Noir Evans

Chapter 6: Fenrir

"What are you reading there, Potter?"

Within the moment, Harry had the 'attacker' pinned up against the shelf of books behind him with his wand pressed at the persons throat.

"Wh-what are you doing w-with that?"

Upon realizing who it was, he stifled a smirk and packed away his book. Having Draco Malfoy, of all people, knowing of his endeavors involving the Dark Arts wouldn't fare well. If he had it his way, he would be Obliviated. Unfortunately, Harry didn't do so well with the Light Arts and memories were a tricky business.

He shoved the book back into his bag and clipped his wand back into his dragonhide wand holster before turning back to the blond, who given enough time, straightened up into his normal cold gaze perfected to intimidate and scare. Harry, on the other hand, was busy filtering through his mind. He found a separate collection filled with meetings with the Dark Lord. He found things that seemed very interesting indeed. Involving certain cabinet in a certain room of Requirement. Harry pulled out of his schoolmate's mind and closed his grey rucksack.

Draco felt odd in a sense and slightly disorientated in his mind but he couldn't pinpoint why. Brushing it off as stress, he turned to the boy that had surprisingly managed to hold him, a pureblooded tranied Death Eater, at wand-point in the blink of an eye. Even as his enemy, he had to admit that...he was good; ready at least. There was no way he was telling anyone. It would damage his reputation too much.

"Apologies, Malfoy," the corner of his lips twitched upward, "Reflexes." Harry shrugged.

Unable to respond, Malfoy settled for a look of disgust he had perfected over the years. Usually this look would instill some sort of fear or anger into a person, a Slytherin at least; even if it was miniscule.

Harry could roll on the floor laughing at how hard Malfoy was trying to scare him. Instead of breaking his Gryffindor Golden Boy persona completely, he settled for a raise of an eyebrow at the boy's silence. It was what any normal person would do.

"If you'll excuse me," he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, "I must be off now."

He turned on his heel and fled the library. Madam Pince glared at him as he left and he shivered. He was pretty sure even Voldemort was scared of that woman; Dark Lord or not. In fact, if she could train an army of people who could replicate her glare, they would win the war for sure. He chuckled at the childish thought and shook his head, earning some weird stares. Whatever...

He walked back to his dorm with his backpack hung over one of his shoulders and thankfully, the stairs were being nice and he managed to get up easily. On a bad day, it could take 20 minutes to get where you wanted to go.

He arrived at the Fat Lady' portrait and cursed himself for forgetting the password. Before he could find it using Occlumency, the portrait flew open revealing a very angry Muggleborn Witch.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"

Overprotective, nagging, coddling Party Pooper, she was.

~~~

Malfoy stayed there, silent for a bit. He was convinced that it didn't actually happen and blamed it on stress. Father and Mother were depending on him. Depending their lives on him, literally. The Dark Lord had given him the impossible task of killing Dumbledore and had been trying to fix the Cabinet the entire term. Speaking of which, he came here to find more information. He started perusing the books behind him, running his finger along the spines of the dusty collection.

Yule break, not Christmas break, was coming soon and he couldn't, wouldn't and shouldn't go back to the manor. He would be insane to. The Dark Lord was residing in their home. After all, it was an 'honour' as Bellatrix emphasized repeatedly. He had told his mother that he would stay at Hogwarts to 'collect more information'. His mother knowingly accepted his request and he signed up to stay. It earned him a full questioning performed by Parkinson, Zabini and Nott.