'Well, all of us. But we know it isn't your fault-'
'What does your brother say?'
Ginny's face fell.
'Thought so,' said Draco. 'And Harry?'
Ginny bit her lip. 'He's not-'
'Not in the mood for quality time with yours truly?' Draco tried to smile, but it didn't quite come off. 'Unless said quality time involves him smashing my kneecaps in with a toffee hammer, that is.'
'He's actually not — ' she began, and broke off, shaking her head.
'Talk to him yourself,' she said. 'I think they're in the library.'
'All right,' said Draco, not moving. 'I will.'
'I'm sorry I kicked you,' she said, quickly. 'I didn't know about the potion, and I thought-'
He blinked in surprise. She could feel, with her hands on his shoulders, that he was shivering very slightly with cold. 'You're sorry?' he said. 'Or you're sorry for me?'
When Ginny didn't respond, he ducked his head to look at her. She began to pull back, feeling awkward, but he caught her left hand -
the one that wasn't holding the cardigan — and lifted it, brushing his mouth across the back of her fingers so quickly and lightly that if she had blinked, she would have missed it.
'Thanks,' he said, dropping her hand and turning to go.
'For what?' She stared after him, bewildered, as he darted up the stairs. 'For what?'
But he was already out of earshot.
'Draco wouldn't do that,' said Hermione, with finality.
Ron wheeled on her. 'Are you kidding?' he demanded sharply. 'This is Malfoy we're talking about here. It's been the dream of his whole life to do something like that. He's probably sitting somewhere, laughing at all of us, the skulking slimeball.'
Sirius interrupted. 'I agree with Hermione,' he said. 'He wouldn't do that. He's far too proud. Induced love just isn't something that would appeal to him.'
'Not normally, perhaps,' said Lupin, looking grave. 'But as I told him, that sword is a living thing, it has its own malign intelligence.
Prolonged contact with it could warp the bearer's mind and personality, make them do things they wouldn't ordinarily do. Make them a danger…to themselves and other people around them.'
Hermione shook her head. 'This isn't some low-level meanness we're talking about,' she said, quietly. ' He wouldn't put our lives in danger, I really believe that.'
'Sorry, Herm,' said Ron, not ungently. 'But since you're in love with the guy, you're not the most objective character witness. It's not your fault, but there it is.'
Hermione wavered and fell silent, looking furious.
'In fact,' added Ron, eyes dark, 'what if he made some kind of — of trade with Slytherin? He joined up with him, offered him something, and in return he got Hermione. She wouldn't even know. It makes sense he'd offer Malfoy something like that — Malfoy wouldn't be interested in money, or magical power, but this is something he couldn't get on his own. Slytherin's probably got his own little army of demons, so he sent one out to pay a house call on Malfoy but it ran into me and Harry instead…'
Hermione looked desperately over from Lupin and Sirius' grave faces to Harry, who was looking shell- shocked. 'Harry,' she said, and at the sound of her voice saying his name, he jumped slightly, and turned to her. 'You don't believe this, do you?'
'I don't know,' said Harry slowly. 'I don't know what to believe — '
'Maybe you should ask me,' said a low, cool voice from the doorway. 'Or don't you want to know what the skulking slimeball has to say for himself?'
It was Draco.
He stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb in a relaxed manner — but Hermione could tell, from the coiled tension in his shoulders, that he was far from relaxed.
Harry lowered his hands and looked over at Draco. He said, 'How long have you been standing there, Malfoy?'
'Long enough,' said Draco casually. 'I may be a cold-blooded piece of toast, but I've got impeccable timing.'
'Draco — ' Hermione began, starting forward.
Ron caught her arm. 'Let's hear what he has to say for himself, Hermione,' he said.
All the eyes in the room were turned on Draco. He didn't move, didn't change expression, but his silver eyes spat angry sparks. 'I've got nothing to say,' he snarled. 'Except that if you think I'd sell my soul for this, you have even less imagination than I gave you credit for.'
'It takes imagination to give you credit for having a soul in the first place, Malfoy,' said Ron.
For a brief moment, Draco almost looked as if he were going to laugh. 'You'd be surprised,' he said.
'Draco,' said Sirius, leaning forward on the desk, his low voice tense. 'You have to tell us what's been happening. Harry's told us some things that are very disturbing, and we need to know that-'
'You're not my father,' said Draco icily, glaring at Sirius. 'I don't have to tell you anything. What is it you think
