In the Slytherin Common Room, only a tiny cluster of embers remained in the fireplace.
Draco had stayed awake all night.
Moody's words played over and over in his head.
Value.
He had to prove his value.
He stared at the Malfoy family crest on his hand; that cunning snake was whispering to him.
A forgotten piece of family magic surfaced from the depths of his memory.
"Echo Moth."
It was not a spell.
It was a living alchemical creation.
Made from shadows and solidified sound waves, it could attach itself to any object, turn the surrounding sounds into mental fluctuations, and transmit them to its creator.
The perfect listening device.
Conventional magic could not detect it at all.
A fire ignited in Malfoy's eyes.
This was it.
Drawing on his knowledge of Snape's daily routine.
Choosing a time when the man was away from his office.
Sneaking over.
He whispered to the lock on Snape's office door.
The lock clicked open.
At that moment, he felt everything was going incredibly smoothly.
He slipped inside.
Malfoy's heart pounded wildly. Not with fear, but excitement-a sick sort of excitement.
He took a small obsidian vial from his robes.
He pulled out the stopper, and a shadow as dark as thick ink drifted out, coalescing into a moth with transparent wings.
The Echo Moth.
He directed the moth, very carefully hiding it behind a shelving post.
Perfect.
A fool like Potter would never come up with such an ingenious method.
All he knew how to use was his fists, or his damned fame.
But I, Draco Malfoy, used my brains.
The next day, he ran to find Moody.
He could not wait, like a child eager to show off a treasure.
"Professor! I did it!" He kept his voice low, but could