Disclaimer: Regrettably, I still own nothing. Shame, that.

Author’s Note: Many thanks to those who reviewed. It brightened up my days in the midst of revision. I’m now back home for three months so updates should be pretty regular, or so one hopes. Also a great big thank you to Master Slytherin and scaryisntit for their help. I’ve decided that I should never write an angry!Harry fic since it would be disastrous. And remember, if you see any errors please tell me and I’ll be eternally – well, maybe not eternally – grateful. Oh, and I’m really sorry that I’m one day behind what I promised.

Chapter Nine

Harry tried to breathe as quietly as possible as he hid in the dark alcove. A suit of armour helped to conceal him from view. His eyes flickered around whilst his ears strained the silence in an attempt to hear his pursuer’s footsteps.

In the shadows he attempted to read his watch face but it was too dark to make out. It should be around four o’clock he surmised. What that told him about the location of the person hunting him, he wasn’t sure. It did mean that they would have to pack up in another hour or so, however. This in turn meant that he really didn’t want to be found just yet. He didn’t want to lose his chocolate frogs.

The slightest hint of creaking tipped him off to movement on the stairs towards the end of the corridor. He could just make out a single arm of the statue of Lachlan the Lanky that was located near the stairwell leading up from the sixth floor. He gripped his wand tightly and held himself rigidly still.

Seconds ticked away in silence tempting him to peer out of his hiding place to see if anyone was there. He resisted the urge.

Slowly a figure came into view, moving slowly down the stone corridor with a wand outstretched. Her face moved from side to side as she approached his hiding spot. Her footsteps made no sound, leading Harry to believe that a spell of some sort was involved.

It was times like this when he wished he could cast spells non-verbally. He remembered the fiasco of the Quidditch World Cup and how the Death Eaters had held the advantage with their silent spell-casting. He also remembered asking Hermione about it and learning that it wasn’t covered until sixth year. After hearing that he had pushed the thought to one side; something he now regretted.

He could tell the exact moment she spotted him. Her eyes widened and she spun her wand towards him. She was too late. He was quicker: “Labe!” The fiery orange Trip Hex sent her off balance and onto the floor.

Grinning widely Harry then slid out of his hiding place and high tailed it up the corridor, hurriedly dodging the spells flying towards him. Skidding round the corner, he cursed as he realised that the staircase at the end of the corridor was swinging away from the ledge.

He only had a few seconds and he desperately needed a hiding place. The only problem was that the corridor was bathed in the afternoon light streaming in through the thick glass windows on one side of the wall. On the opposite wall there was nothing except a scattering of portraits that watched him in curiosity.

But then it appeared. A single door had materialised opposite the tapestry portraying Barnabus the Barmy’s attempt at teaching ballet to a group of trolls.

Harry didn’t hesitate. He slipped into the room and shut the door softly behind him.

Wonderful, thought Harry sarcastically to himself as he realised just what he’d stepped into - a hidden broom cupboard filled with mops, brooms and a whole host of cleaning products. He only hoped the doorway had disappeared from view otherwise he would be discovered pretty quickly in the rather compressed space.

Catching his breath back, Harry wished he could see what his pursuer was doing outside like how Muggles could monitor people through security cameras. He wasn’t prepared to risk peeking out of the broom closet to check, however.

It came as quite a surprise, then, that he found himself no longer in a broom cupboard. Instead the room had extended outwards and all signs of cleaning equipment had vanished. A long desk now lined an entire wall and above it was a large screen showing the corridor outside. A rather wary Padma Patil was glancing around with narrowed eyes, a few tendrils of black hair poking out of her long French plait.

Harry grinned to himself as he noticed that the breadth of wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy was completely blank. It looked like he wouldn’t be losing his chocolate frogs any time soon and would in fact be gaining two Sugar Quills.

He wasn’t sure who had suggested the idea. They had somehow gone from discussing childhood games – in which Harry had tried to pass of Harry Hunting as a fun pastime – to deciding that playing a variation of Hide and Seek at Hogwarts would be a great idea. Since tracking spells made it rather easy to find someone’s general location they had changed it so that the game only ended when the hider was stunned. Padma had lasted roughly forty minutes hiding out and Harry had to beat that score in order to win the prize they had bet on.

He would only have to wait another – he checked his watch – seven minutes to beat her score. Seven minutes in which he could relax and watch her trying her hardest to find him. Sitting down on a recently materialised armchair he viewed the Indian witch in amusement.

She looked rather put-out that he had disappeared. Her brows were drawn together in confusion as she continued to look around the deserted corridor, her wand gripped firmly in her right hand. He absently noted that she never looked up at the ceiling which gave him an idea of what to look up in the library that evening.

He looked down at the desk surface and gave a small laugh. On the counter was an open-faced book showing a diagram of a wizard moving across the ceiling. Beneath the picture was a brief explanation followed by a series of illustrations describing the wand movements of the spell.

Grinning at the thought of no more trips to the library in a long search for the correct textbook, Harry was suddenly distracted by a noise. Sitting up straight in his armchair he glanced up at the large screen and noticed that Padma must have heard it too. She had spun round and was slowly walking back towards the corridor she had just come from. Back towards what was supposed to be an empty corridor.

Probably a small piece of armour falling to the ground, thought Harry to himself. He’d knocked it slightly when getting out of that dark alcove and a bit had most likely come loose.

The screen followed the Ravenclaw witch’s progress as she walked quickly back to the previous corridor. It was deserted. The suit of armour was perfectly intact. Nothing seemed out of place.

The Indian witch shook her head before sighing. “You’re going mad, Padma,” she muttered just loud enough for Harry to hear before turning round to make her way back to the next passageway.

In the corner of the screen, just for a second, Harry thought he caught a glimpse of something. But when he looked again he saw nothing unusual. He frowned at the screen before looking down at his watch; the time was up.

Jumping out of the chair, he walked across the room and opened the door. “It looks like you’ve lost-”

“Stupefy!”

The last thing Harry saw was a thin beam of red light rushing towards him and Padma’s smile of triumph.

He saw the same smile as he was forced back into consciousness. “You were saying?” said the Ravenclaw witch who was leaning over him.

“I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted-” Padma’s smile widened showing more of her pearly white teeth “-that I’ve won and that you owe me two Sugar Quills.” He clambered up from the floor and Padma did likewise only with a lot more grace despite – or maybe because of – the skirt she was wearing.

She gave him a pitying look that looked at odds with the mischievous glint in her dark eyes. “I think that drop to the ground must have muddled your memory. What you were really going to say is that you surrender. You realised that you could never have possibly beaten me and so decided to give up.” Harry tried to interrupt but she continued on regardless. “There’s no need to admit it, I understand entirely the need to save face. The Boy Who Lived defeated by little old me; we both know you could never live it down and this was the only way to accept defeat gracefully.”

Harry stared at her. Padma stared back, her lips twitching as she tried to stop herself from laughing. “A noble decision,” she choked out. Harry lifted an eyebrow. “Truly, truly courageous.” She just managed to force that out before she began to laugh.

“And I think that someone owes me two Sugar Quills,” said Harry as she stopped laughing.

She looked at him innocently. “But would you really deprive a girl of her Sugar Quills?”

“Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

“Is it working?”

“No.”

“Damn!” But her eyes were sparkling and her lips were stretched into a smile.

She looked around the room as though remembering that this was where he had been hiding. “So what exactly is this room? I’ve never seen it before. Not that I really venture up to the seventh floor.”

“Not even to see Parvati?” The Gryffindor common room was also on the seventh floor.

Padma wrinkled her nose slightly. “I used to, but now she’s got Lavender and I’ve got my friends. We’re still pretty close and everything but we’ve got different personalities and we’re in to different things. Besides, Lavender isn’t exactly fond of me and it doesn’t help that I think Divination is a brainless subject taught by a certain batty charlatan. No offence or anything.”

Harry laughed. “Well I agree with you entirely on the second point, but how come Lavender doesn’t like you? Didn’t you say that you could have gone to Lavender’s for Christmas?”

“It’s just a feeling I get,” she said was a small shrug. “She’s never said anything but I always feel awkward when I want to talk to Parvati and she’s around. And now I sound really silly.”

“Not as silly as Trelawney,” Harry quickly reassured as he took in her slightly downcast expression.

“Well, thank Merlin for that. Anyway,” she said, deftly changing the topic, “you never answered my question: what is this room?”

Harry shrugged. “A hidden one?”

“Not quite what I meant,” she said with a quirk of the lips as she moved to look around the rather sparse room. Her eyes then became fixed on the screen showing the view outside the door. “Is that a television?”

That took him by surprise. “You know what a television is?”

“I do Muggle Studies,” she said in explanation. “I’ve never seen a real one, though; magic interferes with electricity so Professor Burbage never brings in any electrical devices to show us. I wonder how this one’s working.”

“I don’t think that it’s run by electricity.” He then went on to explain the room’s changing appearance and how it seemed to be triggered by thoughts. He gestured to the open-faced book lying on the desk to illustrate his point.

The pretty Ravenclaw made a small humming sound. “This could be fun.”

Harry then noticed what had just appeared in the room. “A trampoline?” he inquired with a raised brow.

“A trampoline,” agreed Padma, flashing him a grin. “I always wanted one, but Mum always vetoed it. That and I’m a bit too old to jump about in public.”

“But not in front of me?” he asked as she carefully climbed onto the large, blue trampoline after removing her shoes.

“Nope,” she said, wrinkling her nose up slightly. She then grew a bit more serious. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Harry shook his head. “Not at all.” As fun as the trampoline looked, he was more interested in an idea that had been slowly forming in his head.

She smiled at him winningly as she began to jump, one hand self-consciously making sure that her skirt didn’t flare up. She beamed at him and Harry once again realised exactly why she was considered one of the prettiest girls in the year.

Taking his eyes off Padma, he meandered over to the armchair and plopped himself down. The screen in front of him was still showing the deserted corridor outside of the room. Time to test his hypothesis.

Focusing on the Gryffindor common room his eyes involuntarily closed. When he opened them again he grimaced slightly as he realised that the room had changed into a replica of his house’s common room with a rather out-of-place trampoline in the centre.

Continuing to bounce up and down on the trampoline, Padma laughed at him. “Be more specific,” she told him, obviously catching on to what he was attempting.

Flushing slightly in acute embarrassment, Harry concentrated again. This time he was met with more success as the room reverted to its previous appearance only with the screen showing a view of the Gryffindor common room. It was devoid of life which told Harry that his two best friends were still out on their wanderings doing whatever it was that they did without him present. Argue, most like.

Putting thoughts of Ron and Hermione to one side, he instead flitted away the late afternoon checking out just what this hidden room could do. By the time he realised that they had missed dinner he had a three dimensional reproduction of Hogwarts revealing every single hidden pathway, trap door and secret room littered throughout the castle. The detailed layout was displayed on the large screen reminding Harry of something from a movie.

“Look, there’s where we came in back in first year,” said Padma who had abandoned her trampoline and was curiously inspecting the plan. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as nervous in my life as I was then. I kept wishing that I’d been called Parvati instead so I would get to go second. Seems so long ago, now.”

“Yeah,” agreed Harry absent-mindedly as his thoughts drifted to how life had changed since then. How life had changed since Hagrid had burst through that door on that unknown island. It felt more like a lifetime ago than just over four years.

“More importantly I’ve found the kitchens,” said Harry pointing to the large room situated directly below the Great Hall. “We’ve sort of missed dinner so I figured that maybe we ought to make a stop-off there to grab some food. Those house-elves didn’t seem to mind giving us food a few days ago.”

“I hope so,” said Padma. “I’m starving.”

The rather enthusiastic greeting they received from the house-elves removed any doubt that they would have to go without food as they entered the high-ceilinged room. The strange little creatures hurried them inside the kitchen.

Harry was gazing around the room with its brass pots and pans lining the stone walls when a recognisable voice called out to him from just behind the great brick fireplace at the opposite end of the room.

“Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!” The wind was knocked out of the young wizard as a small, squealing elf hurtled into him.

“D-Dobby?” gasped Harry as the elf began to hug him so tightly he thought his ribs might break.

Enormous, green, tennis-ball-shaped eyes brimming with tears of happiness peered up at him. “Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Harry Potter, sir. Other elves tell Dobby that Harry Potter has come to kitchen but Dobby was not here. Dobby was most disappointed but now Harry Potter, sir, has returned. Harry Potter has come to see Dobby!”

Harry then remembered Padma. “Dobby?”

Dobby let go of him and stepped back slightly. He looked much like Harry remembered him from the pencil-shaped nose to the bat-like ears that were now mainly hidden by what appeared to be a tea-cosy decorated with badges.

“Yes, Harry Potter, sir?”

“This is Padma,” said Harry, gesturing to the Ravenclaw witch who was watching them with a hesitant smile. “And Padma, this is Dobby.”

Padma bent down to Dobby’s level. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dobby,” she said, holding out her hand for the elf to shake.

It was too much for Dobby and he burst into tears.

Padma looked to Harry with a worried look. “Did I say something wrong?”

Harry shook his head. “Don’t worry about it; he does that quite a bit.”

She nodded but still looked a bit unsure as she stood back up.

Eventually Dobby regained control of himself and wouldn’t stop praising Padma for her kindness until she grew so embarrassed that Harry distracted Dobby with questions of his freed status. It must have looked a strange scene, Harry thought to himself, as the three of them sat on one of the large wooden tables that mimicked the Great Hall in their set-up. As they ate their late dinner they listened to Dobby’s life as a free elf.

“Dobby,” said Harry as the other elves, all of whom were giving Dobby a wide-berth, cleared away their empty plates, “do you know anything about a dead train driver?”

“Dobby has only been at Hogwarts for two months. And Harry Potter should not ask about such things. Unnatural death.” Dobby then started to quiver all over, horror-struck by what he’d said. He began to pound his head against the table surface, squealing, “Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!”

Harry grabbed him by his horse-patterned tie and pulled him away from the table. “I’m sorry I asked,” he said.

“House-elves sees too much,” Dobby told him rather ominously and it wasn’t soon after that Harry and Padma left the kitchen and the lingering smell of stale cabbage.

Harry was still pondering what Dobby had said as they ambled along the corridors on their way back to their respective common rooms. He was glad that Padma hadn’t asked him to explain about the train conductor since it was one thing to tell his suspicions to Ron and Hermione and another thing altogether to mention them to the pretty Indian witch.

“Well, Dobby seems to like you a lot,” said Padma, knocking him out of his train of thought.

“Hmm?”

“He’s rather...” she paused, obviously trying to think of the right word to try and describe the free house-elf.

“Odd,” supplied Harry.

Padma grinned. “I was going to say quirky, actually, but I suppose ‘odd’ covers it. I thought he looked rather sweet with that tea-cosy on his head.”

Harry shot her a sceptical look. The word ‘sweet’ never sprung to his mind when he thought of Dobby. He personally thought the description of ‘disturbed, homicidal house-elf’ was rather more fitting, even if Dobby’s intentions had been in the right place.

All too soon they reached the corridor where they were to part ways. “Remember you owe me two Sugar Quills,” said Harry wishing to drag out the moment for just a bit longer.

“I’ll bring them to breakfast tomorrow. I promise.”

The both of them stood facing each other, not really saying anything.

“I guess I better go and find out what Ron and Hermione have been doing today,” said Harry, unconsciously pushing a hand through his messy head of hair. “Doubt it’ll have been as interesting as our day.”

“You know I don’t mind if you want them to join us. They are your best friends and I really don’t mind.” Her dark, almond-shaped eyes looked at him in sincerity. “You’ve not really had a chance to spend time with them with me around all the time. I feel a bit guilty.”

Harry shook his head slightly. “Don’t feel guilty. It’s nice to get away from their bickering, to be honest.” He just wished his friends would tell him why they seemed to be ignoring him.

“But really, I don’t mind if you do want to spend some time with your friends.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “And I’m trying to tell you that I consider us friends.”

Padma beamed at him before asking with a coy look: “Does this mean I get to keep my Sugar Quills?”

Harry laughed at her and, feeling rather more light-hearted, bid her goodnight.

His joyful mood lasted until he reached the fourth year boys’ dormitory. It evaporated rather suddenly as he opened the door and found Ron rummaging through his trunk.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Ron turned to look at him. “There you are!”

“Why the hell are you looking through my trunk?” He took a few steps closer.

“Just looking for the map.”

“What do you want the map for?” It came out a bit more harshly than Harry intended.

Ron gave him a strange look. “What’s the big deal – you’ve never minded before. What’s up with you? ”

Harry waved him off. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, you know. We have lives, too.”

“What? What the hell are you talking about? You know, just forget it, OK? I’m going to bed.” Determined to let the matter drop, Harry flopped onto his four-poster bed and drew the curtains closed.

“You really do believe the world revolves around you, don’t you?” came Ron’s voice floating passed the crimson drapes.

“I said forget it, Ron. I don’t really want to talk to you right now. Not when you’re like this.”

The curtains were abruptly shoved open. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Look, I’ve got a bit of a headache starting and I really don’t want to get into an argument with you right now. Why don’t you just go argue with Hermione and leave me in peace?” And then in a mutter he couldn’t help but add, “Because it’s not like you’ve wanted my company in the last few days.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is all about! You really do think you’re the be-all and end-all, don’t you!”

Propping himself up on his bed, Harry looked at him in shock. “No I don’t! How can you even think that?”

“But it’s true, isn’t it – you think you’re the only one who’s got problems! But you’re wrong; there are other people out there with just as many problems as you.”

Yeah, since there were so many people out there being targeted by Voldemort on an almost yearly basis, thought Harry to himself. He would never say anything like that out loud, though.

“It’s always been about you, but this time it isn’t and you can’t stand it,” continued Ron.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hermione,” said Ron, his tone implying that Harry ought to know what he was referring to.

Harry still had no idea what Ron was on about. “What about Hermione?”

“Well I suppose you were sort of unconscious at the time.”

“Unconscious?” He was completely lost.

Ron was looking at him closely, as though he was trying to determine something. Then, in a quieter, almost disbelieving tone: “You really have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

Harry continued to look at him blankly.

“Hermione’s still pretty messed up over the World Cup,” said Ron finally, lowering himself onto his own bed.

“What?”

Ron sighed; for a moment he looked much older than his fourteen years. “You probably don’t really remember it – you were pretty out of it at the time – but we had to leave those Death Eaters behind in the woods.”

As Ron continued to speak about what had happened that night so many months ago Harry recalled flashes from that time in the woods. A fiery orange haze filling the skyline. An urgent dash through the undergrowth. A decision to condemn two Death Eaters to death.

“There was nothing else we could do; we barely made it out of there ourselves. But Hermione’s still all messed up about it. I keep telling her there was nothing she could have done, but try convincing Hermione of that.”

“Oh,” said Harry.

Ron shot him a wry grin. “Yeah, ‘oh’ just about covers it. That’s usually what I end up saying whenever she brings up another thing which she ‘should have done’.

“I know we did the right thing but I guess it’s a bit of a girl thing. You know, getting all emotional about everything.” Harry seemed to recall that it was actually that other girl who had suggested leaving the Death Eaters behind in the first place, but he decided not to say anything.

“Of course the whole thing’s been hushed up by the Ministry. We were interviewed by the Aurors when you were at St. Mungo’s but none of it was ever published. Hermione thinks that girl and her brother must have some big connections or something.”

“Oh,” said Harry again, finally understanding why his two best friends kept wandering off together.

“But don’t tell Hermione I told you about all this. She sort of doesn’t want you to know. Don’t really know why,” he said with a shrug. “But it’d be great if you could sort of not mention this. I shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. Only, well... you know.”

“Sure thing,” agreed Harry quickly. “And we’re OK, right?”

“Yeah, Harry; we’re OK.”

Harry nodded at that and once again drew his curtains closed. He was glad that his friendship with Ron was still present but it somehow seemed less strong than it had only a few hours ago. Some of Ron’s words ran through his head and Harry wondered if that’s what Ron really thought of him – attention-seeking and arrogant enough to believe that everything revolved him. Is that how people see me, Harry wondered, as some big-headed git who only cares about himself?

No, decided Harry to himself; I’m not like that at all. And, he thought with some reluctance, Ron can’t know me as well as I thought if he thinks I’m like that. Feeling almost traitorous at the thought, Harry pushed it to the back of his mind and instead focused on reading the book he’d removed from the strange, hidden room.

000

As the days to Christmas dwindled down Harry found himself caught up in the holiday spirit. He and Padma continued their explorations and Ron and Hermione continued their disappearing acts. Harry found, though, that he didn’t mind his best friends’ desertion much anymore.

The election results had reached Hogwarts announcing Amelia Bones’s victory. The photo gracing the front of the Daily Prophet showed the new Minister of Magic smiling broadly with a beaming Susan Bones standing to her side.

“I hope she replaces Binns,” said Padma after they read the news at breakfast one morning.

“I’m more hoping for Trelawney to be kicked out. We’re coving planetary movements next and already I’m wondering how she’ll tie it in to me dying horribly.”

Padma gave him a commiserating look. “She can’t be that bad.”

“Oh yes she is. How about you and Parvati swap for a lesson and you can see just how bad she really is,” he suggested.

She winkled her nose slightly. “I think I’m going to have to pass on that, lovely as it sounds. Besides, Trelawney might See that I’m not really Parvati.”

Harry snorted. “Coward.”

“I prefer to think of it as self-preservation. Preserving my brain cells, that is.” She grinned at him impishly and Harry couldn’t help but grin back at her.

But soon the topic of politics was forgotten as they chased each other through the corridors or fought in the snow that littered the castle’s grounds. Harry even found himself reading up on spells to counter-act Padma’s vast array of magic. Somehow it didn’t seem like learning when he practised new spells for the sole purpose of trying to beat the pretty Ravenclaw.

The days seemed to fly by in a whirl and Harry could barely believe it when Christmas Day dawned. He had been startled awake by Dobby looming over him and had quickly unearthed an old, mould pair of Uncle Vernon’s socks to give to the elf.

He and Ron had been joined shortly afterwards by Hermione. After quickly unwrapping all their presents the three of them made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

The four house tables and the teachers’ table had disappeared and in their place was a single wooden table. Only a few staff members were up and of the other five students staying at Hogwarts for Christmas only Padma was present.  

A dart of dread lodged itself straight into his heart as he spotted Padma waving to him from the table. He hadn’t brought her a present. What was worse was the neatly wrapped up gift lying innocently on the table in front of her.

“Bugger.”

Padma didn’t seem upset at the loss of a present, though. “I didn’t really expect one, to be honest. So please don’t feel bad about it. Anyway, I’ve only got you something small. It’s hardly anything, really.”

It was in fact a box of chocoballs – smooth chocolate spheres filled with strawberry mousse and clotted cream. Harry wasn’t a particular fan of chocoballs (there was something about mixing chocolate and fruit that seemed unnatural) but he ate one in front of her with a smile.

“Thanks,” said he. “You really shouldn’t have bothered, though.”

“We’re friends,” was all she said in explanation. For her, Harry realised, it was as simple as that.

The rest of the morning was spent outside in the white expanse that surrounded the rambling stone castle. Only Hermione decided not to join in and merely watch as Padma and Harry ganged up on Ron.

“I only wish snow didn’t have to be so cold,” said Padma as the four of them trudged back into the warmth of the castle. Her dark red winter hat had slipped sideways and was now perched on her head at a rather rakish angle.

Hermione sniffed. “Snow has to be cold since it’s made from frozen water. If it was warm it would just melt.”

Harry rolled his eyes at Padma. She nudged him good-naturedly in return, grinning as they made their way into the Great Hall.

After a magnificent Christmas lunch the quartet split up. Ron and Hermione made their excuses and left Harry and Padma by themselves.

“Do your friends not like me?” Padma asked him. She was gazing at the corridor which Hermione and Ron had just disappeared down.

“Nah, it’s nothing to do with you,” he reassured. “They just want to talk to each other.”

Padma looked curious. “Are they going out or something?”

“No idea,” he said honestly. The suggestion took him by surprise. Ron and Hermione? Together? It defied all logic. “Well, if they are I’m sure they’ll end up killing each other. All they ever do is argue.

“Anyway, since I didn’t get you a present-”

“Don’t worry about it. Really, it’s fine,” she interjected quickly.

“Well I feel bad about it so instead I’m going to show you a common room that you’ve never seen before.”

Padma bit down on her lip. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful or anything, but I’ve sort of seen the Gryffindor common room before. Sorry.”

“You mean to tell me that you’re actually entered the sacred realm of the Gryffindors?” he said in disbelief.

“Sorry. Identical twin sister, you know.”

Harry grinned at her. “I’m only joking. I actually thought we should check out the Slytherin common room.”

At her slightly puzzled look he brought out the Marauder’s Map. He had been considering showing her the map for some time but had hesitated on the grounds of not knowing her that well. After spending the last fortnight almost exclusively with her, though, he thought that he knew her well enough to trust her. But he still didn’t let her hear the password.

“If you look, the only Slytherin here is on the second floor.” He pointed to a dot labelled ‘Emily Gerard’. “So how about it? Let’s go check out the common room. Last time I didn’t really get much of a look around.”

“Last time?”

“Long story. I didn’t even have to sneak in that time. Now, are you coming?”

Padma looked at him with a slightly unsure expression. “We won’t get into trouble, will we?”

“’Course we won’t. Besides, no one’s going to see us. Come on, Padma,” he cajoled, holding out his free hand to her.

She took it in her own and they shared a grin. “I hope I don’t regret this.”

He tugged her down the stone staircase leading to the dungeons. They meandered through the twisting labyrinth of passages. Each stretch of corridor looked identical to the last and only the map kept them from losing their way until at last they drew up to a blank stone wall.

Padma was looking at him inquisitively but Harry instead focused on the map where a speech-bubble had formed next to the dot labelled ‘Harry Potter’. It wasn’t until Harry saw the speech-bubble that he thought about the possibility of the map not revealing the password.

“Cruentis manibus,” said Harry and the pair watched as the stone wall opened to reveal the Slytherin common room.

The low-ceilinged, dungeon-like room glowed with dim pools of green light emanating from lamps hanging mid-air. Slotted into the wall in small alcoves were skulls of varying size. Dominating the room was an elaborate fireplace with snake motifs carved into the wooden frame. Green, high-backed chairs were scattered throughout the room in small clumps.

“It’s a bit depressing, isn’t it,” commented Padma as they walked further into the room.

“Morbid, more like. Look at this,” he was pointing to a small wooden plaque positioned just below one of the skulls. He read: “Henry Abbott, conquest of Edmund Arkendale – night offers cover to all manner of deeds.”

Padma looked horrified. “I’m glad I’m not in Slytherin. Imagine having to see this every day. It’s horrible.”

“Here’s another one: A favour for a favour, old friend.” After the words there was a strange mark. It looked like a small sphere poking out from behind a curved sliver of the moon. Harry became even more disturbed when he noticed the small splotches of dried blood still clinging to the plaque.

Looking around further, Harry noticed two doors branching off the common room. He looked down at his map wondering whether his father and his friends had mapped out the entire complex only to curse. The single dot labelled Emily Gerard was approaching the common room.

“Padma! Padma we need to hide!”

She spun round to face him, her long plait flicking forwards. “What?”

“Gerard’s coming towards us!”

“Who?”

“The Slytherin staying here – you know, the one who’s useless at Quidditch. She’s coming right towards us!” Feeling that she hadn’t quite grasped what was going on yet, he yanked her towards the door closest to him.

It was only just after Harry managed to close the door that they heard the entrance to the common room creak open.

In the eerily green lighting of a winding, damn passageway, Harry gestured for Padma to remain silent. She nodded in agreement looking pensive.

The corridor split off into three different directions. It seemed the labyrinth of the dungeons spread into Slytherin territory.

The sound of muffled voices drifted towards them from the common room itself.

Sharing confused looks – wasn’t there only one person in there? – Harry pressed his ear against the door. He was only able to make out small parts of the conversation.

“...Slytherin...not changed much...” It was a man’s voice.

Shifting slightly, he unfolded the map looking at the Slytherin common room. Three dots were present – Gerard’s, Padma’s and his. Was the map malfunctioning?

He placed his ear back against the door, listening even more intently.

“... beautiful child...”

“... hardly a child.”

The sound of footsteps over the stone floor resounded through the door.  Padma’s hand wormed its way into his as they shared worried looks. It would be so easy for those footsteps to approach the door where they were standing.

Another door slammed shut and the relief was palpable. Padma half-collapsed against him. “That was close.”

“Yeah,” said Harry distractedly. His mind was focused on the Marauder’s Map.

“The map never lies.”

Professor Lupin’s words flashed through his mind and Harry realised that there were only three people alive who could tell him why a person didn’t appear on the map.

Later that night he sat on his bed and began to write.

Dear Sirius...