Winter (Draco x Reader)

Chapter 19- Quirrell's Downfall*

Draco shoved another cobweb out of the way as we made our way down the pitch-black corridor. The flickering halo of light from the tip of my wand was barely enough to see through the dust in the air. 

"How are we going to know where they are?" he asked in a hushed voice. "This place is massive!"

I shrugged. "Hopefully, we'll hear them through the walls. If it comes to what we've been suspecting, I don't think they'll be too discreet."

As if on cue, a crash resonated against the stone walls, making the floor tremble and more dust flake into the musty air. Over the sound of my echoing coughs came a desperate scream of "Ron!" that turned my blood cold. I accelerated, eyes set on the direction the yell seemed to have come from. Draco pulled me to a stop as we reached a crossroads.

"Y/N," he murmured. He didn't need to say more to convey what we both knew.

"It's okay, you're right," I said, stepping back and running my hands through my hair. "We need to think this through. What's your take?"

He seemed surprised I had asked and in different circumstances, I would have felt bad about it. This time around, I offered him a steely glance, my hand gripped tightly around my wand, ready to spring into action. He sighed. "We have no way of knowing where either tunnel leads. I think we should split up-- you go straight on, I'll take the right-- and establish a communications system in case something goes wrong."

I began to frantically rummage through my pockets, clinking and banging as I went. Finally, my fingers clenched around a smooth piece of paper. I triumphantly held it out to him, sucking on my index where I had inadvertently sliced it. 

"It's a present from my mother-- the magical version of talkie-walkies, so to say." A blank look crossed his features and I backtracked. Of course the analogy I had researched for Hermione wouldn't work. "There are two pages. What you write on one will automatically show up on the other, and it'll heat up to warn you. Adequate?"

He nodded and had already begun to go down his assigned path when I called out to him. "Draco, please be careful!"

His trademark smirk crept onto his face, and for once, I was glad to see it. It was something familiar, something normal, something that made it feel like we were enjoying a feast in the Great Hall instead of fighting a three-headed dog that looked like it should have come straight out of Greek mythology. I shook my head complacently and was off, rushing away with purpose.

My road wasn't straight. It wound about and twisted, jutting out in odd places like a gruesome model of the castle's digestive system. More than once, I frightened myself by seeing things that weren't there in the shadows or screeching when a swarm of bats was displaced by my movements. The tunnel rippled upwards, and I ran to the pinprick of light I could see in the distance gratefully, dashing the tears from my eyes.

As I neared it, I could vaguely see the torches illuminating an old, disused chamber, dusted with cobwebs and bound to echo. Just as my foot was about to pass the threshold into the chamber, a larger stone paw, reminiscent of a lion's and ended by sharpened claws to match, took its place. The huge creature it belonged to slid in front of me, blocking the entrance. 

I looked up, mystified, into the strange face of the granite sphinx, that stared back at me impassively. She was beautiful in an oddly animalistic way, with kohl-lined, cool eyes and a mane of curly hair pushed back by a war helmet of times past. Her inflexible mouth opened. "You shall always find me in the past and I can be created in the present, but the future will never taint me. What am I?"

I took a deep breath. What traversed the ages, being created along the way, but couldn't have an impact on the future? I had a prime example right in front of me. "History."