Harry Potter 06 - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

sometimes remaining stationary in deserted corridors, but at these times Malfoy was not only nowhere near them, but impossible to locate on the map at all. This was most mysterious. Harry toyed with the possibility that Malfoy was actually leaving the school grounds, but could not see how he could be doing it, given the very high level of security now operating within the castle. He could only suppose that he was missing Malfoy amongst the hundreds of tiny black dots upon the map. As for the fact that Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle appeared to be going their different ways when they were usually inseparable, these things happened as people got older – Ron and Hermione, Harry reflected sadly, were living proof.
    February moved towards March with no change in the weather except that it became windy as well as wet. To general indignation, a sign went up on all common-room noticeboards that the next trip into Hogsmeade had been cancelled. Ron was furious.
    ‘It was on my birthday!’ he said. ‘I was looking forward to that!’
    ‘Not a big surprise, though, is it?’ said Harry. ‘Not after what happened to Katie.’
    She had still not returned from St Mungo’s. What was more, further disappearances had been reported in the Daily Prophet , including several relatives of students at Hogwarts.
    ‘But now all I’ve got to look forward to is stupid Apparition!’ said Ron grumpily. ‘Big birthday treat …’
    Three lessons on, Apparition was proving as difficult as ever, though a few more people had managed to Splinch themselves. Frustration was running high and there was a certain amount of ill-feeling towards Wilkie Twycross and his three Ds, which had inspired a number of nicknames for him, the politest of which were Dog-breath and Dung-head.
    ‘Happy birthday, Ron,’ said Harry, when they were woken on the first of March by Seamus and Dean leaving noisily for breakfast. ‘Have a present.’
    He threw the package across on to Ron’s bed, where it joined a small pile of them that must, Harry assumed, have been delivered by house-elves in the night.
    ‘Cheers,’ said Ron drowsily, and as he ripped off the paper Harry got out of bed, opened his own trunk and began rummaging in it for the Marauder’s Map, which he hid after every use. He turfed out half the contents of his trunk before he found it hiding beneath the rolled-up socks in which he was still keeping his bottle of lucky potion, Felix Felicis.
    ‘Right,’ he murmured, taking it back to bed with him, tapping it quietly and murmuring, ‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,’ so that Neville, who was passing the foot of his bed at the time, would not hear.
    ‘Nice one, Harry!’ said Ron enthusiastically, waving the new pair of Quidditch Keeper’s gloves Harry had given him.
    ‘No problem,’ said Harry absent-mindedly, as he searched the Slytherin dormitory closely for Malfoy. ‘Hey … I don’t think he’s in his bed …’
    Ron did not answer; he was too busy unwrapping presents, every now and then letting out an exclamation of pleasure.
    ‘Seriously good haul this year!’ he announced, holding up a heavy gold watch with odd symbols around the edge and tiny moving stars instead of hands. ‘See what Mum and Dad got me? Blimey, I think I’ll come of age next year too …’
    ‘Cool,’ muttered Harry, sparing the watch a glance before peering more closely at the map. Where was Malfoy? He did not seem to be at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, eating breakfast … he was nowhere near Snape, who was sitting in his study … he wasn’t in any of the bathrooms or in the hospital wing …
    ‘Want one?’ said Ron thickly, holding out a box of Chocolate Cauldrons.
    ‘No thanks,’ said Harry, looking up. ‘Malfoy’s gone again!’
    ‘Can’t have done,’ said Ron, stuffing a second Cauldron into his mouth as he slid out of bed to get dressed. ‘Come on, if you don’t hurry up you’ll have to Apparate on an empty stomach … might make it easier, I suppose …’
    Ron looked thoughtfully at the box of Chocolate Cauldrons, then shrugged and helped himself to a third.
    Harry tapped the map with his wand, muttered, ‘Mischief managed,’ though it hadn’t been, and got dressed, thinking hard. There had to be an explanation for Malfoy’s periodic disappearances, but he simply could not think what it could be. The best way of finding out would be to tail him, but even with the Invisibility Cloak this was an impractical idea; he