Untouchable

“I thought there were three of them."

“There were three of them,” yawned Ginny as she propped herself up on her elbows, ankles crossed and looking very comfortable on the carpeted marble floor. She took out her wand, closed one eye, and aimed it at the receding figure in the half-light. “Nope, he’s too far gone.”

Angelina crossed her arms disapprovingly. “You shouldn’t have turned into Draco, Ginny.”

Ignoring Angelina’s resigned remark, Ginny squawked as she craned her neck for a better view. “We must have put the fear of God back into Slytherin house. Look at him run.”

Parvati emerged from the kit cupboard, kicking Blaise Zabini’s flaccid leg behind her before she closed the door. She and Katie had helped drag Blaise Zabini and Graham Montague into the kit cupboard, which was ironic as Parvati was the spitting image of Zabini, dressed in his robes and shoes. “Was that Nott who escaped?”

"Yup,” said Ginny nonchalantly.

“Aren’t you going to go after him?”

Ginny turned to Pav and huffed. “My job is done. I have already played my part. Theodore Nott is running for his life because he has just seen a ghost. Me.” She pointed to her face, red hair and freckles replaced with alabaster skin, patchy stubble, and platinum blonde slicked-back hair. Ginny rolled her eyes and muttered. “Some people are never satisfied.”

"Nott just picked something up,” said Angelina, frowning. “Something heavy.”

Ginny sat up leisurely. “How can you see from that far away?”

Angelina smirked and it was terrifying to see a benign and familiar expression of a friend contorting the features of a stranger. It was a mirror image of the boy sprinting down the hallway and the boy who had interrogated Ginny in a stairwell almost an hour ago. Angelina’s amused expression turned to concern. “I can see her hair. It’s her! He just picked up Hermione!”

Parvati turned her head with the speed of a whip cracking. A white-knuckled, Katy clutched the kit cupboard door for support. A chorus of shocked exclamations sounded. An appropriate response to a crisis and potential hostage situation would have been to undertake swift and decisive action as a team, without scapegoating or unnecessary talk. 

“My job is done,” Pav mimicked Ginny with biting sarcasm. “I played my part. No, I am not going to go after him. So, we can all sit here and watch him run off with Hermione!”

“So, who’s going to go after him?” asked Ginny unphased by Pav’s withering imitation.

The other three girls turned and looked at her gobsmacked.

“I am a ghost, remember!” said Ginny.

“You are not a ghost because Malfoy is not dead!” Angelina hissed, grabbing Ginny’s arms, and pulling her to her feet. She was considerably heavier now than she was before, but Angelina was stronger too. “Put this on and stop being so bloody useless!” She tossed the invisibility cloak and sighed half with relief and exasperation when Ginny Weasley wore it and disappeared.

“Thank you for making her go away,” snapped Parvati.

“I am still here, and I can hear you!”

Angelina squinted into the distance. Even with superior sniper vision, Nott had put enough distance between them that he was now the size of a matchstick.

Parvati stomped her foot. “We need to reassess the situation and take stock of where we are to move forward. What is the new plan?

Katie stared blankly. “Well, we have lost Nott.”

“Okay,” Parvati Patil replied hesitantly.

Katie stammered. “So, if we were… to…to reassess the situation that means we have lost Hermione as well. This is not the first time we have lost Hermione. It’s the second.” She cleared her throat. “Regarding the new plan, Angelina...do you have a plan?”

Heavy footfalls thundered in the corridor growing louder in amplitude. “We are going to need a plan,” said Parvati.

Angelina turned slowly to see a rabble of satin nightgowns and silk chemises approaching her in hushed whispered tones from the girls’ dormitories. At the head of the group was Daphne Greengrass, hugging her little sister’s thin frame under one arm. She wore rollers in her hair and cosmetic under-eye patches. Astoria was barefoot in crumpled full-length polka dot pajamas, holding what appeared to be a teddy bear. Behind the pair, Angelina spied a tousled-haired Tracey Davis exposing her shoulder in an oversized white men’s shirt reaching mid-thigh. She walked beside Pansey Parkinson who was muttering furiously to herself. Parvati caught sight of Pansy and nearly gagged on her tongue. When she regained her ability to speak, she whispered, “What the Hell is Parkinson wearing?”

Angelina nearly snapped her neck when she turned to look. Her first thought was where on Earth is Parkinson going dressed like that?

 Pansy was dressed as a fifth-century Geisha in a black kimono and block heels. Her brown hair had been pulled back and swept up and over an ornate claw clip. With one hand, she clutched a heavily embroidered fan. The kimono exposed a lot of leg and Pansy fussed with the hem in a show of modesty. Tracey Davis drew the attention back to herself as the group neared the Gryffindors. Angelina pondered who the performance was for. She didn’t need three guesses when a pouty Davis sidled up while looking over her exposed shoulder (slathered in glittering body butter) when she drew level with Angelina. While wishing the ground would swallow her whole, Angelina shot Parvati another warning glare, reminding her sharply to stay in character. Parvati, playing the role of Blaise Zabini to a tee simply smirked.

“Nott!”

Angelina jumped out of her skin when she realized she was being addressed.

“What in Merlin's name just happened? I thought I heard an explosion!” said lead Slytherin spokesperson Daphne Greengrass.

“I need a word with you.” Angelina furrowed her eyebrows carefully to make the same sullen expression employed by a boy she could not recall ever making eye contact with. Angelina pulled Daphne aside from the group who unceremoniously dropped her clinging sister onto the carpet. “Listen very carefully. You need to keep this to yourself.”

Daphne nodded, privy to exposing many secrets. “On my life. You know that Theo. Even better make it Astoria’s.”

Astoria started. Angelina hesitated for a second.

“Theo, you are not yourself. Whatever it is has shaken you up badly. You know you can tell me anything.” Daphne reached for Theo’s hand and gave it a gentle reassuring squeeze which Angelina was unsure what to make of. Angelina did a double take. The under-eye pads were gone. She realized she was staring when Daphne began to beat her eyelashes to a feverish rhythm.

Pansy cleared her throat.

“Right. Sorry. Look, I don’t want to cause a panic,” said Angelina. A plan emerged. Imperfect but fully formed in Angelina’s mind. “The Gryffindors set off an explosion in the corridor.” She glanced without meaning to at the kit cupboard behind her which now housed two comatose Slytherin boys. “Thankfully no one was hurt.”

“How did the Gryffindors set off an explosion?” Pansy Parkinson pushed herself to the front of the group, stepping on Davis’ open-toed slippers and causing her to stumble. “The place is made of marble and glass.” Davis shrieked. Pansy and Daphne barely glanced over their shoulders when she landed gracelessly on her bottom.

“One of the Weasley’s whizz bangs!” Angelina pointed further down the corridor. “It’s a firework that keeps exploding and any efforts at trying to stop it makes it explode even more. The carpet caught fire back that way. It smells awful. Like roadkill.”

Parkinson opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish and Parvati guessed she had no idea what roadkill was. She would have to know what a muggle car was. Parvati reminded gently. “Do you remember when the fifth year’s OWL exams were interrupted when Weasley set off a whizz-bang in the exam hall?”

The girls nodded vigorously. Daphne pronounced. “They should have been expelled. If it had been Professor Snape instead of McGonagall, they wouldn’t have gotten off so lightly.”

Angelina sighed deeply. “We found a second Weasley whizz-bang. It hasn’t gone off yet but it’s only a matter of time.”

If Daphne Greengrass had promised to keep a secret and remain composed, she had forgotten said promise on her next breath. “Did you just say that there is another one? An actual whizz-bang?”

“Think of it as more of an incendiary device rather than a firework,” Parvati interjected as Blaise Zabini flashed those pearly whites as if to make her point.  

“It looks smaller than the first whizz-bang – I meant an incendiary device, which is greatly reassuring. And now that we have had some practice at diffusing the first whizz-bang, I’m sure we will have no trouble managing the second.” Angelina proffered.

“We are rather experienced now,” Katie Bell interrupted with cautious optimism as Warrington. “We know what we’re doing.”

Daphne clutched her throat where her pearls ought to rest and shared a knowing look with Pansy Parkinson who shook her head imperceptibly. It was a look that translated loosely into if he thinks he knows what he is doing, this is going to be a complete disaster.

“I’m sure that this corridor is perfectly safe,” said Angelina/ Nott. “But the dormitories are full of fire hazards as you well know.”

Parvati interjected unhelpfully, “Like curtains, carpets, bedsheets, clothing, kimonos.” She smiled like the Cheshire Cat at Parkinson who pulled a sour face in reply.  

Daphne began to wheeze.

Angelina continued, “And anything wooden like bed frames, doors, and cupboards.”

Astoria pulled on her sister’s sleeve. “Daphne, what’s going on?”

Angelina pressed forth. “What is important, is the whizz-bang located at the very entrance of the girl’s dormitories.”

Daphne’s chest rattled as she tried to process the onslaught of disinformation.

Angelina tried to be kind and patted her shoulder. “I just want to reassure you that we have got everything under control.  You can all go back to bed and let us detonate the whizz-bang in a controlled manner.”

“Go back to bed?” Daphne hissed.

Angelina adopted a more serious tone. “I don’t want to cause any panic, so we’re going to escort all of you back to the dormitories like Flint instructed. We need to be consistent in our messaging. Daphne, the other girls will look to you to project an aura of calm and control. So it would help if you kept it together. As far as you know, the first explosion didn’t happen. You need to trust us to take care of the situation. Nothing will happen to any of you. Oh, and Daphne: don’t tell anyone.”

Angelina was not prepared for Greengrass’ response. The older Greengrass dropped to her knees, clutched her chest, and let out a high-pitched keening moan like a cat being mutilated to an inch of its life. Parvati jumped out of her skin and knocked into the cloaked and invisible Ginny Weasley who fell backwards onto Katie Bell. Greengrass’ scream carried down both ends of the hallway, reverberated through the glass, and dissipated into the depths of the Great Lake. Daphne screamed again and Katie swore she could see tailfins beating the black water into foam in a hasty retreat. “WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!”

“That’s not what I said.” Angelina hurriedly replied.

“NOTT’S TRYING TO KILL US.”

 "No, let’s not jump to the wrong conclusions.” Angelina corrected.

 "WE ARE GOING TO BURN TO DEATH!”

Panic spread like wildfire through the group. There were screams and shouts of fireworks, then simply fire from the front radiating to the very back of the group. Pansy scrambled to get away in her block heels, tripping over the hem of her Kimono. She dropped her fan onto Tracey Davis's head nearly concussing the girl, before clambering over Davis’ prone form. Daphne led the charge, dragging Astoria by her arm, before roughly grabbing and throwing the teddy bear over her shoulder. Astoria’s weak protests were drowned in the screams mingling with unleashed chaos. The teddy bear was ripped to pieces underfoot. The Slytherin girls sprinted down the corridor, tearing the carpet with their heels and slippers, trampling over their fellow brethren who stumbled and lost their footing. In their frenzy, as they poured into the Slytherin common room, they knocked over chairs, sending them crashing to the ground, and climbed over sofas. 

Amid the mayhem, three male students, Flint, Goyle and Crabbe tried to make their way through the crowd and assert a measure of authority, but before Flint could bare his teeth, they were swallowed in the swarm. Flint was knocked off his feet, his body crashing into the hard carpet. Unknowingly, Pansy stepped on his bicep, and a loud crunching sound was heard briefly to be replaced by an agonizing howl of pain. The grandfather clock was pushed over by a group of terrified fourth years, landing on Goyle’s torso. There was a sound of snapping twigs and Goyle wondered if his ribs had cracked on impact. He would later learn that the Grandfather's clock's pendulum had detached and cracked in two. Crabbe stooped to roll the clock off Goyle's person but was promptly knocked onto his face by the third-year girls rushing from behind. Tables were overturned. Light fixtures were broken, portraits were knocked off the walls and torn from their frames and parchment papers flew in every direction. Ivory statues that were pushed off their pedestals, clattered onto the black marble floor and lay decapitated and limbless. The sound of splintering wood filled the air as oak-paneled common room doors were kicked open. As the girls amassed their strength on the doors, the hinges broke, and the doors came loose and formed gangplanks when they fell forward onto the ground. The noise was thunderous. The girls kept on running and screaming as they fled from the dungeons. Out of the corner of Goyle’s eye, he spied Nott and Zabini in the fray. He mouthed for them to stop and help, motioning to the grandfather clock that pinned him down. The Gryffindor girls heard the request and kept running as they escaped from the Dungeons.

Returning Granger to the Gryffindor dorms was out of the question. Theo had had his fill of Gryffindors for one night. With each labored step lugging every increasing dead weight on his back, the hospital dorms seemed a better prospect for both. He felt in the dark for a banister rail and attempted a flight of stairs, leaning heavily to one side. Granger’s hair probably weighed three kilos, never mind the shoes. He stopped in his tracks. The shoes. They were distinctively muggle, and entirely functional. No Slytherin girl would be seen dead in them. He could not afford to have any loose ends. He would have to dispose of her shoes. Speaking of other reliable characters, his attention turned to Blaise. He felt compelled to check on his fellow housemate, perhaps make another trip to the hospital wing. He groaned, his shoulders abused. Scratch that- he could drag Blaise to their room and let him sleep it off, preferably with a memory charm. Nott had done well to avoid the duty prefects, night owls, Mrs Norris, and Filch. To his dismay on arriving at the hospital wing, he ran smack into Madame Pomfrey. She was unmistakable in her World War II nurses’ uniform, grey hair swept tidily into a French coif, and heavily framed spectacles. So much for avoiding complications. “Who are you?”  she intoned as she peered into the shadows.

“I DON’T KNOW. I JUST FOUND HER!”

She dropped her tray of tongue depressors and rammed her index fingers into each ear.

“That’s Hermione Granger. What happened to her?” He lipread the name Hermione Granger confidently. He really could not bother with the rest of the question.

“I TOLD YOU I DON’T KNOW WHO SHE IS.”  In all honesty, he did try to lower his voice but was unable to gauge how much to lower it by.

Pomfrey raised a wizened finger to her lips. He shut up. Perhaps it was for the best. She motioned to the nearest empty bed. He got the message and dropped Granger onto it. Pomfrey ran to the other side of the bed before Granger rolled herself over the bed rails. She fixed him with a hard look before proceeding to tuck her patient under the covers and motioned to him.

“You know exactly who she is,” Pomfrey said solemnly. “And I know you are.”

He lip-read the statement and despite himself shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t fooling anyone. She said no more on the subject and forcibly tilted his head, angling his ear away from her. Theo sat through his ear exam patiently. Madame Pomfrey used a peculiar contraption she referred to as an otoscope, and at the very end of their encounter, she prescribed him some drops, with some written instructions on how to use it.

“I can’t be seen to be helping her.” He mouthed over his shoulder. “She’s a Gryffindor.”

Madame Pomfrey sighed and patted his shoulder reassuringly. “You don’t need to explain. I am well versed with the stupidity of house politics.”

“Will you?”

“No, I won’t tell.” Pre-empting his question, she snatched the drops back from him and unscrewed the top. Squeezing the pipette that came attached, she counted ten drops in his ear canal and motioned him to stay still for a minute or two. Then she repeated the same process on the other side. Oddly, Nott felt touched by the gesture. She took back the instructions and tore up the paper. He asked if he could keep the bottle now that he had completed the treatment. She faltered for a moment, unenthusiastic about handing out surplus medication but gave in easily. Eardrops were hardly going to be misused. She considered him to be a sensible lad.

“How’s your friend keeping?” She asked bluntly. “Are you keeping a close eye on him?”

His hearing in his left eye was improving rapidly. “Blaise is well. He is taking the medication you prescribed but he is due to run out soon.”

“Tell him to come and see me, before he does.” She also gave him a thumbs-up sign at the very end of the consultation. “I want you to know you did the right thing bringing her here.”

Theo nodded. “I don’t want it to be known.”

She sighed. “No need to labor the point, lad.”

Blaise was not an easy patient to care for. Theodore Nott found him collapsed in a crumpled heap inside the kit cupboard with Montague. It was just as well that Theo had not planned to go looking elsewhere for his roommate. Montague who had taken the brunt of the hexes, lay like a ragdoll. He left Blaise in the kit cupboard while he dragged Montague to the hospital wing, encountering Pomfrey for a second time. She fussed over Montague’s head and mentioned something about his altered mental status. Nott did not stick around and took off just as Pomfrey turned her attention to him. Blaise’s robes were ragged and smelled like burnt toast. The experience of dragging Blaise inside was like hauling a bear, a combination of brute force and limited forward motion. Theo’s limbs floundering, he staggered in and stumbled onto the bed carrying his charge. He could have crashed and slept till midday. By sheer force of will, he extricated himself from the clean sheets and tangle of limbs and robes. Nott took off Blaise’s shoes whose laces were still done up and flung them. He knelt next to Blaise’s still form and attempted to pour his prescription eardrops with tremulous hands into each of Blaise’s ears. It was easier to do so balancing his hand directly on the Blaise’s browbone, squashing his eyeball. Fortunately, his patient was not in a fit state to complain.

Blaise woke up two hours later, looking remarkably refreshed. His ladies-man reputation was well deserved. “What happened?”

 Theo, who had not slept a wink, despite his exhaustion sighed. “A lot.”

Blaise rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his elbow. He tugged his ear lobe. “My hearing’s back! How did that happen?”

Theo jerked his chin towards the drops on the nightstand.

“When did we go to the hospital wing?” Blaise yawned.

“We didn’t,” Theo stated. “Those are my drops.”

“You went without me?” Blaise asked incredulously.

Theo’s immediate response to his earnest question was one of profound irritation. He rolled onto the opposite side and pulled his covers up even higher. “Go back to sleep, you moron!”

“There was an explosion. Tell me what happened?” Blaise pressed. When persuasion did not yield the intended results, he launched a herbology notebook as a projectile. It did the trick which was five minutes of profuse swearing interspersed with creative death threats.

Despite his best intentions to go to sleep to avoid his roommate’s prattling, Theo found himself spilling the events of the evenings. Sleep was not forthcoming. He needed a fresh perspective anyway. Blaise listened in stunned silence when Theo explained Hermione Granger had attacked Malfoy, not Potter. She had been tasked to return Veritaserum to Snape’s storeroom after the Gryffindor afterparty got broken up by McGonagall. He explained the girl in the kit cupboard was Ginny Weasley dosed on fire whisky and Veritaserum whom he later reunited with the Gryffindor chasers in their room. Ginny Weasley had told him of the existence of a map that showed everyone’s position in real-time and secret entrances to the castle. He had advised the Gryffindor girls to find and use Polyjuice to move through the Dungeons at speed and make their escape instead of relying on the invisibility cloak. He admitted it was a plan fraught with risk. He hadn’t made it clear enough to the Gryffindors that he would retrieve Granger who had collapsed in the same closet. The Gryffindor girls now polyjuiced had returned to their broom closet to rescue Granger at the same time he had, resulting in the confrontation between the Slytherin boys and the Gryffindor girls. He presumed that Draco Malfoy who they had seen collapsed in the hallway outside the broom closet was Ginny Weasley on Polyjuice. After the showdown with the Grffindors, he transferred Granger to the hospital wing, spinning a story to Pomfrey about how he had found her collapsed in the corridor. He went back to the kit cupboard to take his next patient Montague to the hospital wing and then brought Blaise to their room.

Blaise guessed this was not a move made out of the goodness of Theo’s heart. He guessed correctly. “Montague will vouch that you were kit cupboard with the two of us the whole time, that you came round first, and helped him to the hospital wing and went back to get me. Pomfrey is the only person who could potentially put a pin in that.”

“She won’t speak. She promised she wouldn’t.”

“Did anyone see you make the two trips to the hospital room?”

Nott paused, “No, the hallways were empty, almost strangely deserted. I wasn’t seen or followed.” It was rather curious now that he stopped to think about it. It was almost like an evacuation of all students had taken place after he had gone to the hospital wings, how even the furniture had been moved to aid their movement. Nott would later learn of the stampede of Slytherin girls and his part in instigating the affair. For now, he remained blissfully unaware of the event and the punishment that lay in store for him.

“You are the craziest bastard I know.” Blaise snorted. “Our entire house would turn on us if they knew a fraction of the treason you committed.” He paused for a moment. “Why did you do it?”

It was a very good question. Theo turned and looked at the ceiling and gulped. “I’m not sure.”

“Bloody Hell.”

Theo began to lose his nerve in Blaise’s continued silence but rather predictably, his roommate turned the tables in no time.

“Don’t tell me you felt sorry for Granger after you accidentally disrobed her in potions.”

Nott bit his tongue and continued to stare at the ceiling. 

“I know it was you.” Blaise’s shock slowly gave way to reluctance and respect for the Gryffindor girls. It had nothing to do with the fact that Blaise had been kicked off the same quidditch team that Gryffindor bested on and off the pitch as well. “Montague told me I should stop hanging around you and start thinking like a Slytherin! If only he knew half the things you were capable of.”

The corner of Theo’s mouth lifted into a wry smile.

Blaise chuckled. “On a more serious note, we need to plan our next move.”

“What move?”

In his next breath, Blaise reminded Nott exactly why he was his only confidante. “Why did Malfoy ditch Crabbe and Goyle, to go on a walk around the castle at midnight? Especially after the humiliating defeat against Gryffindor?” Blaise steepled his fingers. “If I were Quidditch captain, I would go into hiding. There is no way I would show my face for a week afterward. He was so drunk he could not stand. What was so important, it couldn’t wait till morning?”

Theo straightened. It was a question that he had failed to even consider during his good Samaritan rounds. The answer left him stumped. Rather than admit his failing, he asked. “Does Malfoy have a girlfriend outside our house?”

Blaise shook his head. “He was wearing thick layers and boots, Nott. Unless his girlfriend is a bearded half-giant and lives in Hagrid’s shack, the answer to your question is no.”

Nott yawned. “You will have to tell me. It has been a long night.”

“Malfoy was on his way to the owlery.”

Theo frowned. “Are you sure? After midnight?”

 “I suspect it has something to do with my earlier conversation with Montague about house allegiances and Slytherin responsibilities.”

Theo rolled over in his bed, pulled his pillow over his face, and groaned into it. “That’s a dangerous assumption to make.”

“It’s the logical assumption. Just because we do not want to hear it, does not make it any less true.”

Nott wracked his brains. “Are you suggesting that Malfoy has been entrusted to conduct a task for his father?”

“I wouldn’t trust Malfoy to clean out a cauldron without cacking up.” Blaise said honestly, “But he’s amoral, pliable, and will do anything for his father.

“Well, it’s got nothing to do with me.”

Blaise whistled. “I beg to differ.”

“What? I do not want to get involved. If his father is involved, my father might be as well.” Theo folded his arms across his chest and stared up at the ceiling in a show of defiance.

“This is exactly what Montague was complaining about,” Blaise said dryly.

“You are indulging in wild speculation. We have no evidence that Malfoy is a death eater or even working for them. I want no part in whatever this is.”

Blaise snapped impatiently. “What are you going to do if Malfoy wakes up tomorrow and recalls a different version of events where Harry Potter did not hex him? You do remember making that announcement in front of the entire Slytherin common room. Lucius Malfoy will also be aware of his son’s side quest. Now, Malfoy is in a coma that conveniently puts him out of action. You will not escape Lucius' notice. He will have questions for you. He is going to be here very soon. Especially if Malfoy had a task that he failed to complete.” Blaise stated. “If I am right and Malfoy was on his way to the owlery, he will have a letter on his person. I will bet you ten galleons. How is that for evidence?”

“Only ten galleons?” Said Theo. “Have you spent your family fortune already?”

Blaise smirked. “Winning is the real prize – as you well know. Did it cross your mind that whatever Snape has kept brewed in his office might be more potent than Veritaserum and Polyjuice potion?”

Nott nodded, wishing he had never consulted Blaise in the first place to have to endure his conceit and kicking himself for not doing it sooner. On reflection, he should have informed Blaise of the evening’s events as they happened. It would have saved him face and time. He could feel the weight of Blaise’s gaze studying him in silence. Apologizing was not an easy decision to make, so he did the next best thing and issued a paltry nonapology. Nott hesitated. “Are we still on good terms?”

“Not even close,” Blaise replied immediately. “Fortunately for you, we don’t have the luxury of time to indulge in sentiment.” He was not finished spouting acute insight. “We either make the first move or we do nothing and react to someone else’s play. Thanks to Ginny Weasley we are in a uniquely advantageous position, but we must capitalize on it right now. We cannot wait.”

“Agreed.”

“Alright, get some sleep. You need to make a trip to the hospital wing bright and early. To see Draco, Montague, and your mystery girl.” Blaise replied. “In that order.”

“Where will you go?” Theo asked.

Blaise cracked all his knuckles, in satisfaction. “Snape is going to come looking for you when Lucious Malfoy arrives at Hogwarts. While you keep the pair entertained, I am going to Snape’s office to see if I can get my hands on his riches. I bet he doesn’t know he was robbed last night. I am going to steal some more.”

Theo thought carefully. “Choose carefully and find me something to bargain with Granger.” He did not know it but Nott would have plenty of time to spend in Granger’s company; four months’ worth of after-school detention. He should have been suspended but he would later learn of his father’s intervention in the matter. His charges as Professor Snape would relay to him the following morning included fabricating a terror attack by the Gryffindor quidditch team, inciting mass hysteria and a subsequent stampede, resulting in significant property damage, including damage to priceless antiques and heritage pieces of Slytherin House, and finally, failing to assist a fellow student in a medical emergency.