What If (Drarry)

8. Bloody Hell

Draco spent the next few days searching for Harry's Cloak. It seemed to be quite a good distraction. While he was focusing on not to be caught, he couldn't think about the boy's words. Or about that night in general. He was still scared of that strange feeling he'd felt when Harry touched him. And - whatever hard he tried to deny it - he really wanted to go back and feel his light, soothing touch on his shoulder again.

But he couldn't afford it. First he had to find the Cloak. He hadn't been down to Harry since that ominous last visit, though more than two days had passed.

He'd already searched through all the empty 'classrooms', though he was totally aware that there was a ridiculously low chance to find the Cloak there. But he wanted to make sure... Yeah, but to be more honest, he was terrified to break in a Death Eater's private room.

But he had to. He knew perfectly well, that to find Harry's Cloak, he had to do it. And if he wanted to be honest to himself, he knew exactly where he had to search.

He snuck up to the fifth floor. There was again a meeting down in the 'Great Hall', and since the Death Eaters still wasn't entirely convinced about his trustworthiness, he wasn't allowed to take part in it. But Draco wasn't subdued at all. On the contrary, he used his free time to go and get the Cloak.

The fifth floor was deserted. Draco could hear the eerie sound of silence. He shuddered. His father's room was in the end of the corridor. He stalked near to it and examined the door. It seemed normal. No sign of any extraordinary. But Draco knew his father. He wouldn't let anyone to just simply break in his room.

Draco tapped his wand on the door. He felt magic radiating from it.

"So he indeed locked it." he muttered.
"Alohomora!"

Though he knew nothing would happen, he wanted to try it.

The door remained still and closed. Draco sighed. He didn't know much opening spells. Though he knew one. His father taught it to him when he was younger. A really strong spell that Lucius's father had invented. It had a pair, a closing spell. If Draco was right, his father used this particular spell on his door to keep unwanted visitors away. Draco smiled to himself and flicked his wand in a quite complicated way. "Patentibus!"

The door cracked and swung open, revealing a spacious room.

"Accio Cloak!" he tried but nothing happened.

Draco hurried to the vast mahagony wardrobe standing opposite the door, and carefully started to rummage in it. He found elegante dress robes, a couple of plain black Death Eater's robes, but no sign of the Invisibility Cloak. Draco replaced everything back where they were, as if he'd never been there, and attacked the desk in the middle of the room. All its drawers were closed. Draco cast the opening charm.

In the first drawer he couldn't find anything interesting. A few rolls of parchment, ink bottles... He didn't even understand why his father locked this drawer.

In the second one however, he discovered old looking maps, potions recipes, books and some very rare potions ingredients. But no cloak.

He reached for the third drawer to open, when he heard noises. Heavy footsteps were nearing to the room. Draco panicked. He looked down at the drawer and up at the door. The footsteps grew louder and louder. There was no chance to get out of the room unnoticed. He had to hide somewhere. Quickly!

He spotted a dark curtain hung in front of the windows. Not the best idea, he knew, but quickly he hid behind it. Just in time. The next second he heard the footsteps stopping right in front of the door, then a short pause, and the door swung open.