Harry stood in the Potions Professor's office on the first basement level, furious, trembling, and cold all over.
A few minutes earlier, he had been in the corridor trying to stop Malfoy's scheme. Now he had been roughly shoved in here, and the man who had pushed him in had taken a bottle of potion from the desk and left with Malfoy, locking the door tight behind them.
Harry was not remotely surprised that Malfoy had got off without any consequences. Or rather, after so many years, he was used to it.
No, he had to get out of here.
Malfoy must be plotting something. Harry had seen it with his own eyes and heard it with his own ears, just like Quirrell in his first year. Malfoy-he had to get out of here and warn Dumbledore.
But that man had cast a spell on the door before leaving.
Neither Finite Incantatem nor Alohomora worked.
Harry's abilities might have been somewhat lacking, but his willpower was decent. Even after both Alohomora and Finite Incantatem failed, he kept trying to open the door.
After an unknown length of time, Su Er heard laughter and a jumble of footsteps beyond the door. The feast was over; those were Slytherin and Hufflepuff students.
Harry pressed his ear to the door, trying to make out what the students were saying. Or rather, he wanted to hear whether Malfoy's voice was among them, whether Malfoy was boasting about having him shut in here.
But no. Everything Harry heard was irrelevant.
He thought back to seeing Malfoy enter the Room of Requirement and the excited look on his face when he emerged, as well as the words of encouragement he had heard Malfoy muttering to himself while following him.
Harry had a bad feeling. It made