It was the dead of winter, but the air outside was only the second strongest wrath the castle was subject to tonight.

Draco Malfoy stormed through the corridors of Hogwarts. He'd finally been let free of his detention with their Charms teacher, Professor Flitwick. He was, yet again, being wrongly punished for something he was not guilty of. And who was the guilty one? Why, who else?

Potter.

Draco sneered at the name.

He and the Weasel King were being annoying in lesson, Draco politely asked them to be quiet and as always, inevitably an argument had broken out. An argument which, of course, resulted in him being given detention and Potter being let off scot-free. The teachers had a favoritism problem when it came to Potter anyway, but ever since Umbridge came to school and actually started fighting on the side of the Slytherins, Draco swore just about every teacher had a personal vendetta against them now.

"What're you going to do Potter, murder me in a graveyard?"

He patted himself on the back for that one. It had even earned him a cheer off his side of the class. Definitely worth it in the long run, even if it had resulted in him sitting through an hours worth of cleaning bookshelves after.

It was the harshest winter in a while, and even this deep into the castle he could still hear the sharp howling of the wind outside. The sun was likely disappearing over the horizon right now, despite it not even being afterhours yet. Shadows had overtaken most areas of the castle that weren't light up by wall torches, causing Draco to use the illumination charm to make his way around. He could barely see a few feet above his face, but he'd done the journey back to his common room enough to know confidently where he was going.

It was times like this Draco wished they hadn't gotten rid of Lockhearts duelling club. The man might have been a complete oaf, but just about everybody in his house agreed they'd love the chance to go up against other students in a one-on-one. All it would take was one session between he and Potter and the boy would learn not to talk back to him again. It's only right he should learn some respect for his superiors. After what he pulled today, if it wasn't for the constant over-hanging eyes of Dumbledore, there be nothing stopping him from hexing the Golden-Boy in the back of the head at point blank-range next time he saw him.

Making his way forward through the dark, Draco couldn't help the sudden feeling like he was being watched. A stupid suspicion really, as he was fully aware of the multiple ghosts living inside the castle, and the countless number of selfware portraits. The idea that he wasn't being watched right now by something or other was the more ridiculous idea.

But nevertheless a creeping chill made its way up the back of his neck; one nothing to do with the weather. His pace subtly quickened.

Then, he heard it.

Or, he thought he heard it.

Footsteps. A few feet behind his. An echo, maybe?

No. He distinctly heard a second pair of feet.

He fought against the urge to turn around. It wasn't after hours, and it was a free corridor. If somebody really was behind him, then they had full right to be. True, maybe their parents should have a talk with them about why skulking around in the dark, feet behind other students without saying word maybe wasn't the most polite thing to do, but he digressed. If he was perfectly honest, he'd achieved a rare mix somewhere between tired and creeped out where for once, even Draco Malfoy didn't feel confrontational.

He picked up his speed again, trying to think nothing of it.

It was when the footsteps got quicker that he began to panic.

He span around suddenly, stabbing his wand straight out into the darkness. A moment passed, as Draco expected the owner of the footsteps to make themselves known, or at the very least slow down. But instead they had stopped entirely, making him second guess if he had actually heard anything at all.

"Think you're being funny, do you?" he asked the void.

Admittedly, due to him not being in the mood and getting caught-off guard rather unexpectedly, his voice came out as more of a shrill cry than anything macho or intimidating.

Nonetheless, it had apparently worked. The footsteps didn't return, which meant one of two things. Either his high-pitched scream had scared the owner of them so much that they had chosen to disintegrate themselves into nothingness rather than face him, or he was simply scaring himself over smoke and mirrors. Deciding the second option was probably the most logical, he turned back to his destination and carried on his way.

Seconds after he began walking, the footsteps started again.

They were definitely echoes of his own feet and had always been there, he had decided, and that for whatever reason he simply hadn't noticed them earlier. Probably because the castle had been growing steadily darker as he made his way to home, and he now had less surrounds to focus on, that's why he could hear them now. That was his idea, and it's what he was going to keep telling himself. He was almost at the dungeons now. Honestly, the idea that he could ever be scared wondering around the castle at night… Too much time around Potter must have rubbed off on him.

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of hands suddenly protruded from the darkness behind him. One sealed itself over his mouth, stopping him from screaming out, and the other jammed a silver blade against his adams apple. Draco barely had time to fight, and in his surprise he released the grip on his wand. His only defense and light-source clattered loudly to the ground. He was pulled backwards into the void, disappearing like a diver into an ocean.

As quickly as it had began, the corridor was still yet again.

"Mister Malfoys disappearance is sudden, and definitely alarming," Dumbledore spoke. "We deeply urge anyone who has information they think might help us in the investigation to step forward."

Rumors had been flying about Malfoy's disappearance the following morning, but they had only just gotten any confirmation about them now. The facts were scarce, but chinese-whispers a plenty. The only solid thing anybody knew was it happened during the previous night's storm. He had failed to make it to the common room that night, and upon further inspection all the Prefects could find of him was his wand, abandoned on a first floor corridor. Lessons had finished but curfew had not yet been called, which combined with the fact the castle was actually suffering from a weather-induced blackout during those hours, meant leads were nowhere to be found.

Despite rampant whispering filling the Great Hall, there was one corner of the Gryffindor table that remained deathly silent.

Harry hated Malfoy, there was no doubt about that. But he would never wish harm on the boy, or at least not to the extent that the rumors were indicated.

"He's probably just been called away on some Death Eater holiday or something," Ron mumbled between them.

"And left his wand behind, Ronald?" Hermione asked.

Harry remained silent. It was rare Dumbledore attended the feasts these days, which meant things were likely as bad as they seemed.

"After talking to his father rather thoroughly, we have decided not to raise the missing persons alarm with the Ministry of Magic. Students have gone missing before in Hogwarts and turned up a week later entirely unharmed, all because they took a wrong turning in the library," Dumbledore smiled, but Harry saw straight through it. He could tell by the teachers shared expressions that things were serious. Nobody ever saw Snape alarmed, yet he looked positively shaken.

"Because this may be the case, we don't want to instil any panic to the students of Hogwarts. Yes, I do admit the circumstances of which Mister Malfoy disappeared do seem suspicious, which is why we are making you aware of them. But I also feel it's worth stating that not for a second do I believe a teacher or student could be responsible for his vanishing."

"Sirius Black!"

The voice, one Harry didn't recognise, had come from the Ravenclaw side. It was met with a thunder of harsh whispers.

Dumbledore raised his hand, silencing them.

"I do not need to explain the likeliness, or rather, lack of, that Sirius Black would be behind Malfoys disappearance. Once again I must ask anybody with information they think could help to step forward, and that shall be all."

The Headmaster usually ended his speeches with an inspirational quote, or an invitation to enjoy the feast, but this time he merely stepped away from the platform and rejoined the teachers. That added to the ever mounting evidence that something in Hogwarts was very wrong.

"You know who's going to get the blame for this, don't you?"

It took Harry a moment to realize Hermione's question was directed towards him.

"What, me?"

Hermione nodded, a trouble expression on her face.

"Umbridge and the Ministry already have it out for you. Half the magical world still thinks you killed Cedric, and now somebody you're known to not get along with goes missing."

Despite the serious subject at hand, Ron hadn't paused his eating, "She's got a point, mate."

His concern for Draco had clouded his initial judgement; Ron and Hermione were completely right.

No doubt when Dumbledore mentioned Lucius earlier, that indicted he was raising hell with him and most likely threatening to involve the Daily Prophet as well. Harry had only narrowly escaped being expelled for underaged magic at the start of this year, and he had heard of more than a few people wanting him to be tried for Cedric's murder as well. If the blame for Malfoys disappearance really landed on him, he doubted even Dumbledore could do anything to help him.

"That's ridiculous, though. I was with you guys?" he suggested. "In the common room, we were playing chess."

Ron shook his head and offered a small laugh.

"I don't think anyone in Hogwarts has trouble believing we'd help you hide a body.."

"Don't say that word!" Hermione hissed. "Malfoy is probably fine! There's no reason to assume the worst like that!"

It wasn't that Harry didn't trust Dumbledore to handle things himself, but… Well, he didn't have the best track record speaking for himself. That, and the growing distance between he and the Headmaster this year gave Harry the feeling he was on his own with this one. Luckily, he and his friends hands-on approach usually served them well in the end.

"We need to find out what happened."

"Jumping ahead a little aren't we?" Ron laughed. "It's not really anything to do with us. Plus nobody has even accused you of anything yet."

"You really think we should wait around for them to?" Harry asked.

Ron fell silent, leaving Hermione to find his answer for him.

"I could ask around our house?" she offered. "See if there's anyone who would go on record that they saw you in there with us?"

Ron nodded, gesturing toward Hermione with his fork. "I'll do that too. Could probably get Neville to say he sat and had a conversation with us or something."

The more he thought about it, the worse this situation seemed to grow.

Obviously any student going missing in Hogwarts was a serious issue, whether he personally liked them or not was irrelevant. But considering it was Malfoy of all people, and how that filtered into the bigger picture… Aka, the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters and how they may respond… It was a daunting prospect, and not one he was looking forward to seeing the end result of.

"Harry? You don't look so good?"

"We need to find him. If he's still in Hogwarts there's not a chance absolutely nobody has seen him. Maybe a ghost or a housemate or something."

Ron forced a chuckle through a full mouth, "that hardly narrows it down, mate."

"But it's a start," Hermione finished for him. "Do you think it's worth asking around in his house and seeing if anyone knows anything they aren't telling the teachers?"

"Could ask Crabbe and Goyle?"

"What makes you think we could get anything out of them?"

Ron shook his head and shrugged sarcastically,

"I don't know, genuine concern for their friends safety, maybe?"

"I doubt even then that they'd help us," Hermione sneered. "No, we're best-off asking one of the other Slytherins. I'd suggest the Bloody Baron, but given none of us are highly-regarded purebloods I doubt we'd even be able to find him. We should goo for someone who is in Malfoys class but we never see him around, they might have caught wind or overheard something. Theodore Nott, or Tracey Davis maybe."

"And how exactly are we supposed to walk up to them and start asking about their missing classmate without sounding suspicious? We're trying to make Harry look innocent, remember?"

"Because he is innocent!" she snapped.

Hermione's increased tone caught the attention of a few other Gryffindors at their table, who glanced over at her. She shrank away from their gazes, blushing.

She did have a point, Harry thought.

Pansy Parkinson was the first person who came to mind. It was a hotly debated subject in the Gryffindor common room if she and Draco were seeing each other or not, and although the answer was still up for interpretation, it was definitely a fact that the two were very close. He imagined Malfoy would tell her things he considered too personal for Crabbe and Goyle. She would be a good place to start, the only problem there was some underlying tension between she and him. It was always worth a shot though, and especially if it was for Malfoys safety?

"There is Daphne Greengrass, I suppose," Hermione said suddenly, and mostly to herself. "She and I have studied together a few times and she seems nice enough. Also a very skilled witch. I wouldn't exactly say she's a friend, but she's minded my stuff in the library before. I guess that makes us a vague acquaintances..?"

Harry couldn't find a face to match that name, but he definitely remembered hearing her name being called out on registers before.

"Sick, you can go ask Daphne," Ron nodded. "I'll ask Neville, and Harry can go ask his best mate, Seamus."

Harry opened his mouth to retort his Ron's joke, but Hermione interrupted them.

"I don't have time," she said suddenly, "I'm already busy organizing Harry's stuff for the next DA meeting. And now I've also got to ask people in our house if they're willing to collaborate our story as well. It'll have to be one of you, and besides, I'm barely on that good terms with her myself."

"Well I'm not doing it," Ron frowned. "I can barely talk to girls I don't know anyway, never mind one in Slytherin."

Harry didn't even need to catch them both turning to look at him before he knew the way their conversation was going to go.