The Hearts Eclipse

Chapter 1: Predator and Prey

If the corridors of Hogwarts were interesting during the day, they were nothing short of breathtaking at night. The very walls shimmered faintly with the ethereal glow of residual magic. The shadows themselves seemed to hold things that just could not be there in the light, tricking the senses with hints that something was hiding in their darkest corners. Tonight, that just happened to be true. Draco Malfoy cared nothing for the splendid scenery of Hogwarts at night. He had left the dungeons behind for a long-awaited mission, and the promise of sweet revenge. Earlier that day, at the end of potions class, he had managed to slip Potter's potions assignment out of the other boy's bag. The assignment was due the next day, and if Potter wanted any chance of passing the class, he would have to go looking for it. When he did, Draco would be waiting for him. It was so simple. So simple, yet so masterfully executed. Now, all he had to do was to wait.

He squinted through the shadows, searching for any sign of motion from the large portrait hanging serenely on the wall, dividing Gryffindor tower from the rest of Hogwarts. Straining his hearing, he could just make out the rhythm of the Fat Lady snoring softly in her frame. Other than that the only sound to be heard was the subdued thrumming of his own pulse in his ears. Carefully balancing on his toes, steadying himself with one hand, Draco was fully alert. He had never been so thoroughly prepared for anything in his life. The potion he had administered to himself had negated his need for sleep; he could wait all night if necessary, and never falter. Being Snape's favorite student had its advantages, his favorite benefit being access to all the potions supplies. Hidden under his shirt was an unusual pendant his father had insisted he wear for this mission. It rendered all sorts of tracking charms completely useless, and should keep him completely hidden from magical detection until he and Potter were far from Hogwarts. In addition, his own skills and stealth should keep him hidden from any other means of detection. He reached down slowly and brushed his hand against the hilt of the small dagger tucked into the sheath on his belt, carefully concealed under his robes. The blade had been laced with a Freezing Potion of his own design. That brew had earned him top marks for his O.W.L.'s. Now, it would earn him Potter.

A sudden scraping noise caused him to blink, but otherwise elicited no further reaction. The portrait frame swung gently back and away from the wall with a high-pitched creak, causing the Fat lady to stir, but not wake. Slowly, the painting settled back into its place against the wall, even though it would appear to a casual onlooker that nobody had emerged. Draco's smile became a little wider. So, Potter had his invisibility cloak. It made no difference to Draco; it helped him in fact. Potter would be feeling more confident, concealed as he was, and would naturally be less cautious. Careless prey is always easier to catch. He heard the scuffling of shoes on the stone floor and the soft swishing of fabric in the still air. A good predator knows exactly when and where to strike. It's evolution; survival of the fittest. Knowing when to wait, when to frighten, when to run, and when to make the fatal blow. He would follow Potter to just the right place, and then strike he would. Potter was about to find himself falling to the bottom of the food chain.

Harry meanwhile, was running through a silent string of curses in his head. Finding himself short by a fair few, he ran through the choicest selections from the list again. He couldn't believe he had done it. Of all the stupid things, how could he have managed to lose his potions assignment? Of all the subjects, and of all the times, why did it have to be Potions the day before it was due in? Even worse, this was only the first assignment of the year! He would swear to anyone that he had put it in his bag at the end of class, but that evening, when he and Ron had dumped their books out in front of the fireplace to begin their homework, the parchment had been gone. It had taken him all week to write just those fourteen inches of script, and there was no way he could have rewritten it in one night. Hermione might have helped him with it, but instead she insisted that it would teach him to be responsible for his belongings if he were to deal with the situation for himself. So now, here he was. Hunting for bloody thing.