The Marauder's Map trembled slightly in Harry's hands, the ink still shifting to form the castle's corridors. His breath caught as he traced a tiny labeled dot: Sirius Black. Moving.
Not outside. Inside Hogwarts.
"Harry!" Hermione whispered sharply. She and Ron were huddled near the entrance to the boys' dorm, both in pajamas. "You're not seriously going to follow him, are you?"
"He's here," Harry said, his voice low but unwavering. "In the castle."
Ron paled. "Bloody—are you sure it's not a trick?"
"I saw his name. He's on the map, moving through the third floor."
Draco had appeared silently at the staircase, arms crossed. "Let me guess. Potter's off to do something reckless again."
Harry gave him a sharp look. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
"Snape told me to keep an eye on you." His voice was dry, but his expression held something close to concern. "And I quote: 'If Potter decides to go gallivanting through the corridors chasing ghosts, kindly inform me before he gets himself killed.'"
Hermione blinked. "He told you that?"
"I might've paraphrased," Draco muttered.
Ron stepped forward. "Harry, even if it's really him, what are you going to do? Hex him? He's a convicted murderer!"
"I need to know why," Harry said. "Why he betrayed them."
Draco stared at him for a long moment. Then, without another word, he stepped closer and snatched the map from Harry's hand.
"Oi!" Harry tried to grab it back, but Draco moved quickly, scanning the names.
"He's headed toward the portrait of the one-eyed witch," Draco murmured. "There's a passage behind that, isn't there?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "How do you know that?"
"I've read things," Draco replied. "Slytherins like to stay informed."
Harry sighed. "I'm going. You three don't have to come."
Draco tossed the map back to him. "As if I'd let you get all the glory—or get yourself killed and drag us into the headlines with you."
Hermione pulled her cloak around her. "Then we better be careful. If a teacher finds us—"
"They won't," Draco said confidently. "Because I know how to avoid them."
---
Ten minutes later, they were sneaking down a quiet hallway, footsteps muffled by silencing charms and adrenaline. The castle felt colder tonight. Every shadow stretched longer. Every creak of wood echoed like a threat.
As they turned a corner near the third floor corridor, a tall figure emerged suddenly—robes billowing, wand drawn.
"Potter," Snape's voice cracked the silence. "Mr. Weasley. Miss Granger…" His eyes landed on Draco. "And Mr. Malfoy. Out for a midnight stroll?"
No one spoke. Harry's heart pounded. The Marauder's Map was tucked tightly under his robe.
Snape stepped closer, his voice low and lethal. "Don't test me. I know he's been spotted."
Draco stepped forward. "We weren't going to do anything. Just… checking."
Snape's eyes flicked briefly to Draco. Something unreadable passed between them. Then he turned back to Harry.
"I know what you're thinking," Snape said, his voice almost… tired. "But Black is not yours to handle. Not yet."
Harry's jaw clenched. "You don't understand—"
"Oh, I understand far more than you realize," Snape snapped. Then, quieter, "You're not ready."
The silence was heavy. For a moment, Harry looked like he might argue—but Snape's tone, the rare strain in it, made him stop.
"Go back to your dormitories," Snape said, more gently this time. "And Potter… if you value your life—stay away from the one-eyed witch."
With that, he swept past them, his cloak whispering against the cold stones.
As the four students turned back, Draco walked a step closer to Harry.
"I meant what I said before," Draco muttered. "Don't be an idiot, Potter."
Harry didn't answer. But he didn't let go of the map either.
And far below them, in the shadows of the castle, a name blinked out—Sirius Black, vanished from the page.