“Yeah, it’s great,” said Ron glumly, who was attempting to mop up the sodden mass of ink chat had recently been an almost completed essay. Hermione pulled it toward her and began siphoning the ink off with her wand.
“But what’s all this about him going up there with ‘a variety of students’?” said Hermione. “How many people are in on it? You wouldn’t think he’d trust lots of them to know what he’s doing—”
“Yeah, that is weird,” said Harry, frowning. “I heard him telling Crabbe it wasn’t Crabbe’s business what he was doing… so what’s he telling all these… all these…”
Harry’s voice tailed away; he was staring at the fire. “God, I’ve been stupid,” he said quietly. “Its obvious, isn’t it? There was a great vat of it down in the dungeon… He could’ve nicked some any time during that lesson…”
“Nicked what?” said Ron.
“Polyjuice Potion. He stole some of the Polyjuice Potion Slughorn showed us in our first Potions lesson… There aren’t a whole variety of students standing guard for Malfoy… it’s just Crabbe and Goyle as usual… Yeah, it all fits!” said Harry, jumping up and starting to pace in front of the fire. “They’re stupid enough to do what they’re told even if he won’t tell them what he’s up to, but he doesn’t want them to be seen lurking around outside the Room of Requirement, so he’s got them taking Polyjuice to make them look like other people… Those two girls I saw him with when he missed Quidditch—ha! Crabbe and Goyle!”
“Do you mean to say,” said Hermione in a hushed voice, “that that little girl whose scales I repaired—?”
“Yeah, of course!” said Harry loudly, staring at her. “Of course! Malfoy must’ve been inside the room at the time, so she—what am I talking about?—he dropped the scales to tell Malfoy not to corne out, because there was someone there! And there was that girl who dropped the toadspawn too! We’ve been walking past him all the time and not realizing it!”
“He’s got Crabbe and Goyle transforming into girls?” guffawed Ron. “Blimey… no wonder they don’t look too happy these days. I’m surprised they don’t tell him to stuff it.”
“Well, they wouldn’t, would they, if he’s shown them his Dark Mark?” said Harry.
“Hmmm… the Dark Mark we don’t know exists,” said Hermione skeptically, rolling up Ron’s dried essay before it could come to any more harm and handing it to him.
“We’ll see,” said Harry confidently.
“Yes, we will,” Hermione said, getting to her feet and stretching. “But, Harry, before you get all excited, I still don’t think you’ll be able to get into the Room of Requirement without knowing what’s there first. And I don’t think you should forget”—she heaved her bag onto her shoulder and gave him a very serious look—“that what you’re supposed to be concentrating on is getting that memory from Slughorn. Good night.”
Harry watched her go, feeling slightly disgruntled. Once the door to the girls’ dormitories had closed behind her he rounded on Ron.
“What d’you think?”
“Wish I could Disapparate like a house-elf,” said Ron, staring at the spot where Dobby had vanished. “I’d have that Apparition Test in the bag.”
Harry did not sleep well that night. He lay awake for what felt like hours, wondering how Malfoy was using the Room of Requirement and what he, Harry, would see when he went in there the following day, for whatever Hermione said, Harry was sure that if Malfoy had been able to see the headquarters of the D.A., he would be able to see Malfoy’s, what could it be? A meeting place? A hideout? A ston room? A workshop? Harrys mind worked feverishly and his dreams, when he finally fell asleep, were broken and disturbed by images of Malfoy, who turned into Slughorn, who turned into Snape…
Harry was in a state of great anticipation over breakfast the following morning; he had a free period before Defense Against the Dark Arts and was determined to spend it trying to get into the Room of Requirement. Hermione was rather ostentatiously showing no interest in his whispered plans for forcing entry into the room, which irritated Harry, because he thought she might be a lot of help if she wanted to.
“Look,” he said quietly, leaning forward and putting a hand on the Daily Prophet, which she had just removed from a post owl, to stop her from opening it and vanishing behind it. “I haven’t forgotten about Slughorn, but I haven’t got a clue how to get that memory off him, and until I get a brain wave why shouldn’t I find out what Malfoy’s doing?”
“I’ve already told you, you need to persuade Slughorn,” said Hermione. “It’s not a question of tricking him or bewitching him, or Dumbledore could have done it in a second. Instead of messing around outside the Room of Requirement”—she jerked the Prophet out from under Harrys hand and unfolded it to look at the front page—“you should go and find Slughorn and start appealing to his better nature.”
“Anyone we know—?” asked Ron, as Hermione scanned the headlines.
“Yes!” said Hermione, causing both Harry and Ron to gag on their breakfast. “But it’s all right, he’s not dead—its Mundungus, he’s been arrested and sent to Azkaban! Something to do with impersonating an Inferius during an attempted burglary, and someone called Octavius Pepper has vanished. Oh, and how horrible, a nine-year-old boy has been arrested for trying to kill his grandparents, they think he was under the Imperius Curse.”
They finished their breakfast in silence. Hermione set off immediately for Ancient Runes; Ron for the common room, where he still had to finish his conclusion on Snape’s dementor essay, and Harry for the corridor on the seventh floor and the stretch of wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls to do ballet.
Harry slipped on his Invisibility Cloak once he had found an empty passage, but he need not have bothered. When he reached his destination he found it deserted. Harry was not sure whether his chances of getting inside the room were better with Malfoy inside it or out, but at least his first attempt was not going to be complicated by the presence of Crabbe or Goyle pretending to be an eleven-year-old girl.
He closed his eyes as he approached the place where the Room of Requirement’s door was concealed. He knew what he had to do; he had become most accomplished at it last year. Concentrating with all his might he thought, I need to see what Malfoy’s doing in here… I need to see what Malfoy’s doing in here… I need to see what Malfoy’s doing in here…
Three times he walked past the door; then, his heart pounding with excitement, he opened his eyes and faced it—but he was still looking at a stretch of mundanely blank wall.
He moved forward and gave it an experimental push. The stone remained solid and unyielding.
“Okay,” said Harry aloud. “Okay… I thought the wrong thing…”
He pondered for a moment then set off again, eyes closed, concentrating as hard as he could.
“I need to see the place where Malfoy keeps coming secretly… I need to see the place where Malfoy keeps coming secretly…”
After three walks past, he opened his eyes expectantly.
There was no door.
“Oh, come off it,” he told the wall irritably. “That was a clear instruction. Fine.”
He thought hard for several minutes before striding off once more.
“I need you to become the place you become for Draco Malfoy…”
He did not immediately open his eyes when he had finished his patrolling; he was listening hard, as though he might hear the door pop into existence. He heard nothing, however, except the distant twittering of birds outside. He opened his eyes.
There was still no door.