Y/ns Pov
Draco and I were sitting in the loungeroom, and bickering about the different parts of the riddle.
"It's so straight forward Draco, we have to go to Hogwarts. A place of education. Mountains. Lakes."
"Bring a friend along for conversation? Who? Fucking Dobby?" He sighed and slammed his head onto the coffee table. "Fucking hell."
The hair on his head was dishevelled and messy, the bags under his eyes, dark purple. He was stressed, anxious, exhausted.
My fingers brushed their way through his hair, and I pulled him into my chest. The stress of trying to destroy this stake before the Dark Lord could return was taking a toll on us both.
"The sorting hat," Draco mumbled and looked at me.
"Huh?"
"The sorting hat."
"Uh, yeah. I heard you the first time. What about it?"
"We have to bring it with us. He's the friend we bring along for conversation? Right?"
I nodded and looked down at the rest of the riddle.
---
McGonagalls classroom, an odd broom cupboard,
In a loose floorboard, a key discovered,
Once in the room, make your way to the mirror,
Out of your companion, you'll pull something dearer,
Once held in hand, and if used right,
Seeing a loved one again - you just might.
Make your way, to a classroom that's used to brew,
And within will be something that helps you,
From entrance, there be, seven tiles to the left,
Twelve more forward, and below is a chest,
Then go to a battlefield - fires are plenty,
Around the neck of a beast, remove it gently,
A forbidden corridor, a place of silence,
The creature behind is violent,
A room for detentions, you cleaned up green slime,
Bring the choir along, make a chime,
The beast will settle, and beyond the hatch,
A door, you must pass, use her mouth to unlatch,
Be quick, and don't look it in the eye,
For someone who is muggle-born, will die,
---
"McGonagalls classroom.." I breathed, "Draco we are running out of time. I can feel it. These things seem fairly straight forward, I think we'll just have to bring the hat, go to the school and wing it,"
Draco sighed, "Mhm. He'll be back soon. And when he is, we'll have to kill him immediately. And we can't do that if this stake is still around,"
"Right."
That night. McGonagalls transfiguration classroom. Warm, and full with desks.
McGonagalls classroom, an odd broom cupboard,
On the left of the room, there was a rusty coat rack, hats and jackets piled messily on every hook. It was leaning on an angle, against an old door, that Professor McGonagall urged every student to ignore completely.
