The Room of Requirement

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February 1st 1997

He rubbed his eyes with the bottom of his palms, a deep groan leaving him right before he threw a punch forward at the blasted wood.

"Fucking thing," he muttered.

The Vanishing Cabinet was nowhere near completion. Draco had spent nearly all day in the Room of Requirement and hadn't made any progress, just dead end after dead end. He wanted to throw the stupid piece of furniture into a bonfire. At this rate he would be lucky to make it to his next birthday, that's if the Dark Lord hadn't murdered him first. With so little development here, Draco had not even started on how he was actually going to end the Headmaster. The thought always left his hands feeling numb and shoulders tense.

With a sigh, he closed the cabinet for the last time and made his way out of the room. To add to his burgeoning headache, Potter had been ignoring him for the past couple of days. He'd tried once after their conversation in the D.A.D.A. workshop, but it was so hard to get her attention without alarming those around them. He even contemplated hexing her and dragging her away, but Weasley would step in. That ginger mop was glued to her side since he and Brown broke up.

He stepped out onto the seventh floor, seeing his two lookouts positioned in the area, still keeping watch. To anyone else, it would have just appeared to be Slytherin fourth years, Alina Read and Astoria Greengrass; innocently wandering the top floor. Truthfully, the girls were sleeping soundly in their beds.

"Crabbe, Goyle," he barked to his polyjuiced friends. "I'm finished for the evening."

"About time, Malfoy," Crabbe or Alina mumbled, "I'm so tired. How much longer until you're finished in there for good?"

"I don't know," he sniped, descending the staircase with them in tow. "No more questions, I've told you-"

He was cut off by the distant sound of something tapping across the stone, then rolling as if it were a galleon or jewel. Draco paused in his steps, eyes snapping to the girls. They were right behind him, not nearly making the same amount of noise Crabbe and Goyle would in their real forms.

"Did one of you drop something?"

"No, Malfoy," they both responded.

He squinted and waited, but nothing else happened. So he continued walking down the stairs. As he turned on a platform he could have sworn he noticed a shadow move out of the corner of his eye. He whipped around, knocking Astoria/Goyle aside and drew his wand. Draco could feel it, the presence of someone there. He could feel it in the air. Maybe he was paranoid, but he wouldn't take risks with this. He looked to the fourth years.

"Go back to the common room without me," he said quietly.

"Are you sure you don't want us to stick around?"

He merely nodded, waiting as they bounded down the stairs. Still swaying a little to the left and right as if they still had their weight on them.

He slowly climbed back up the stairs, fingers fastened around his hawthorn wand tightly. Draco wasn't afraid in moments like these, he was confident in his ability. After all, he was supposed to be a Death Eater. If someone had discovered his secret, he would silence them in any way necessary. He couldn't risk leaving loose ends when it came to this mission.

The seventh floor appeared as is, empty of anything. If anyone was out at this hour after curfew, they weren't up to anything good. His silver eyes scanned the wide hall closely as he walked tensely down the corridors. Another scuffling. It was so light he didn't know if he had even heard of it, but he would bet his mother's jewels he wasn't alone right now. He stared vigorously into the distance.

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