'No,' replied Sirius, shoving the knife he had been holding through the loop of his belt. 'I'm going to let him out. If he runs to Slytherin, so be it.'
'He'll tear you apart,' said the demon, sounding impressed, either by Sirius' bravery or his stupidity, Sirius wasn't sure.
'Maybe,' said Sirius. 'Maybe not.'
He reached for the cell door -
'Sirius!'
It was Narcissa. She stood at the entrance to the dungeon, very pale in her white robes.
'Sirius,' she said again, catching her breath, and he realized she had been running. 'I think you should read this-' and she held out the folded piece of paper in her hand.
'Ron, be quiet, you'll wake everyone up! Stop clomping your feet.'
'I'm not clomping. I'm just walking.'
'Well, walk more quietly.'
Ron rolled his eyes. Hermione, of course, couldn't see this, since the kitchen was pitch dark. 'Come on, Hermione, everyone's asleep.'
'Except us, of course,' said a voice out of the darkness.
Ron and Hermione both jumped, and stared. The kitchen was suddenly bright with light, revealing Charlie and Ginny sitting together at the kitchen table, looking at them very much askance.
Charlie was holding his wand, from which bright glowing light emanated.
'What are you doing sitting here with the lights off?' Ron demanded indignantly.
'We heard you two whispering while you were coming down the stairs,' said Ginny, looking superior. 'Thought we'd give you a bit of a scare. Ron, why are you carrying a shovel?'
Charlie's raised eyebrow look had turned into a smug sort of grin.
'What are you two doing? Sneaking down here for an illicit midnight snog?'
Ron choked, and turned brick red. Hermione merely looked annoyed. 'Of course we are,' she snapped sarcastically. 'That's why we brought the shovel. They come in so handy during snog sessions.'
Ginny grinned. 'What were you planning on doing with that shovel?'
'I was going to stick this end in the ground,' said Ron, gesturing, 'and then I was going to start digging. I'd tell you more, but after that it gets a little technical.'
'All right,' said Charlie, standing up. 'you have five minutes to explain to me what you're doing sneaking outside in the wee hours of the night with a shovel. Starting now.'
Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Ron shrugged. Hermione sighed, turned back to Charlie and Ginny, and explained.
When she was done, Charlie scratched his head, looking somewhat woeful. 'You realize you can't get to the quarry? The Aurors are under strict instructions to keep us all inside.'
The was a doleful silence, which was broken by Ginny. 'There might be another way,' she said slowly.
Ron perked up his ears. 'What do you mean?'
'When I was down in the cellar yesterday, I noticed when I went down one corridor that the ceiling got damper and damper, and after awhile it started to drip water on me. I think I was going under the quarry.'
Hermione clapped her hands. 'Gin, you're brilliant. Let's go.'
Ron looked green. 'Down into the cellar?' he echoed faintly.
'What's wrong with the cellar?' Hermione demanded.
Ron gestured faintly. 'Spiders…'
'I'll protect you, Ron,' said Charlie, heroically. 'Besides,' he added, dropping his voice, 'I'm dying to see if Fred and George still keep their magazine collection down there.'
As it turned out, Draco was not a bad teacher. Harry was surprised.
He would have thought that Draco would have been — well, like Snape, cranky and impatient and demanding. He was impatient, but he was also meticulous and careful and had insisted Harry start at the very beginning — how to stand, how to salute, how to hold his sword. He had insisted Harry take his shoes off so he could better show him how to stand, and had taken his own shoes off so that when they fought, they would be the same height.
He also, Harry suspected, was cheating. Not in any way that he could exactly put a finger on, but it seemed to Harry that as he himself used the sword, moves that he had never learned flickered in the back of his mind — less their names than a series of electrical impulses that his brain wanted to follow, and a second later he would find that his arm had leaped forward almost of its own accord.
He supposed it was possible that he was simply an amazingly fast learner with an innate knowledge of swordfighting techniques, but he rather suspected that that was not the case. Every time it happened, though, he would glance up and find Draco looking at him blankly and expectantly as if to say, 'Yes? What? Why are you goggling at me, Potter?'
Eventually he decided not to worry about it. It Draco wanted to teach him better swordfighting through telepathy, more power to him. It wasn't as if that made it easy. It was still hard work. Godric's sword was heavy, very heavy, and learning to move in this new way was cramping his muscles. He was soaked in sweat — so was Draco, though — and his shirt was sticking to him.
'Okay,' announced Draco suddenly, breathing hard and backing up a few steps. 'One more time. Try to get past me.'
