~ Draco ~

Blasted Dark Mark.

It always burns nowadays.

Not that I’m complaining about the pain - I can handle it. It’s just annoying, especially when I’m trying to concentrate on school work.

Like right now.

The only thing that’s keeping me going is the Dark Lord’s plan. They’re going to take Harry. Then brand him with the Dark Mark. And if Harry doesn’t follow his orders, then he will get killed with the Killing Curse.

The Boy Who Lived will become a puppet of the Dark Side.

I smirk whenever I think about it.

The thought is a thread of hope, a beam of light in my mind. As much as I’ve taken a liking to the idea, a weak part of me couldn’t shake the thought off that no one deserves such an ending - not even Potter.

But those types of thoughts are for the weak.

I push them away.

My thoughts are nothing but a distraction from my blasted schoolwork, so I give up trying to write my essay.

I might as well make some progress on the Vanishing Cabinet.

~ Hermione ~

Transfiguration. Right.

I’m dragging Harry and Ron with me down the corridors to get to the Transfiguration Classroom.

While many of the Gryffindors are skipping class to continue the party, I can not let Harry and Ron ruin their futures for some short-term gratification.

“Wait! Hermione, I swear I just want to -”

“Ronald Weasley! Do you have any idea of the gravity of the situation that you’re making? Your grades in these classes are your future, and if you don’t work hard now -”

“I forgot my homework!” Ron stops in the corridor and throws his hands up in the air in annoyance.

I pause at his statement and raise my eyebrows. “What?”

Such a ridiculous thing is beyond me.

Yet sure enough, Ron has forgotten his book bag.

Harry volunteers to go with him. As a friend. For support.

“Won’t you both be late then?” I ask.

“Ron’s a friend, Hermione. I can’t just let him go back up on his own.”

“... can’t we just summon the book bag?” I look at Harry incredulously.

Harry falters. “Well, you see, the book bag is kind of far away…”

“... but you managed to summon the Firebolt in the middle of a battle with a dragon in your fourth year with no problem? We’re sixth years now! Shouldn’t your magic have gotten stronger by then as well?”

Harry says nothing. Ron shrugs.

I glare at them. All this partying has surely lowered their intellect.

“I can summon it for you if you’d like,” I suggest.

“Oh! Uh, that’s great, Hermione, but… you know… we still need to get… exercise? That’s important, right?” Harry scratches the back of his head sheepishly.

I give each of them a glare.

Then I figured it wouldn’t be too bad of an idea to teach them a lesson. Let them be late; they’ll learn eventually. Gryffindors learn best from experience after all, not lectures.

“Fine,” I sigh, shaking my head. “You do you.”

I watch as they gratefully run off back the way we came. But that’s when a thought comes to me.

Could they be hiding something?

No matter. If I ponder such ridiculous things right before class, I’m going to be late for Transfiguration.

I continue running down the corridor, my book bag absolutely full of homework. It feels heavier than usual, even with a feather-light charm, probably because I’m so aware of it now. The atmosphere feels more tense than before. I shake my head again to clear my thoughts, just as I pass the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor.

I get down three more flights of stairs. It feels like an hour has passed, within just a few minutes. A weight has settled into me. One of concern. I pass it off as Harry’s and Ron’s absence. They’ll get back soon, surely…

I keep running down the flights of stairs. Then, on the correct floor, I approach the Transfiguration classroom.

It’s nowhere to be found.

Confused, alarmed, I look around me.

On the right is the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Then I take a second glance.

Wait a second.

Isn’t that tapestry supposed to be on the seventh floor?