Dramione

18* The Room Of Requirement

"Hold it, Potter." Malfoy spat. Potter put his hand down and turned to look at him. "That's my wand you're holding, Potter."

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

"My mother." Malfoy said without hesitation. He scowled when Potter barked out a humorless laugh. He couldn't hear the other footsteps anymore, and knew that Granger and the Weasley were searching for the Diadem while Potter distracted them.

"So," Potter kept the silence at bay. "How come you three aren't with Voldemort?"

"We're gonna be rewarded." Crabbe said with soft confidence. Draco cringed. He had told them that staying in the castle and bringing Potter in would bring them honor. All Malfoy wanted was to keep Granger safe among all of the mess. "We 'ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to 'im."

Potter nodded, feigning interest. "Good plan." He slid back a step, towards the diadem. "So how did you get in here?" He asked.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden Things all last year. I know how to get in." His voice came out brittle, the words reminding him of all the pain the end of last year had brought him.

"We was hiding in the corridor outside," grunted Goyle next to him. "We can do Disslusion Charms now! And then," his face split into a gormless grin, "you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum! What's a die-dum?"

"Harry?" The Weasley's voice echoed suddenly from the other side of the wall to Potter's right. "Are you talking to someone?"

Before Malfoy could stop him, Crabbe pointed his wand at the fifty foot mountain of old furniture, of broken trunks, of old books and robes and unidentifiable junk, and shouted, "Descendo!"

The wall began to totter, then the top third crumbled into the aisle next door where Ron stood.

"Ron!" Potter bellowed, as somewhere out of sight Granger screamed, and Malfoy heard innumerable objects crashing to the floor on the other side of the destabilized wall: Potter pointed his wand at the rampart, cried, "Finite!" and it steadied.

"No!" shouted Malfoy, staying Crabbe's arm as the latter made to repeat his spell. He thought quickly of a way to keep him from harming them. "If you wreck the room you might bury this diadem thing!"

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

"Potter came in here to get it," said Malfoy, trying to sound confident. "so that must mean-"

"'Must mean'?" Crabbe turned on Malfoy with undisguised ferocity. "Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your dad are finished." Malfoy's mouth hung agape. Crabbe hadn't been like this a year ago. After the death eaters invasion, both Crabbe and Goyle had gotten their Dark Marks. The year of war had transformed Crabbe from one of his best friends into a tool for the Dark Lord.

"Harry?" Malfoy heard the Weasley again, from the other side of the junk wall. "What's going on?"

"Harry?" mimicked Crabbe. "What's going on-no, Potter! Crucio!"

Potter had lunged for the tiara; Malfoy lunged for Crabbe's wand. The curse missed Potter but hit the stone bust, which flew into the air; the diadem soared upward and then dropped out of sight in the mass of objects on which the bust had rested.

"STOP!" Malfoy commanded Crabbe, his voice echoing through the enormous room. "The Dark Lord wants him alive-"

"So? I'm not killing him, am I?" yelled Crabbe, throwing off Malfoy's restraining arm. "But if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants him dead anyway, what's the diff-?"