Draco Malfoy x Reader - Your Years At Hogwarts

The Trap Door

It had been weeks since your incident at the forest. But it played on your mind, what Firenze had said: 'If the wrong person catches you'. What could he have meant by that? The Thornheart name was valuable, but who would benefit off of...

Ransoming you? Is that was Firenze meant?

You were starting to pull at your hair, making a few of the strands fall out onto the paper below you. A boy behind you, Neville, had spilt his ink twice on his paper, forcing him to start his assessment over again. You did feel a little sorry for the boy - he was so ridiculously stupid.

You had already completed your practical, a forgetfulness potion. Professor Snape was breathing down your neck the whole time, which made you even more nervous for the outcome. You did okay, better than Draco anyway. 

The written work, though, was tough. Naming tens of potion ingredients and which potions they make, and the effects of them were very hard to remember.

The history of magic exam was easier. One hour of answering questions about boring old wizards who'd invented Self-Stirring Cauldrons and then you were free. At least you could safely say that you had answered most of the questions correctly.

The transfiguration exam was by far the most fun. Not that exams were fun. You had to turn a little white mouse into a snuff box, and McGonagall was giving students extra points if their snuff box was pretty. Hermione's was encrusted with little black pearls, which Professor McGonagall must have liked, because she gave her loads of extra points.

By the time it had got around to marking yours, you had managed to get rid of the whiskers on your box, and added a few different patterns in the outside suede material of the box. You got fifty extra points, which was twenty more than Hermione. You could tell she was hurt by receiving the second in class, but she clapped anyway, happy for you.

During the casting time, your Slytherin ring had almost come off of your finger, it would have been a disaster if you accidentally hit that will the spell. Your Grandmother would kill you. She held possessions of your mother's dear to her, making sure no visitors touched them.

***

It was lunchtime and you were sitting in the library, reading up for your herbology exam when Hermione walked in and sat down next to you. You could see Draco laugh with his friends, no doubt calling you a blood-traitor and all sorts of other names. If you weren't with Hermione you would have walked over there and slapped him hard across the cheek, but Hermione grabbed your arm and faced you to look at her.

"(Y/n)." she said, trying to ease the anger boiling up inside of you. You could see the concern and sorrow in her eyes. She had done this to you, turned you into a 'blood-traitor' in the eyes of your peers. But blood didn't bother you. What did, was what Hermione next said.

"(Y/n), please can you meet us on the third floor tonight?" she said, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. You were reluctant at first, but with a lot of her pleading and well thought out arguments, you agreed to come along.

***

"What are we doing exactly?" you asked Harry, who was running towards the forbidden area on the third floor. He could see the reluctance on your face.

"(Y/n)," he said, scratching the back of his head, "We are going into the forbidden area because we think that Snape might try to steal the philosopher's stone that Dumbledore put there."

You nodded. You didn't like people accusing your head of house of things he didn't do, but you decided it was probably best to go with them on this one. You were almost certain that Snape wouldn't have tried to steal the stone.

The four of you stepped up to the door.

"Alohamora!" Hermione said, smiling with satisfaction as the lock of the door clicked open.

You went wide eyed. A three headed dog, black and huge, was sleeping just at your feet. His yellowed teeth were bared, drool drooping from his mouth. A golden harp was playing in the corner of the room, its strings strumming themselves in a melodic tune.

This must have been the 'fluffy' that Hagrid was talking about.

"He's been here already!" said Ron, shaking his head in disbelief. His red hair was almost unnoticeable in the dingy light. 

"Maybe we should just go through the trap door." said Hermione, turning the the rest of you.

"No," whispered Harry "it can't be that simple."

"Maybe it could be." you said, shrugging your shoulders. It felt too quiet. The harp in the corner of the room was still, the strings no longer being plucked. There was no music.

The dog was on his feet in an instant, baring his three sets of yellowed teeth down at you in a horrific fashion. His greenish eyes were enraged to see the people who has stopped his music. 

"Harry," said Hermione in a very quiet voice "Use your flute." You swallowed. Your life was now very dependant on the little brown flute that Harry was holding in his left hand. He played a few off tune notes. The dog sat down and fell back to sleep again, his new music the few awful notes Harry was able to play on the flute. 

The three of you ran over to the hatch, Harry still using his flute, and opened it. A waft of dust and mould had the three of you coughing and spluttering. Once the dust had cleared, the three of you jumped down, Harry quickly following, and landed on a soft pile of weeds.

"Owww!" said Ron, rubbing his elbow.

The room was small, the walls carved with funny designs that you didn't know how to describe. The floor was made of black weeds that you couldn't stand up on. They were slippery under your feet, stopping you from walking, almost sucking you in.

You felt your foot sink a little. They were sucking you in!

You jumped, trying to escape the weeds as fast as you could. "Devil's snare!" you shouted to Hermione, who looked just as scared as you did. What do you do when your caught in a devil's snare? Your mind was racing. You could see Hermione's concentration too as she tried to remember back to the herbology exam you had earlier.

"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare...what did Professor Sprout say? - it likes the dark and damp." you said, trying to sound confident as you did. You could see Hermione nodding from across the room.

"So light a fire!" Harry said, trying to free his arm from the tangled mess of the plant. Ron was in the corner of the room, silenced by a stem that was wrapped over his mouth. He was rocking back and forward, trying to rescue himself from the shrub.

"Yes - of course - but there's no wood!" said Hermione, who was in the middle of the mess, her wand at the ready. Ron had managed to clear his mouth of the snare.

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD!? ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT!?" screamed Ron who looked like he was about to be engulfed by the plant.

"Oh, right" Hermione said, rather calmly for your taste. She took out her wand "Lumos Solem!" she said, pointing her wand at the centre of the plant. Rays of sunlight burst vibrantly from the end of her wand, illuminating the room you were in. The devil's snare recoiled, sensing the light, moving as far back into the darkness as possible.

The three of you clambered up, moving to the edge of the room where the snare couldn't reach. There was an oak wood door next to you.

"I guess we should move on." Harry said.

***

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