Draco spent the next few days searching for Harry's Cloak. It seemed to be quite a good distraction. While he was focusing on not to be caught, he couldn't think about the boy's words. Or about that night in general. He was still scared of that strange feeling he'd felt when Harry touched him. And - whatever hard he tried to deny it - he really wanted to go back and feel his light, soothing touch on his shoulder again.

But he couldn't afford it. First he had to find the Cloak. He hadn't been down to Harry since that ominous last visit, though more than two days had passed.

He'd already searched through all the empty 'classrooms', though he was totally aware that there was a ridiculously low chance to find the Cloak there. But he wanted to make sure... Yeah, but to be more honest, he was terrified to break in a Death Eater's private room.

But he had to. He knew perfectly well, that to find Harry's Cloak, he had to do it. And if he wanted to be honest to himself, he knew exactly where he had to search.

He snuck up to the fifth floor. There was again a meeting down in the 'Great Hall', and since the Death Eaters still wasn't entirely convinced about his trustworthiness, he wasn't allowed to take part in it. But Draco wasn't subdued at all. On the contrary, he used his free time to go and get the Cloak.

The fifth floor was deserted. Draco could hear the eerie sound of silence. He shuddered. His father's room was in the end of the corridor. He stalked near to it and examined the door. It seemed normal. No sign of any extraordinary. But Draco knew his father. He wouldn't let anyone to just simply break in his room.

Draco tapped his wand on the door. He felt magic radiating from it.

"So he indeed locked it." he muttered.
"Alohomora!"

Though he knew nothing would happen, he wanted to try it.

The door remained still and closed. Draco sighed. He didn't know much opening spells. Though he knew one. His father taught it to him when he was younger. A really strong spell that Lucius's father had invented. It had a pair, a closing spell. If Draco was right, his father used this particular spell on his door to keep unwanted visitors away. Draco smiled to himself and flicked his wand in a quite complicated way. "Patentibus!"

The door cracked and swung open, revealing a spacious room.

"Accio Cloak!" he tried but nothing happened.

Draco hurried to the vast mahagony wardrobe standing opposite the door, and carefully started to rummage in it. He found elegante dress robes, a couple of plain black Death Eater's robes, but no sign of the Invisibility Cloak. Draco replaced everything back where they were, as if he'd never been there, and attacked the desk in the middle of the room. All its drawers were closed. Draco cast the opening charm.

In the first drawer he couldn't find anything interesting. A few rolls of parchment, ink bottles... He didn't even understand why his father locked this drawer.

In the second one however, he discovered old looking maps, potions recipes, books and some very rare potions ingredients. But no cloak.

He reached for the third drawer to open, when he heard noises. Heavy footsteps were nearing to the room. Draco panicked. He looked down at the drawer and up at the door. The footsteps grew louder and louder. There was no chance to get out of the room unnoticed. He had to hide somewhere. Quickly!

He spotted a dark curtain hung in front of the windows. Not the best idea, he knew, but quickly he hid behind it. Just in time. The next second he heard the footsteps stopping right in front of the door, then a short pause, and the door swung open.

Lucius Malfoy stepped in, a suspicious glare on his face. He was immediately followed by a Death Eater.

"Lucius, maybe, we should-"

"No! Yaxley said he found it. Tomorrow we will travel. The recipe should be in that book. We can not wait more. Or don't you want to have the Dark Lord back?"

"Yes, I do want him back! Just-"

"Do as I told you! Get those ingredients. Maybe by tomorrow night we will be brewing the potion. And do not forget to ask Potter for his blood."

"Yes, Lucius."

With that the Death Eater left the room, leaving a thoughtful Lucius and a trembling Draco - still hiding behind the heavy black velvet curtains - behind him.

Draco watched, or rather listened to his father sitting down to his desk and opening one of the drawers. He could only hope that he placed everything right back to its place in the rush, so his father wouldn't notice anything.

Lucius sat at the desk for almost half an hour. From the noise he heard, Draco reckoned, he was writing something - maybe a letter - on a piece of parchment. He hardly dared to breathe and was so relieved when he finally stood up and left the room.

Draco waited a few moments to make sure, his father wouldn't come back. He tried to normalize his breathing, but when he realized he wouldn't be able to do that, he rushed to the desk instead again. Only one drawer left. His only hope. He cast the spell. But the drawer didn't open.

Draco desperately tried the charm again and again, but nothing happened. He collapsed in front of the desk, cupped his face between his two hands and sighed nervously. He almost gave up, when something caught his eyes. There was a light brownish red line on the drawer. Blood. Draco shuddered.

No, that can't be. Not even his father is that cruel and sadistic. And he definetly wouldn't give his blood...

But that seemed to be the only possible solution. Draco stared down at his own palm and winced.

He had to do it. For himself. For Harry. For the both of them. He sighed and looked around, but he couldn't see anything with which he could cut himself. There was no knife or dagger, not even a pair of scissors.

He glanced down again at his palm, then looked at the other. On his right hand, his knuckles were white from gripping his wand so tightly. He had to do it with magic, he realized.

The only problem was that he didn't know any proper incantation. The cutting spells that are used for cutting potions ingredients and food weren't working on human body, he just knew from experience. Other spells-

Well, he didn't know any other similar spell, that would work on his palm. Except-

Except one curse. But he didn't know the counter curse. If he cast it, he wouldn't be able to stop the bleeding and heal the wounds. But he had to try. After all, now it would be cast only on his palm, not his whole body. Maybe that way he would survive...

"Sectumsempra!" he wishpered, pointing his slightly trembling wand at his left palm.

A deep wound appeared immediately, spilling thick red blood on his pale skin. The wound deepened, his whole hand burned with pain. He pressed his palm to the drawer. The wood drank in the blood and the drawer opened. Draco spotted the Cloak, a silvery gleam, and beside it lay a wand. Harry's wand.

Draco grasped both of it, kicked the drawer close, and stood up. He had to clutch in the edge of the desk. Blood was still pouring from the gradually deepening and growing wound. He saw that a shining red line on the wood indicated that someone had just opened the drawer. He could only hope that by the time his father would arrive back, the line would have been faded.

But now he really didn't have time to think about it. He had to get out of the room, and find someone... anyone, who could help him. He threw the Cloak on himself, and carefully opened the door. The corridor seemed to be deserted. He snuck out and ran straight down to the dungeons.

He had no idea how would he manage to survive to press his Mark to the painting, because he'd still ached all over his body. But somehow he eventually opened the intrance, fell into the dark room and... blacked out.

"Draco? Is that you? Where have you b-" Harry asked, then paused. "Draco where are you?"

Harry groped desperately in the darkness, until his fingers found something. Something covered with a strange substance that didn't seem to be liquid nor gas, but definitely not solid. The Cloak!

"Draco!" Harry cried half relieved. However it still bothered him that the boy didn't answer.

He drew the Cloak off Draco and shook him slightly.

"Draco! What's happened to you? Draco, please, wake up!"

"Mhmmmp"

"Yes. It's me! Can you hear me? Draco?"

"Ha... rry. I... Cloak... and your... wand. Here-"

"What? What happened? I can't understand. What wand?"

Draco forced his eyes open and tried to speak more clearly despite the pain in his body and the flooding blood from his left palm.

"Your wand. Here. Take it."

"My wand? You stole my wand back? And give it to me? Really?"

Draco nodded. "In my pocket."

Harry carefully reached towards Draco. He was glad that the room was completly dark, so no one could see the wild blush on his face as he groped Draco's body.

"Oi! Upper!" Draco moaned, and Harry knew he touched a very... well... embarrassing spot on Draco's trousers.

Finally he found the wand in the blond boy's pocket, so he could lit the candle Draco had brought him before.

"Merlin, Draco!" Harry gasped in horror. "You're bleeding!"

"Sectum... sempra.

"What? Who cast Sectumsempra on you?"

"Mmm-"

Draco drifted to unconsciousness again. Harry took his bleeding hand in his own palm and pointed his trembling wand at it. He murmured some long and incomprehensible words. He didn't know any healing spells apart from this one. After he accidentally used Sectumsempra on Draco in their sixth year, he decided to learn the counter curse. He searched for it for hours until he finally found the words scratched by ink on the top of a page of the Prince's book.