Magic? || Years 5-7

Fiendfyre: The Battle of Hogwarts

Amisty stopped in her tracks, heart in her throat. Draco was here. In the castle. Why the hell was he in the castle?

"That's my wand you're holding, Potter."

She caught her balance on a stack of old, potion-stained textbooks, and crept toward the voices.

"Not anymore," Harry said, panting. "Winners, keepers, Malfoy. Who's lent you theirs?"

"My mother," Draco said.

Harry laughed, airy and detached and not at all amused.

Past the dusty potion kit, tiptoeing around the crumbling bookshelf crammed with old tomes and a threadbare peacoat with patches at the elbows.

"So how come you three aren't with Voldemort?" Harry asked.

Three. Crabbe and Goyle, then. Fingers clenched too tight around the hilt of Echo's wand, Amisty choked back the bile coating the back of her tongue. He had the opportunity to run, to get out of this hell hole, why would he stay—

"We're gonna be rewarded," a new voice said, very soft. It must be Crabbe, Goyle's father had a rasp to it. "We 'ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to 'im."

"Good plan," Harry replied dryly.

Hop over the spilled box of tarnished goblets, don't touch that stuffed bat it's probably cursed. Slip between the towering stacks of wardrobes and cupboards and ruined curtains.

Through a tiny peephole between a shattered mirror and a statue littered with spiderweb fractures, Amisty surveyed the scene.

"So how did you get in here?" Harry asked. His back was to her, edging backward with one hand reaching blind. Draco, shielded by Crabbe and Goyle, standing pale-faced with his wand drawn. All of them were drawn, pointed right at Harry.

"I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden THings all last year," Draco said, something haunted crossing his face. "I know how to get in."

"We was hiding in the corridor outside," Goyle said. "We can do Diss-lusion Charms now! And then," he grinned, a baring of the teeth that didn't quite reach his eyes, "you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum! What's a die-dum?"

"Harry?" Ron said suddenly, echoing off to the right. Amisty jumped, grabbing the statue before it toppled over and gave her away. "Are you talking to someone?"

Crabbe whirled around, pointing his wand at the towers of shattered chairs, old trunks, books, robes, and junk aplenty, and yelled, "Descendo!"

The wall trembled, swaying ominously from side to side. Then toppled over into the aisle where Ron's voice had come from.

"Ron!" Harry shouted.

Off to the left, Hermione screamed, and Amisty felt a sickening lurch in her stomach as her own wall of shelter started to tremble. A goblet went crashing down right by her ear, clipping the edge, and she leaped back with a poorly muffled yelp.

"Finite!" Harry cried, and all at once, the walls steadied.

"No!" Malfoy grabbed Crabbe's arm before he went to repeat the spell. "If you wreck the room you might bury this diadem thing!"

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

"Potter came in here to get it," Draco said with painful slowness, "so that must mean—"

"'Mus mean'?" Crabbe repeated incredulously, turning to Draco with blatant dislike. "Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your dad are finished."