Dawn Rivera

The Slug Club

I spend a lot of the last week of the holidays pondering the meaning of Draco's behaviour in Knockturn Alley. What disturbs me most is the satisfied look on Draco's face as he left the shop. Nothing that makes Draco look that happy can be good news. However, I, Ron nor Hermione are quite as curious about Draco's activities as Harry and Danny are; or at least, we are bored of discussing it after a few days.

"Yes, we've already agreed it was fishy, Harry and Danny," I say a little impatiently. I am sitting on the window-sill in Fred and George's room with my feet on one of the cardboard boxes and have only grudgingly looked up from my new copy of Advanced Rune Translation. "But haven't we agreed there could be a lot of explanations?"

"Maybe he's broken his Hand of Glory," says Ron, vaguely, as he attempts to straighten his broomstick's bent tail twigs. "Remember that shrivelled-up arm Malfoy had?"

"But what about when he said 'Don't forget to keep that one safe'?" asks Danny for the umpteenth time. "That sounded to me like Borgin's got another one of the broken objects, and Draco wants both."

"You reckon?" says Ron, now trying to scrape some dirt off his broom handle.

"Yeah, we do," says Harry. When Ron, Hermione and I don't answer, he says, "Malfoy's father's in Azkaban. Don't you think Malfoy'd like revenge?"

Ron looks up, blinking.

"Malfoy, revenge? What can he do about it?"

"That's our point, we don't know!" says Danny, frustrated. "But he's up to something sad I think we should take it seriously. His father's a Death Eater and - "

Danny breaks off, his and Harry's eyes fixed on the window behind Hermione and I, their mouths open. A startling thought must have just occurred to them both.

"Harry? Danny?" says Hermione in an anxious voice. "What's wrong?"

"Your scar's not hurting again, Harry, is it?" asks Ron nervously.

"He's a Death Eater," says Harry slowly. "He's replaced his father as a Death Eater!"

There is a silence, then Ron erupts in laughter.

"Malfoy? He's sixteen, Harry, Danny! You think You-Know-Who would let Malfoy join?"

"It seems very unlikely, Harry and Danny," I say in a repressive sort of voice. "What makes you think - ?"

"I'm Madam Malkin's," says Danny. "She didn't touch him, but he yelled and jerked his arm away when she went to roll up his sleeve. It was his left arm. He's been branded with the Dark Mark."

Ron, Hermione sad I look at each other.

"Well..." says Ron, sounding thoroughly unconvinced.

"I think he just wanted to get out of there, Harry, Danny," says Hermione.

"He showed Borgin something we couldn't see," Harry presses on stubbornly. "Something that seriously scared Borgin. It was the Mark, I know it - he was showing Borgin who he was dealing with, you saw how seriously Borgin took him!"

Ron, Hermione and I exchange another look.

"I'm not sure, Harry and Danny..." I say.

"Yeah, I still don't reckon You-Know-Who would let Malfoy join."

Looking annoyed, but absolutely convinced they are right, Harry and Danny snatch up piles of dirty Quidditch robes and leave the room; Mrs Weasley has been urging us for days not to leave our washing and packing until the last moment. As Harry reaches the doorway, he pauses and turns back to look at me. "Of course, I didn't expect you to believe us, Dawn," he says bitterly. "After all, Malfoy could never do anything wrong in your eyes." Then he slams the door, and I'm left staring at the wood, finally understanding his obsession with Draco.