Filich's expression of outraged disappointment

Filich's expression of outraged disappointment was perfectly predictable; but why, Harry wondered, watching him, did Malfoy look almost equally unhappy? And why was

Snape looking at Malfoy as though both angry and... was it possible? ... a little afraid?

But almost before Harry had registered what he had seen, Filch had turned and shuffled away, muttering under his breath; Malfoy had composed his face into a smile and

was thanking Slughorn for his generosity, and Snape's face was smoothly inscrutable again.

“It's nothing, nothing,” said Slughorn, waving away Malfoy's thanks. “I did know your grandfather, after all....”

“He always spoke very highly of you, sir,” said Malfoy quickly. “Said you were the best potion-maker he'd ever known...”

Harry stared at Malfoy. It was not the sucking-up that intrigued him; he had watched Malfoy do that to Snape for a long time. It was the fact that Malfoy did, after

all, look a little ill. This was the first time he had seen Malfoy close up for ages; he now saw that Malfoy had dark shadows under his eyes and a distinctly grayish

tinge to his skin.

“I'd like a word with you, Draco,” said Snape suddenly.

“Now, Severus,” said Slughorn, hiccuping again, “it's Christmas, don't be too hard—”

“I'm his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard, or otherwise, to be,” said Snape curtly. “Follow me, Draco.”

They left, Snape leading the way, Malfoy looking resentful. Harry stood there for a moment, irresolute, then said, “I'll be back in a bit, Luna—er—bathroom.”

“All right,” she said cheerfully, and he thought he heard her, as he hurried off into the crowd, resume the subject of the Rotfang Conspiracy with Professor

Trelawney, who seemed sincerely interested.

It was easy, once out of the party, to pull his Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket and throw it over himself, for the corridor was quite deserted. What was more

difficult was finding Snape and Malfoy. Harry ran down the corridor, the noise of his feet masked by the music and loud talk still issuing from Slughorn's office behind

him. Perhaps Snape had taken Malfoy to his office in the dungeons ... or perhaps he was escorting him back to the Slytherin common room... Harry pressed his ear against

door after door as he dashed down the corridor until, with a great jolt of excitement, he crouched down to the keyhole of the last classroom in the corridor and heard

voices.

“... cannot afford mistakes, Draco, because if you are expelled —”

“I didn't have anything to do with it, all right?”

“I hope you are telling the truth, because it was both clumsy and foolish. Already you are suspected of having a hand in it.”

“Who suspects me?” said Malfoy angrily. “For the last time, I didn't do it, okay? That Bell girl must've had an enemy no one knows about—don't look at me like that!

I know what you're doing, I'm not stupid, but it won't work—I can stop you!”

There was a pause and then Snape said quietly, “Ah... Aunt Bellatrix has been teaching you Occlumency, I see. What thoughts are you trying to conceal from your master,

Draco?”

“I'm not trying to conceal anything from him, I just don't want you butting in!”

Harry pressed his ear still more closely against the keyhole... what had happened to make Malfoy speak to Snape like this—Snape, toward whom he had always shown

respect, even liking?