"Scabbers. Just where do you think you're going?"
Ron Weasley grumbled at Scabbers, who was waddling along three paces ahead of him.
Having spotted Scabbers while wandering the halls of Hogwarts, Ron had already offered a silent apology to Crookshanks in his head. As Harry and Hermione had said, the cat was innocent—at least of the charge of killing Scabbers. The charge of attacking him and frightening him half to death was another matter, but either way, Ron needed to show Scabbers to Hermione. That much was certain.
The trouble was, Scabbers kept slipping out of his grasp. No matter how many times Ron tried to catch him and stuff him into his pocket, the rat simply wouldn't be caught. Yet he didn't bolt entirely—which suggested, oddly enough, that he was trying to lead Ron somewhere.
"Found something and dragging me along to see it? Nobody ever told me Scabbers was this clever."
Scabbers would stare at Ron, then only move when Ron drew close. Ron grumbled and followed.
Past Hagrid's hut, to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Ron stopped dead as the memory of last year's spiders surfaced, but Scabbers was still watching him with that impatient look.
Every instinct told him to turn back. But he couldn't just leave—he knew how desperately Harry and Hermione had been searching for Scabbers. For their sake, he had to bring the rat back.
Ron scratched his head and took a few steps after the rat. He stepped over tree roots, pushed through undergrowth, moving deeper into the forest one step at a time.
And then, at some point, Ron realized he could no longer see Scabbers at all.
"Hey? Scabbers. Where are you? Scabbers!"
Had he gone into the bushes? Ron bent down to search the ground—and a dark shadow reared up suddenly from above.
***
Malfoy was still touching her lips, the feeling not yet faded.
What on earth had that been? What was it supposed to mean? No—what had even happened?
Surely he wasn't just teasing her for calling him a half-blood? But even if he wanted to tease her, to actually k—ki—kiss her—
Thump. Thump.
Malfoy beat the innocent mattress. Once with her fist, once with just her legs.
She buried her face in the pillow, shook her head back and forth for a moment, then snapped it back up.
"No. Why should I be rattled?"
Carina Malfoy never loses her composure—not anywhere, not at any time. The very Harry Potter in question was probably off gallivanting with Hermione Granger right now, and it made no sense whatsoever that Malfoy alone was lying face-down on her bed, trying to manage a heart that wouldn't settle.
Right. Over one measly kiss.
Thump. Thump.
Malfoy buried her face again and punched the mattress. The mattress didn't even deign to flinch at her feeble blows.
And so she passed the time—lifting her head, beating the bed, lifting her head again.
It was, frankly, a spectacle that would have made anyone who witnessed it cringe on her behalf.
Just then, Malfoy's drawer rattled sharply. She startled, clutched her pillow, and sat very still—then glanced around to see if something had passed by.
Confirming no one was nearby, she reached out and quietly slid the drawer open.
Inside, a small ring was glowing.
"Hmph. What is it? Did it shake?"
Malfoy stared at the ring for a moment, then glanced around once more and snatched it up quickly. She drew the curtains around her bed and turned the ring over in her fingers.
She couldn't say why. Until just a moment ago, she hadn't even wanted to look at it—but now, for some reason, she had a sudden urge to try it on. It was small and compact, a little rough-hewn, but somehow she felt it would suit her hand perfectly. Malfoy held it up delicately, deliberated briefly between her index and ring finger, then settled—somewhat arbitrarily—on her middle finger.
The ring, enchanted to resize automatically, slid onto her finger with ease. Worn on the middle finger, it looked a bit too symmetrical to be flattering. She reached to shift it one finger over—
The ring flared red.
Malfoy was on her feet in an instant.
Red. The signal that the owner of the ring's matching pair was in mortal danger.
Before she had even consciously registered whose ring it was, she had already grabbed her wand and stood up. She was hurriedly checking the ring when its colour shifted.
Pink. Currently in the company of a romantic partner.
"What?"
It was like cold water thrown over her head. Malfoy stared at the ring again, but the ring seemed to have malfunctioned—it flickered back and forth between red and pink.
She had no idea what was happening, but one thing was clear.
Either colour was reason enough for her to go.
Malfoy gripped her wand and strode out.
"Carina, where are you going?"
"Out for a moment."
"Be back soon. Curfew's almost up!"
Malfoy hesitated. Unlike Harry Potter, she had no Invisibility Cloak, and slipping outside without being noticed was far too conspicuous.
She clicked her tongue and thought for a moment.
She lacked the authority. In situations like this, she needed to borrow a teacher's.
Malfoy had always been adept at wielding power, and she had never hesitated to enlist a professor's assistance when it suited her.
Everything in the world existed for Carina Malfoy's benefit. Even if that something happened to be a professor, there was no reason she couldn't make use of it.
Malfoy headed for Professor Lupin's office. Her reasoning: Lupin, of all people, would help her go looking for Harry Potter even past curfew.
"Professor?"
There was no answer, but Professor Lupin's door was ajar. Malfoy pushed it open without knocking. The room looked exactly as before—with one difference: Lupin himself was nowhere to be seen.
Malfoy stepped further inside, glancing around, when a worn piece of parchment spread open on the desk caught her eye. It was the same one Lupin had kept checking throughout their conversation. Malfoy went to the desk and examined it.
The Marauder's Map.
A magical map of Hogwarts drawn floor by floor, with labelled footprints moving across it in real time.
Malfoy reached for it, then felt something slide and put out her hand. Her fingers closed around a cloak—smooth, silky, and strangely weightless.
"A map and an Invisibility Cloak?"
She didn't know about the map, but the Invisibility Cloak was surely Harry Potter's. Had he left it with Lupin for safekeeping?
She couldn't say, but regardless, Malfoy decided to make the most of the opportunity. She wrapped the Invisibility Cloak around herself and stepped outside.
It smelled of something warm and rather conspicuous—as though it had just been laundered.
Checking the map, she spotted the labelled footprint of Argus Filch heading toward the main gate. He was probably going to lock up.
Malfoy ran immediately. Under normal circumstances she would never lower herself to sprinting through corridors, but since no one could see her, it hardly mattered.
Carina Malfoy, cloaked in invisibility, reached the front gate without a single interruption. Filch was already making his way over to lock it.
Malfoy slipped ahead of him and pushed the gate open. The wooden hinges groaned with a long creak.
"Who's there! Curfew's long past—what sort of wretch comes crawling in at this hour!"
Filch shouted, but he had no eyes to see through an Invisibility Cloak. Malfoy walked through the gate and out into the grounds without breaking stride.
Just as the door swung shut behind her, she caught Filch's muttering.
"What's this. Peeves playing tricks again?"
Malfoy found herself newly appreciating just how remarkable Harry Potter's possessions were.
A map that showed everyone's location in real time, with secret passages and shortcuts recorded throughout. With something like this, of course he could appear in Hogsmeade without being caught. Add the Invisibility Cloak on top of that, and it was no wonder he'd never once been caught despite all his rule-breaking.
He had been caught by Malfoy when the Chamber of Secrets was opened, of course—but even now, she wasn't entirely sure whether Harry Potter had let her catch him on purpose or whether she'd genuinely caught him off guard.
"No, this isn't the time. I need to find the direction—"
The ring also had a function that indicated the direction of its matching pair. Malfoy checked it again. Her expression hardened.
The ring was no longer flickering between pink and red. A deep, blood-red glow pulsed with ominous urgency, warning of Harry Potter's danger.
"What on earth is he doing now..."
Malfoy clenched her fist and moved to go—
And at that moment, a blinding white light flashed from somewhere deep in the Forbidden Forest. From the exact direction the ring was pointing, a silver wave rippled outward like a burst of pale fireworks.
There was no more time to waste. Running wouldn't even be enough.
I should have moved sooner, Malfoy thought, already regretting it as she turned toward the Forbidden Forest—then stopped.
The Forbidden Forest at night was dangerous. Even with Lumos to light the way, picking through roots and stones would take far too long. If only she had a broomstick, she could have flown straight there.
As that thought crossed her mind, Hagrid's hut came into view.
Hippogriff Buckbeak had been placed under a restraining order and couldn't be left to roam freely like the other hippogriffs. Hagrid, apparently feeling sorry for him, had tied him up in the back garden and looked after him—taking him for the occasional walk.
Which meant there was a hippogriff she could ride, right now, in the back garden.
Malfoy shoved the Invisibility Cloak and the map into her robes and hurried around to the back of the hut.
As expected, the hippogriff was tethered to a post in the back garden. He looked entirely unbothered by the fact, wearing an expression of serene indifference.
Typical beast, Malfoy thought, clicking her tongue softly as she stepped in front of Buckbeak. She had plenty of complaints, but she was the one who needed something right now.
She quickly recalled what she'd been taught.
Make eye contact. Bow first. Wait until the hippogriff bows back.
"Hello, Buckbeak?"
Malfoy got his attention first. When Buckbeak fixed his large eyes on her, Malfoy forced a smile and gathered her skirt slightly. She intended to offer the most respectful bow she was capable of.
It was more than any mere beast deserved—but this was an emergency. Malfoy bent her knees fully and dipped her head low.
When she raised her head again, Buckbeak was still watching her with his chin lifted in that imperious way.
After she'd lowered herself that far, and he still had that insufferable attitude.
Irritation flared—but Malfoy looked at the ring and let it go.
"Please, Buckbeak. Every second counts right now."
Malfoy stared at the hippogriff, her urgency barely contained. Perhaps her desperation reached him—Buckbeak stirred, and then, as if mirroring her, spread his wings slightly and bent his forelegs.
The sight of him dipping his head like a person, with something almost like dignity, made Malfoy laugh despite herself.
"I take back what I said before. You're rather more mannerly than you look."
The words had barely left her mouth when Buckbeak let out a rough, indignant snort. Malfoy flinched.
"...No, no. I was joking. You're a perfectly lovely, well-mannered creature."
Malfoy stepped forward quickly and untied the rope. She gave his neck a single stroke, and Buckbeak obligingly offered her his back.
She wasn't Harry Potter's equal in the air, but Malfoy was no poor flier. After two attempts, she pulled herself up onto Buckbeak's back and said:
"Let's go, Buckbeak!"
Buckbeak spread his great wings and launched into the sky.
Malfoy felt a fierce rush of freedom. It was nothing like a broomstick—every beat of the wings sent her body lurching up and down—but the simple fact that she didn't have to crawl through the dark forest on foot to find Harry Potter was satisfaction enough.
The forest below was swallowed in darkness, nothing but texture and shadow. Malfoy squinted and scanned the treeline, and found the lakeshore where the light had flared.
"That way!"
Buckbeak flew straight as an arrow, as though he'd understood her perfectly.
The full moon hung bright and full overhead, but the forest around Hogwarts had no artificial light whatsoever. In this kind of darkness, she felt she could fly straight into a cliff face without ever seeing it coming.
Still, hippogriffs were said to see through darkness with those great eyes of theirs. Malfoy trusted Buckbeak and guided him calmly.
As the destination drew near, Malfoy pressed gently down on Buckbeak's back. He began to descend in a slow, steady glide.
At last, Buckbeak landed at the edge of the lake. Malfoy, who had been crouching low, half-tumbled off his back in her haste.
"*Lumos.*"
A pale light washed over the lakeshore. Malfoy extended her wand in the direction the ring was pointing.
Several people lay motionless on the ground. One of them was slowly, painfully pushing himself upright.
Malfoy called out.
"Potter? Are you all right?"
The ring's colour shifted. Purple—alert level. Far less dire than mortal danger.
It seemed the crisis had ended before she arrived. Or perhaps it had ended the moment she got here.
Either way, Malfoy approached with considerably more relief.
"Hmph. You said you didn't need my help, and look at the state of you. Collapsed in a heap, the lot of you—what is this, a group camping trip—"
A growl.
Malfoy went rigid. She raised her wand slowly, eyes tracing the shape in the shadows.
The figure that had just risen was, in a word, a beast. Dense, matted fur. Savage eyes. A gaunt body with the ridge of its spine jutting through the skin. Long forelimbs ending in sharp claws. It looked like a wolf, but the snout and skull were closer to human.
It was the spitting image of the werewolf she had researched for her coursework.
Her eyes caught the reflection of the full moon on the surface of the lake. Under any other circumstances she might have paused to admire it—it was genuinely beautiful—but right now it was nothing but terrifying.
Because she knew. She knew that Remus Lupin was a werewolf.
Malfoy's voice came out unsteady.
"Um... Professor Lupin, by any chance?"
"RAAAAGH!"
The werewolf lunged at her. Malfoy thrust her wand forward and shouted the incantation.
"*Ex—Expelliarmus!*"
But she was too rattled—her aim went wide. The werewolf surged forward, more frenzied than before, and Malfoy screamed and threw herself down.
"AHHH!"
I always said a werewolf had no business being a teacher, Malfoy thought, squeezing her eyes shut—
A violent rush of wings. Then a howl of pain that rang in her ears. The sounds were nothing like what she'd braced for. Malfoy cracked one eye open.
Buckbeak had reared up on his hind legs and was bearing down on the werewolf with his forelegs raised. The werewolf yelped in pain, and when Buckbeak beat his wings again with a thunderous crack, the creature startled and fled crashing into the forest.
"You—you—did you just protect me?"
Whomp.
Buckbeak ruffled his wings with magnificent indifference, as though it had been nothing at all. Malfoy straightened her robes and said:
"H—hmph. Not bad at all. I acknowledge your efforts. When we get back, I'll bring you the finest cut of meat as a reward."
She turned her wand back toward the others. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Sirius Black were all sprawled across the ground. A short distance away, Malfoy noticed a squat figure who had also collapsed—completely bald on top, and looking as though he hadn't been properly cared for in years.
Malfoy felt a visceral wave of revulsion and looked away.
She went to Harry Potter.
"Potter, Potter? Are you alive?"
No matter how many times she called, Harry Potter didn't stir. A cold thought seized her, and she held two fingers beneath his nose.
He was breathing, thankfully. But it would clearly be some time before he recovered consciousness.
The others were the same. Ron, Hermione, even Sirius Black—none of them showed any sign of waking. Whatever had happened here, they were all lying utterly spent.
Sirius Black, in particular, was covered in claw wounds from head to toe. He had clearly fought the werewolf.
Malfoy concluded that she couldn't possibly carry all of them back to Hogwarts on her own—and raised her wand toward the sky.
"*Periculum!*"
The signal spell fired, and a burst of coloured sparks shot upward. Malfoy kept firing, waiting for someone to see her signal.
Her arm was beginning to ache when a figure emerged from the darkness. Malfoy tensed—then recognized who it was and lowered her wand.
"Professor Snape!"
"Carina. What is the meaning of this?"
Snape's brow furrowed as he swept his gaze around. Ron, Hermione, Harry Potter, and Sirius Black. As he took in each face, Snape's expression set like stone.
Malfoy lifted her chin and answered.
"I heard a commotion and came to investigate. I found them all collapsed. I couldn't move them on my own, so I sent up a signal for help. And you, Professor?"
"Someone sent me a forged letter. Claimed the Ministry of Magic had summoned me... but it was a hoax. When I find out who—"
Snape muttered darkly as he raised his wand.
"But... this has worked out rather well. I've been handed a fine opportunity. Well done, Carina..."
His face was half-lit with something like exhilaration, the other half cold fury. Snape smiled—a thin, unpleasant smile—and walked toward Sirius Black.
"Sirius Black, caught at last... The Dementors will be pleased. I'll hand him over the moment we arrive—let him receive the Kiss..."
Malfoy's mind raced. She knew Sirius Black was on Harry Potter's side—and that she herself had been working toward the same end.
But Professor Snape was a Death Eater, and he considered her an ally. The truth would not persuade him.
She thought quickly. What was the way to keep Sirius Black alive without arousing unnecessary suspicion?
Malfoy reached her conclusion faster than she ever had before.
"Wait. Professor—I'm the one who caught Sirius Black."
Snape's eyes narrowed as Malfoy stepped forward.
"What?"
"I was the first to find them. And I was the one who called you here with the signal spell. I have the right to decide what happens to Sirius Black."
Snape studied her eyes for a moment, then shook his head slowly. He began to explain, in a measured tone.
"Carina. Have I not told you? The truth is irrelevant. What matters is the outcome—and Sirius Black is a traitor. To everyone."
"The truth is only irrelevant when there's no way to know it."
Malfoy raised her chin and spoke with perfect composure.
"But that isn't the case here. We have a rare opportunity to interrogate a dangerous criminal—the truth is sitting right inside his head—and you want to throw it away? We can't do that. We should take him in, use Veritaserum or whatever it takes, and get to the bottom of it."
It was a flawless argument—and it happened to be true. Snape stroked his chin, visibly tempted.
Sensing the plan was working, Malfoy drove it home.
"That is what I've decided to do. So, Professor Snape—please transport them back to Hogwarts."
"...Very well. I'll defer to you. There's no shortage of time."
Snape flicked his wand, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Sirius Black all rose into the air. Another flick, and ropes wound themselves tightly around Sirius Black's body.
Snape seemed to take particular satisfaction in the fact of Sirius Black being bound. The ropes were tied more securely than anything else that evening. Even his carefully guarded expression couldn't quite conceal a flicker of pleasure.
There was clearly some unspeakable history between those two. Malfoy was curious—but given her own precarious position, she thought it wiser not to press.
"Let's go."
Something nagged at Malfoy—a sense that the numbers were off. The Gryffindor trio. Sirius Black. And also...
Malfoy's head snapped around.
The squat figure who had been lying some distance away was gone.
It felt uncanny, like something out of a dream—but she had no interest in some ugly stranger she didn't even know, so Malfoy pushed the unease aside.
"Stay close behind me, Carina."
"Yes, Professor."
Malfoy followed Snape at a measured pace. By some coincidence, Harry Potter was floating along directly beside her—lying flat on his back, arms hanging limp at his sides.
She told herself she was glad he was alive. But seeing him lying there like a corpse, arms dangling uselessly, was not a particularly pleasant sight.
She had thought saving someone's life would give her a greater sense of superiority.
All the way through the Forbidden Forest, Malfoy walked beside him with her lips pressed shut.
Hogwarts erupted into chaos.
Three unconscious students. Sirius Black, trussed up and floating through the air. And the ones who had brought him: Carina Malfoy and Professor Snape.
Professor Dumbledore received word and arrived in haste. Snape described Sirius Black in the worst possible terms, within the limits of what he actually knew.
After hearing the account, Professor Dumbledore looked at Malfoy and asked her to wait in a side room for a moment. She had no idea what he intended to say, but she nodded.
Left alone in the side room, briefly free from everyone's attention, Malfoy sat quietly in a chair.
Then she received a rather unexpected visitor.
Harry Potter—covered in wounds, a watch chain in one hand and his wand in the other—was standing in front of her.
"Malfoy. Come with me."
"What are you talking about?"
Malfoy answered with irritation. It was absurd, hearing this from someone who had been lying there like a corpse not five minutes ago.
"Shouldn't you still be flat on your back? I have no intention of going anywhere with a walking corpse. Go eat some chocolate and sleep."
"I can't. I have to go. With you."
It made no sense. Under normal circumstances she might have told him to stop talking nonsense.
But the word with made Malfoy willing to hear the next sentence.
The fact that Harry Potter's expression was more serious than she had ever seen it was another reason.
"I'm going to face the Dementors."
As though it were already a fixed point in the future, Harry Potter said it calmly.
"The only way to fight Dementors is the Patronus Charm. To cast it, you have to hold onto a happy memory."
Advanced magic she had only ever heard of. But Harry Potter had done it before—conjured a Patronus while flying on his broomstick during a Quidditch match.
Carina felt a small, sharp pang of envy, and was about to snap at him about what any of this had to do with her—
"So come with me. So that I can cast the Patronus Charm."
Malfoy would probably make a great show of it afterward.
She would say something that sounded like she was sizing Harry Potter up, then accept his request with an air of reluctant magnanimity—as though she were doing him a favour, as though she had no choice.
But whatever she said after this. However many times Carina Malfoy pushed and pulled.
In this moment, the future was already decided:
Malfoy would nod—and she would mean it.