Henrietta Potter || Draco Malfoy

47 - Crabbe's Bright Idea

I swallowed, my hand still hovering over the diadem as Draco's grey eyes fixed upon mine, his expression steely and cold. He too, much to my dismay, had a wand raised in my direction.

"Draco," I whispered, my voice shaky and hoarse. "Please don't do this-"

"We're gonna be rewarded," Crabbe jumped in; his face ugly and gleeful. He looked at me almost greedily; licking his fat, slimy lips. "We 'ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to 'im."

My heart thudded violently against my ribs as my eyes flicked back to Draco's, trying desperately to search for something resembling warmth in his features. But he remained impassive and emotionless, his wand still pointed determinedly at me. If he was putting on a show, he was doing a remarkable job.

"How did you know I was in here?" I asked, not taking my eyes off him, trying to stall for time as I attempted to calculate my next move.

"We was hiding in the corridor outside," grunted Goyle. "We can do Diss-lusion Charms now! And then, you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum! What's a die-dum?"

I closed my eyes, resisting the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up.

"Etta?" Ron's voice echoed suddenly from the other side of the wall to my right. "Are you talking to someone?"

With a whip-like movement, Crabbe pointed his wand at the fifty-foot mountain of crap and shouted, "Descendo!"

To my horror, the wall began to totter, then crumbled into the aisle next door where Ron stood.

"Ron!" I bellowed, as I heard Hermione screaming from somewhere I couldn't see. I grabbed my wand, pointing it at the falling towers, cried, "Finite!" and steadied it.

But as I had turned my back, it had seemed that Crabbe had been ready to cause more havoc.

"No!" Draco shouted, and as I whipped around, I could see him restraining Crabbe's arm. "If you wreck the room, you might bury this diadem thing!"

His eyes briefly met mine and I was relieved to see the steeliness had gone, replaced instead, though, by sheer panic. Whatever his plan had been, it was clearly going wrong.

"What's that matter?" Crabbe said, tugging himself free. "It's Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?"

"Potter came in here to get it," Draco said impatiently, as if he was talking to a three-year-old, "so that must mean-"

"′Must mean?'" Crabbe looked at Draco in disgust. "Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Malfoy. You an' your dad are finished."

"Etta?" Ron shouted again, from the other side of the junk wall. "What's going on?"

"Etta?" Crabbe mimicked. "What's going- no, Potter! Crucio!"

I had lunged for the tiara when that bastard shot a curse at me. Luckily, it had missed me, but the flipping diadem flew into the air and then dropped out of sight amongst a mass of crap. Ugh, fucking Crabbe.

"STOP!" Draco shouted at Crabbe, his voice echoing through the enormous room. "The Dark Lord wants her alive-"

"So? I'm not killing her, am I?" Crabbe yelled, throwing off Draco's restraining arm once again, "but if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants her dead anyway, what's the diff-"

He was cut off as a Stunning Spell grazed his left ear. Hermione appeared round the corner, breathless and sweaty as she attempted to fire another jinx.

"Fucking Mudblood!" he growled, his eyes bulging in fury as he raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"

Hermione dived aside from Crabbe's green light just in time. Utterly fuming, I threw a Stunning Spell at him, but he lurched out of the way, and then he turned on me, lifting his wand, pure hatred in his beady eyes.