The Darkwood Wand

Dungeons

Draco could do a wandless Accio if the object was close and in sight. He'd lay down the wand, lure out the cat, then summon the wand and Petrify the horrid beast.

He approached the bed. "This is my wand," Draco said loudly. "My wand. This is what I use to cast magic." Always best to be clear with stupid animals.

"I'm going to put my wand on the bed. That way I can't hex you, right?" He laid the wand on the rumpled coverlet. "There. My wand is on my bed. Now get out here."

No response. Dumb thing didn't understand. Maybe he should ...

A tiny mew spun Draco around and he staggered to keep his footing. But it was only his silver inkpots, now sporting both ears and tails and meowing for attention. A rustling behind him, and Draco turned again to see the orange cat drop from the bed canopy. It was sniffing his wand and—

"PUT THAT DOWN!" Draco shouted.

The cat turned, Draco's darkwood wand now in its mouth, golden eyes glittering with ill-intent.

Draco flung out a hand. "Accio wand!" But the wandless spell was too weak, and the animal's grip too tight.

"If you leave a single tooth mark on that wand, I'll have you skinned and stuffed," Draco growled.

Cranky's eyes narrowed, but it didn't move. Draco edged toward his bureau, where the harlequin and snakewood wands lay in separate drawers. The cat snarled, looking ready to snap the darkwood in half.

"Fine." Draco pulled on a black jumper and shoved his feet into embroidered slippers. "I'll lead you out of the dungeons and you'll return my wand. Alright?"

He received a slow, malevolent blink in return, which Draco considered progress. The wizard waved over a floating candle and opened the bedroom door. "Come on, then."

The animal jumped off the bed and pranced out of the room, wand still in its jaws, its tail stiffly raised. Draco stepped into the corridor and closed the door.

Outside the door was a short, straight passage leading down a flight of stairs. Cat and candle followed him to a green door, where Draco whispered the Greek word for snake-eater: "Ophiophagus."

The door led into the rest of the shadowy dungeon, lit by the occasional small torch. Slytherin's winding corridors were also famously convoluted. First Years often found themselves lost, missing meals and classes (especially this year's batch), but Draco knew the maze intimately. He flexed his fingers, missing his wand: The dungeons crawled with dangerous familiars at this hour.

The cat hissed from behind him and Draco halted. A magical Black Tortoise was crossing the narrow corridor before them. Its needle-like teeth glowed in the dim torchlight, six snake-like appendages writhing out from under the shell. Neither Draco nor the cat moved, waiting for seemingly an eternity until all sounds of hissing and snapping faded away.

They took more than a dozen turns and climbed two staircases, seeing nothing but a few spiders, which Cranky looked inclined to chase. Draco snarled at it to keep moving—or would the cat rather meet the Black Tortoise again? Or Davis' pygmy crocodile?

Another short staircase, a curved ramp and then a final turn. The door to the Slytherin common room appeared at the end of a long corridor. Draco halted, sensing something in the air, but that cursed Gryffindor cat just streaked ahead.

"Get back here!" Draco hissed.

Granger's pet was now several meters ahead of Draco, and the attack came with no warning. A long shadow dropped down between Draco and the cat, and the furry animal stopped and turned, the wand in its mouth sparking.