The Boy Who Made the Right Choice

1- First night back

Bright orange flames cackled in the fireplace of the Slytherin common room, while a certain platinum-haired boy sat on the floor beside it. "I bet 10 galleons that the Hogwarts champion is gonna be a bloody Gryffindork." Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes at his friends who were all on the Slytherin green quilted sofa in front of him.

"I dunno," Blaise chucked the last bite of his pumpkin pastie into his mouth. "It could be a Slytherin."

Draco grinned. "I'll bet 10 galleons to each of you four, that it's gonna be someone from Gryffindor." He waved a pointed finger at Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle who all nodded as if agreeing sarcastically.

"By the way Draco," Pansy leant forward in her seat. "we never heard back from you after the Quidditch World Cup - I was legit gonna tell my father to send out search parties when you didn't respond to my letters-"

"Yeah, yeah, alright, I know!" Draco cut her off before her voice rose too high. "And I'm sorry for scaring you, but I was almost interrogated by the ministry for days after the ambush."

"Why would they interrogate you?"

Draco sighed at the question. "Because they had high suspicions that I was the one who snuck the Death Eaters past the protective enchantments. Something about 'being young but clever enough to pull it off'." He shrugged. "Anyway, father still won't let me know what that was all about- just that he's been meeting with some old aquaintences..."

"And would that mean Death Eater aquaintinces by chance?" Blaise raised an eyebrow and Draco sighed again.

"Maybe, but I don't see the big deal; the Dark Lord was killed 13 years ago, what're they gonna do? The odds of them meeting up to discuss ways of bringing a dead man back to life are about as impossible as my father hosting a karaoke princess party for ex-Death Eaters."

Pansy snorted then knitted her eyebrows together. "Isn't that Karakoff guy -the headmaster of Durmstrang- isn't he a former Death Eater?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's Karkaroff Pansy, get your facts straight!" He snapped, and Pansy rolled her eyes back at him. "And, yeah, he was one of the Dark Lord's most trusted followers, so what?"

"Well, he's the headmaster of one of the visiting schools," Blaise started. "and you may not have noticed, but every five minutes during the feast he was eyeing you weirdly."

Draco fiddled with his wand in his hands that were propped up on his knees. "Maybe he just recognizes me? I know he and father knew each other well."

"Think we should check what he's up to?" Draco and Pansy and Blaise looked toward where Crabbe was visibly hiding something behind his back.

"What's that?" Draco shuffled over slightly.

Goyle nudged Crabbe, and they both gave Draco a proud look, so wide they looked as though their mouths were going to fall off their faces. Crabbe pulled out an old folded peice of parchment and handed it to Draco who eyed it with furrowed eyebrows.

"What's this rubbish?" And Crabbe and Goyle snickered while Draco and Pansy and Blaise exchanged confused glances at eachother.

"What's this rubbish he says?" Goyle mocked. "That there is the secret to how Potter always knows where people are." Draco raised an eyebrow questionly. "Crabbe, if you will."

Crabbe pulled out his wand and thought for a moment, as if remembering something, then pointed his wand at the blank parchment and muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

As if on command, ink-colored drawings of random foot print trails and the Hogwarts castle appeared on the front page, with a title reading: "Messrs, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present: The Marauders' Map?" Draco read aloud. "Hey... isn't this Potter's?"