'Ginny-' Ron began to move forward, but at a sharp gesture from Charlie, froze in place.
Slytherin turned and began to walk towards Ginny. 'Helga,' he said, his eyes as bleak and dark as wounds in his face. 'You were kindest of them all. And yet, in the end, you betrayed me too.'
Ginny reached out and snatched up a chair, holding it between her and the Snake Lord. 'Don't come near me,' she hissed, fiercely.
'Or what? You will strike me with that rather cheap-looking piece of furniture? Go right ahead. You cannot hurt me.'
As quietly as she could, Hermione began to fumble in her pockets for her wand. She couldn't just stand there and watch Slytherin advance on Ginny -
'She said not to come near her,' came a quiet voice from behind Ginny. 'But then I guess listening isn't one of your strong points.'
Slytherin paused.
The shadows parted, and Draco stepped forward onto the stairs, moving slowly and deliberately. He had changed out of his pajamas but his feet were bare, and in his hand was the sword.
He's still weak, Hermione thought. He still hurts, and that's why he's moving so slowly, but he continued down the stairs as if nothing were wrong, as if his slowness of pace was nothing more than an expression of insolence. 'I mean, sure you can turn into a big snake and all. But really quality listening, you know, that's important too.'
He was standing on the bottom stair now, next to Ginny. She was still holding the chair. Draco didn't look at her, although he was obviously very aware that she was there. But his eyes were fixed on Slytherin. 'You came here for me,' he said in a clear, quiet voice.
'Why don't you let the rest of them go?'
Slytherin smiled. It was much worse than Hermione had thought it would be. 'What makes you think I came here for you?'
Draco paled slightly. His eyes darted almost imperceptibly towards Harry and Hermione. And she nearly jumped out of her skin in astonishment. She could have sworn Draco had not moved his lips, yet she could also have sworn he had suddenly spoken, have sworn she heard him say urgently to Harry, Get her out of here.
And Harry — Harry replied. Distract him.
Hermione felt Harry's hand slip into her hand — the one not holding the Lycanthe — his fingers tight on her own, although he didn't look at her.
Draco's pale eyes widened, then narrowed. He looked at Slytherin.
'Am I to take it, then,' he asked coolly, 'that the offer Wormtail made me still stands?'
At that, Slytherin seemed to tense. Hermione couldn't help staring at his hands. They were so long and pale and thin they looked like white tarantula legs. 'You don't like being told what to do,' said the Snake Lord softly. 'But think on this. Join with me, and no one will ever be able to tell you what to do again. Not your father. Not anyone.'
'My father's dead,' said Draco flatly. He raised the sword like a barrier between himself and the Snake Lord. 'As you well know.'
'Honor your father's memory then, and join with me. It is what he wanted for you. What you were born for. Or have you no blood loyalty?'
Draco stood silently. He had gone very white, and for that moment Hermione thought that in fact he did look very much like Lucius, and even more like the man in her dream, who had sweated and screamed with the pain of the venom in his veins. But when he spoke, his voice was controlled and careful. 'I have no loyalty to a line both weak and corrupt,' he said. 'I want more than that. Can you offer me more than that?'
Slytherin's eyebrows drew together. Unlike Draco, he did not seem controlled, merely detached. But all his attention was focused on Draco, that much was evident. Harry's hand tightened on Hermione's, and she felt him begin to draw her aside towards the door. They moved as silently as possible, not looking at each other, only inching, slowly, towards the door that led to the garden.
'Perhaps you do not understand what your dreams are telling you,' said Slytherin to Draco. 'Perhaps I need to tell you a story.'
'Ooh, I like stories,' said Draco. 'Especially if it's one of those stories about a girls' boarding school and involves treacle and a pillow fight.'
This time Slytherin merely looked as if he didn't understand. His long spidery fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides. Hermione wanted to scream at Draco for provoking him, even though she knew he was doing it on purpose. He had told Harry to get her out of there, Harry and Hermione were nearly at the door now. Draco didn't seem to be looking at either of them, but once again she heard his voice, as she had heard it before, speaking to Harry. Hurry up and get her out of here.
That's what I'm trying to do!
Draco turned his attention back to Slytherin. 'You know, we've been awfully rude hosts,' he said. 'Can we offer you anything to drink?
Coffee? Tea? Hydrochloric acid?'
'You cannot kill me,' Slytherin said.
'There are a lot of things I can't do,' said Draco equably. 'I can't ballroom dance. I can't see the point of pegged trousers. I can't understand why people own gerbils. I can't make a chocolate souffle that won't fall. I can't — '
'Your attempts to be funny are merely annoying,' said Slytherin coldly. 'But your attempts to distract me are actually dangerous.
Not for me — for you.'
He raised his hand.
And several things happened at once. Draco moved back quickly, pushing Ginny behind him. Harry and
