Кассандра Клэр - Draco Dormiens

"Right," she said finally. "Sorry to interrupt, I was kind of enjoying all that, but I think we should get out of the wardrobe now. My arm is killing me."

"We can't get out of the wardrobe," said Draco flatly. "It locks from the outside."

Hermione gaped at him. "What do you mean?"

Draco's voice was sharp. "What part of 'it locks from the outside' didn't you understand? Honestly. I thought you were meant to be clever."

"A simple Opening Charm-" "No," said Draco, "this wardrobe's proof against that sort of thing. My father used to lock me in here when I misbehaved as a kid, so I should know."

"Your father sounds horrible."

"Leave my family out of this, Granger," said Draco shortly.

"Granger?" Hermione made a noise of exasperation. "First Harry, now you! Why are both of you acting like you hate me all of a sudden? All I did to Harry was try to save his life, and as for you, I don't know what your grievance is, but-" "You really don't know?" Draco's voice, cold and distant, now sounded like the voice Hermione remembered from innumerable unpleasant hallway encounters at Hogwarts.

"No," she said coldly.

"Lumos," said Draco, and light blossomed from the tip of his wand, illuminating the interior of the wardrobe. Hermione gave a start. Talking to Draco in the dark, she had been imagining his face as she remembered it from school. And now she was face to face with Harry again. The wandlight made his green eyes glow like dark malachite. But he had Draco's angry smile.

"Potter," said Draco shortly, "is being a git for two reasons. One: he hates the idea of being rescued by me. I understand that. I would feel the same way in his position."

"And the second reason?" Hermione said curiously.

"He's jealous," said Draco.

Hermione felt as if her heart had dropped down into her stomach, then rocketed back up and lodged in her throat. "Jealous?" she said faintly. "About what?"

"Don´t be dense, Hermione."

Hermione reached out and caught Dracoś hand, squeezing it tightly. "What are you saying?"

Draco's hand just lay in hers, not moving. "I know what you want to hear," he said. "But is this how you want to hear it?"

Hermione paused. Was this how she wanted to hear that Harry maybe-possibly had feelings for her (or even a feeling — any feeling)? From Draco's unwilling spying into the contents of Harry's head? It was a violation, even if an involuntary one. And then there was the possibility that Draco might be wrong.

She shook her head, and drew her hand out of his. "No," she said.

"Just because I can feel what Harry feels," said Draco unexpectedly, "doesn't mean I've stopped feeling what I feel."

Hermione stared at him. "What do you feel?" she asked — and to her very great surprise, she was as interested in the answer to this question as she had been in the answer to her previous question.

But Draco had lowered his head and she couldn't see his eyes any more, just the light reflecting off Harry's glasses.

"Right now I'm feeling hungry," he said. "Very, very hungry. I haven't eaten since yesterday lunch."

"Oh," said Hermione, obscurely disappointed. She dragged Harryś bag around to where she could get at the zipper. She was now sitting next to Draco. "I brought a little food….I´ve got Chocolate Frogs, butterbeer, and pickles."

Draco made a face. "I said I was hungry, not pregnant."

Hermione stifled a giggle. "Well, itś all we´ve got."

"All right. Well, hand me a butterbeer. Maybe if I drink enough of them I won´t mind being shut up in this wardrobe so much."

Harry followed Lucius Malfoy down the increasingly familiar twisted corridors of the Manor until they reached the drawing-room, where Lucius pulled the trapdoor open and gestured for Harry to come after him. Harry went, being careful not to touch anything. He didn´t want his lack of Malfoy blood setting off any more alarms.

The gray stone steps led down into a cold damp darkness illuminated only by the light from Lucius´ wand. It was like a maze down here: narrow passageways writhed in every direction like a bed of snakes. Harry tried to keep track of where they were going by muttering left, right, right, sharp left, to himself as they turned but he knew this was most likely futile.

Lucius Malfoy spoke only once, as they were passing from one narrow corridor into another, this one decorated with a mosaic of broken marble. "This will be good for your education, boy," he said.

At last they reached the entrance to the dungeon, a huge stone archway sealed off by a rusty iron gate locked by an enormous lock in the shape of two twining serpents. Lucius Malfoy put his hand on it and it popped open, allowing the gate to swing inward. Harry followed Lucius inside.

Lucius walked along the rows of barrel cells that lined the walls of the dungeon, and stopped in front of one, gazing in. Harry stopped behind him, already knowing what he would see.

The cell was a narrow room with drippy-looking stone walls and a straw-covered stone floor. On the far side of the cell was a low stone bench, on which a man was lying.

It was Sirius.

"Hallo, Black," said Lucius, and Sirius sat up. Harry was relieved to see they had taken the Body-Bind curse off him. "Comfortable?"

Sirius growled, long and low, like a dog.

"Right," said Lucius. "It's nice to see that you're proud of the fact you've been an Animagus so long you can no longer speak like a human being."

Sirius turned his head away.

Lucius shook his head in disgust, glanced down, and pulled up the left sleeve of his robe, baring his arm, on which the black skull-and-serpent design of the Dark Mark stood out as clearly as a tattoo. Then he raised it to his face as spoke into it, rather as if it had been a walkie-talkie. "McNair," he barked. "Peter. Where are you?"

The skull on Lucius' arm moved its jaws, and a tinny voice emerged. "We cannot get into the dungeons without you," it said. "We need someone to open the trap door."

"Damn," snapped Lucius. He glanced down at Harry. "Have you got your wand, boy?"

"Yes," said Harry, taking it out and showing it to Lucius.

"Very good, Draco," said Lucius, showing his pointed teeth in a smile. " I'd like you to watch Black until I return with Peter and McNair. If he moves, put the Leg-Locker curse on him. You are old enough to take some responsibility now," he added. "It's time for us to see what you're made of."

Harry suspected this had less to do with giving Draco an opportunity to show what he was made of than the fact that Lucius needed some help and Narcissa was in no shape to pitch in. He was not about to complain, however. "Right, Father," he said. "I´ll be here."

Lucius left, leaving Harry standing there in the dark, twitching with impatience.

As soon as he heard the gate shut behind Lucius in the distance, he darted up to the bars and called, "Sirius! Sirius, don't be scared, it's me-" Sirius raised his head. "Harry," he said. "What have you done to your hair? It looks awful."

Harry choked in surprise. "You recognize me?"

Sirius chuckled. "I'm a dog, Harry," he said. "I can recognize your scent faster than your appearance. I've known you were here since I got here."

Harry rested his head against the bars of the cell. It was a relief to have someone recognize him, even if it was because of the way he smelled.

"Disguising yourself as Lucius Malfoy's son was awfully risky, though," said Sirius disapprovingly. "What did you use? Polyjuice Potion?"

"Sort of," said Harry, and in a rush, he filled Sirius in as quickly as he possibly could on everything that had occurred in the past few days. Sirius listened in silence, occasionally nodding or making an exclamation of surprise, until Harry got to the part where Wormtail and McNair had brought Sirius into Draco's bedroom and Narcissa had promptly fainted.