Destinia: First Year at Hogwarts

Chapter 7: Midnight Anger

Draco paced up and down his dormitory, deep in thoughts. Earlier that evening, he had challenged Potter to a Wizard's duel. He wasn't planning to go, never had that intention, but he had the feeling Potter would and that had kept him busy for a good hour already.

     Pansy exhaled deeply from her place on Draco's bed. "Stop the pacing and read the bloody book if you want an answer," she half-shouted in irritation. Honestly, how would you feel if there was someone walking in front of you for an hour?

     Draco looked up at her, his eyes wide. "Why didn't you say that earlier!" he exclaimed, hurrying towards his nightstand and grabbing the book. Pansy raised her eyebrows.

     "Did you really not consider it?" she questioned, looking incredulous at Draco. Draco sighed and sat up against the headboard of his bed.

     "No, I did not, Pansy. And I would appreciate it if you'd let me read," he said and started reading as Pansy didn't do more than huff.

     A few minutes later, Draco gasped at a line that read: '"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."', catching Pansy's attention.

     She turned to him and asked, as if in a hurry, "What? What is it?"

     Draco raised his hand and read a few more sentences before looking up at the girl. "I have to tell Filch they're coming," he half-whispered, as if in shock. Come to think of it, he might have been in a slight state of shock at that moment.

     Pansy looked at him incredulously. "You have to do what?! Tip them off to Filch? What good comes from that?"

     Draco shrugged, but showed a sudden desperation. This was what the book wanted him to do, so this is what he would do. He looked at Pansy and said, "I'm going now," before leaving the room and walking through the common room, out in the corridors of the dungeons.

     There he started his search for Filch. He didn't have to search long as all he had to do was follow Mrs Norris, who had luckily found him quite soon, right to him.

     "Mr Filch?" he called out as he was in earshot.

     The caretaker turned to him with a disgruntled look on his face. "What's the matter, boy? Painting fallen? Toilet flooded? Spit it out."

     That took Draco aback slightly but not for too long as he answered only mere seconds later. "No, nothing of that kind. I only wanted to inform you of a meeting from a couple of first-years in the trophy room at midnight," he finished quickly, feeling slightly bad and guilty about handing them — mostly Potter — over.

     This time, it was Filch who looked taken aback. It took him a short moment longer before an odd, lob-sided smile formed on his old, tattered and ugly lips. "I shall see to them, boy!" he exclaimed before turning around and stumbling away.

     It was with a deep feeling of guilt that Draco went to sleep that night, and he could hardly think of the problems Potter would get, not knowing since he hadn't finished it yet. Sleeping was even worse since his dreams were solely about Potter! Potter this, Potter that! It was starting to seriously annoy Draco, and he sleepily wished for the morning to come soon.

And so it did. Draco woke up early the next morning and looked at the clock to see the arm at five. He sighed and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his hands. He quietly crawled to the end of his bed, towards his trunk, and opened it to take out freshly washed robes. He soundlessly got dressed, pocketed his wand, and grabbed the book and the other things. He sat down behind his desk and started reading, reminding himself to immediately write the important pages so as not having to reread the chapter.