It was well past midnight and the seventh floor of Hogwarts lay deserted. The only sounds that pierced the darkness were the weak sleepy grunts coming from inhabitants of the many portraits scattered throughout the floor. The cold November air chilled the stone walls as a hooded figure crept slowly from the shadows to stand opposite the slumbering bodies of Barnabas the Barmy and his dance class of hopelessly left-footed trolls. Yet instead of passing by this seemingly normal portion of the bare stone wall, the figure stopped for a moment, staring at the wall as if willing something to happen. All of a sudden a door appeared, and just as quietly as he had appeared in the hall, Draco Malfoy slipped inside the Room of Requirement.
As Draco stepped through the door, he was greeted by a cavernous room filled with artifacts of every shape and size, some whirling and spinning, some hanging menacingly from the ceiling, others simply strewn about waiting to be used. Lining the walls were dusty bookshelves filled with ancient volumes, ranging from Dark Arts of the Dark Ages to 1001 Deadly Potions. The scene reminded him somewhat of Knockturn Alley, and for a moment Malfoy half expected to find Mr. Borgin attending to the grisly instruments. In one corner of the room sat what appeared to be the badly damaged remains of a cabinet which Malfoy thought seemed oddly out of place, but before he could pay the cabinet another thought he was startled by a roar coming from the opposite side of the room. A fire had just sprung to life in an ornate fireplace along the back wall, and he found himself invitingly drawn to it to escape the cold draft coming from the hallway behind him. Even more disturbing than the shock of the roaring fire springing to life was the fact that Malfoy had remembered closing the door on his way in.
A chill crawled up his spine.
“Hello Draco,” uttered a familiar voice from behind him.
“I wasn’t expecting too see you here Snape,” shot Malfoy as he whirled around.
“That’s Professor Snape. You are still a student here, even if the Dark Lord has seen fit to make you his follower.”
“Still brooding over his decision to entrust me with such an important mission, aren’t you Professor,” said Malfoy smartly.
For a second Malfoy caught the slightest tinge of resentment spread across Snape’s face, but in an instant it was replaced by the same cold calculating mask.
“Do you really think he gave you this mission because he valued your service above mine?” Snape said. “The sooner you understand that you are expendable in his eyes, the easier it will be for you to drop your arrogant façade and accept my help. You cannot do this alone Draco. Your mother saw fit to seek me out and implore me to swear an Unbreakable Vow that I would do everything in my power to help you. Even she is aware of the danger that you have not yet come to understand Draco. Your father is imprisoned in Azkaban “”
“It will only be a matter of time before father escapes like the others! And when he does he will not want to hear of you interfering in the business of the Dark Lord. I have my doubts about your loyalty to him, and “”
“I see your Aunt has imparted to you more than her skill at Occlumency. I do not have to explain my loyalty to you Draco. The Dark Lord sees fit to trust me, and that should be more than enough reason for you.”
“I can decide for myself who “”
“Enough!” said Snape menacingly. “I am not here to debate with you. I am here to offer you my help and protection, or if you’d prefer I can go wake Professor Dumbledore and invite him to assist you.”
“I’m not asking for help from anyone. All I want is for you to leave me alone and stop sticking your nose in my business with him.”
“As you wish Draco,” Snape conceded, “but don’t think for a second that I won’t have my eye on you every step of the way. I am here for your help and protection, even if you won’t willingly accept it.”
With that, Snape turned and strode out of the room, disappearing down the hall just as quietly as he had come.
As Malfoy watched him go, any anger for Snape that had stirred in the last few minutes drained away as the grim reality of his mission became clear. Despite any recent mistrust for his mentor, Malfoy had begun to see that Snape was his only true ally. Crabbe and Goyle made good friends for sure, but only Snape truly understood the weight of service Malfoy felt increasing every day since his return to Hogwarts. The night he had accepted his mission and joined Voldemort’s followers, all Malfoy had been thinking about was how proud his parents must have been. Even in the darkness of the graveyard ceremony, Malfoy had seen his father’s smile from under his hood as Malfoy swore an oath to the Dark Lord. Now in the middle of the night, mere steps from his target, Malfoy was not the same confident young man he had been last summer. Over the past months he had increasingly been plagued by nightmares and insomnia, and he often found he could not rest without assuring himself that the Dark Lord must be far away from the relative comfort of Hogwarts.
As he made his way to sit in front of the fireplace, Malfoy could not help but see the truth in Snape’s words. Why had Voldemort entrusted such an important task to him? Despite his impressive magical ability, Malfoy was still just a student. Professor Snape would have been a much more practical choice for the job, especially because of his close proximity to Dumbledore. Was the Dark Lord’s decision a way of getting revenge on Lucius? No, it couldn’t have been. No one could claim that Lucius had not been loyal to Voldemort during the Dark Lord’s absence. He had been forced to lie to the Wizengamot to stay out of Azkaban, but with Aunt Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters sent away it was only right that Lucius do everything in his power to stay out of prison. He could not have assisted the Dark Lord by allowing himself to be thrown in Azkaban. Lucius had remained loyal to Voldemort, even if he had been forced to do so in secret, and Voldemort could not have asked or expected anything more from one of his servants, and yet . . . No, Voldemort was very pleased with Lucius, and thus had given Draco the most important task of killing Dumbledore as way to thank Lucius and bring honor to the Malfoys. That must be the reason . . .
Lost in his thoughts, Malfoy had barely begun to notice how warm and comfortable the fire was or how weary he was. Very soon he found himself drifting off, still wondering whether or not he could complete the task set before him.