definitely something.

Of course, that didn't make Salazar Slytherin — or what was left of him — any less mad.

He looked down at her and she saw the Dark Mark tattoos standing out livid and horrible on his fleshless face. She wanted to shudder, but it wasn´t the same sort of shudder that Voldemort had inspired in her. Salazar Slytherin was quite horrible, and by all accounts had been evil beyond belief, and there was no doubt that he terrified her. And yet Hermione found that she felt, somehow…sorry for him.

Not much. But a little.

"Now," he said. "I want to tell you a story."

Draco pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes and cursed under his breath. So far the adamantine case had yielded to none of their blandishments. Draco had tried Opening Spells, Smashing Hexes, and had even attempted to perform Crushing Charms with both himself and Harry holding the wand at the same time. Nothing had happened. Draco had wanted to try a Whirlwind Charm, but Harry pointed out that these couldn´t be controlled very well and that he might well blast them both out the window.

So Draco had given up on trying to open the case magically and had started trying to break it in half by bashing it against the stone walls. This had done nothing except give him a sharp pain in his wrists. Furious, he had thrown the case on the ground and started jumping up and down on it with both feet, cursing.

When he finally looked up, panting, Harry was grinning at him.

"What?" said Draco irritably. "What is it?"

"You look ridiculous," said Harry, shaking his head.

Draco paused, looking thoughtful. "Do I?"

"Itś all right," said Harry. "Not much else makes me laugh these days."

Draco stopped jumping and looked at Harry with a very peculiar expression. "Do I make you laugh?"

Harry shrugged. "Itś nothing to get all excited about, Malfoy."

"Itś just — " Draco sighed. "I feel guilty."

"Guilty?" said Harry uneasily. "What about?"

Draco got down off the case, reached down to pick it up, and approached Harry, looking extremely anxious. "Potter," he said, "Thereś something I´ve got to tell you."

Harry looked at him in surprise. Draco was holding the case clutched against his chest as if it was a baby, and his eyes were enormous and pained. Harry had never in his life seen an expression like that on Dracoś face. He looked as if he had swallowed a nail. "Wha-what do you have to tell me, Malfoy?" he said. "Are you all right? Are you dying? What?"

"Itś about Hermione," said Draco. "I´m just — you´ve been so, well, trusting about Hermione and I being friends, and I´ve started to feel guilty. I mean, it wasn´t anything really, it was just that once — "

Harry goggled at him. "Just that once WHAT?"

Draco looked acutely embarrassed. "Come on, Potter, don´t make me spell it out."

"No," said Harry, very coldly. "Spell it out. Spell it out, Malfoy.

Because I don´t understand."

"Look," said Draco, "it was just that once, I think she really felt bad about it afterwards. You know, it doesn´t mean she doesn´t love you."