If I thought Diagon Alley was bleak and lifeless, Knockturn Alley was about forty times worse. It was more crowded, but not with the right sorts of people. Everyone looked sketchy and suspicious. Suddenly, I wished I'd brought  a cloak to hide myself under.

The hairs on the the back of my neck rose, goosebumps riddling every inch of my skin. 

I could almost smell the Death Eaters here.

I pulled open my sweater slightly, checking if Celeste was still okay. The pygmy puff chittered, and I patted her, thanking Fred and George for letting me keep her. I'd already sent the supplies back to Grimmauld Place, but I kept the periwinkle pygmy puff close to me.

As I got further into Knockturn Alley, my stomach churned sickly. This wasn't a place for . . . normal people.

This wasn't safe. This was wrong, and Mundungus would definitely not be here. He wouldn't dare. He was too much of a coward.

I had to get out of here.

Spinning around, I began to retrace my steps, when a particular conversation got my attention.

"She was here somewhere. Said we had to switch posts. I didn't get a good look at her face, but she could've been faking the mark." 

My heart sank as I saw the familiar figure of Quinton Sapp walking down the moss-covered stone steps towards my location. I ducked behind a wall, stepping into an alleyway, and pressed my back flat against the the stone. "The Dark Lord's already bloody pissed at someone, and I couldn't make matters worse. Can you find her?" The person next to him must've nodded, because Sapp continued with a, "thanks," and "I couldn't appreciate it more," and ended with, "there's a reason you're his favorite."

Stomach in knots, I tried to control my hammering heart, listening for signs of a 'coast clear'. I heard the familiar whoosh of an apparation, and let out exhale—I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath. 

Peeling myself from the wall and bent forward onto my knees, thankful I hadn't got caught. 

Without warning, the feeling of an icy hand wrapped around the back of my neck—the other on my mouth to keep me from screaming.

"Gerroff," I fought, my voice muffled, elbowing my captor in the stomach. He let go, and I whipped around, wand pointed, spell on the tip of my tongue. 

"The hell, Steele," Draco groaned, hands pressed against his abdomen. 

"Malfoy?" My eyes widened. "You're still following me?"

"Are you mad?" he said, completely disgusted at the idea. "You got reported on. You should be lucky Sapp came to me instead of Bellatrix. She would've torn you from limb to limb—she's quite advanced at the Cruciatus curse." His nose was wrinkled, wisps of blond hair falling into his grey eyes. He flicked them back into place. "Well? What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for someone," I rolled my eyes, twisting the ring on my thumb automatically. Draco's silvery gaze fell to my fingers.

"You're wearing the ring?"

"Of course I am. It helps me remember who I am." I tapped the crest. "Never forget."

Draco smirked. "Okay. Whatever you say, Steele."

I scowled, wrapping my sweater tight around me, although wary off the pygmy puff hiding in there. "I've got to go, Malfoy." I turned, starting to walk out of the dark alleyway.

"What for?" the blond boy called after me.

"You wouldn't understand. And," I looked over my shoulder, "if I told you, wouldn't You-Know-Who look through your mind and find all this information? I mean, if you don't tell him first. You helping me, other secrets."

"I'm not helping you, Steele, always keep that in mind. And you should also think about the fact that the Dark Lord can call you back any time, which means he'll be able to go through your thoughts and find out exactly what you've been doing." Draco smirked made him triumphant, as if he'd finally beat me.

In two long strides, I stood right in front of him. "How have you survived this long, Draco?" I asked him, my voice dangerously low. "After wiping Abelard's memories . . . how are you still his favorite?"

Draco's face flushed at my sudden closeness, and his eyes flitted above my head. "There are ways."

"What ways?" I pressed. "Come on, Draco. Tell me."

"Why would I help you, Steele? What have you ever done for me?" Draco frowned, smirk gone. 

"I mean, no matter how much you despise the idea, we're on the same side, Malfoy," I pointed out. "Whichever way you think about it. If Vol—the Dark Lord—sifts through my thoughts, you'll be found out anyway. It's better to teach me than to live something worse than death."

Draco seemed to be affected by this. He let out a loud, annoyed sigh. 

"Fine. Only because I don't want to live a life worse than death 'cause of someone like you." 

I shrugged, fine with this.

Without making eye contact, Draco stretched out his hand. 

"What's that for?" I asked, eyeing it warily. 

"Take it," he said gruffly. I reached forward, letting my fingers brush against his palm. And then we were twisting through the sky, Draco in control of the reigns.

  ⚡ ⚡⚡ 

We landed somewhere that looked a lot like the Slytherin Dungeon, but not exactly. For the first time in a while, I felt at home; comfortable. 

"Is this . . . is this a hideout?" I asked, unable to mask the excitement in my voice. I pulled open a part of my sweater, giving Celeste way out. She fluttered onto my shoulder, surprising Draco.

"What's that?" he asked, reaching forward to poke it.

"My pygmy puff. Say hello to Celeste." Celeste jumped onto Draco's finger, and I grinned. "Isn't she a dear?"

"Whatever. It's too childish." He set her back on my shoulder and turned around, but I knew he was putting up a strong front on purpose. 

He totally loved Celeste.

"So," I clasped my hands behind my back, examining the room, "a hideout?"

"Sort of. We're standing in the living room." There were three sofas around a table, a stack of newspapers and a freshly-drank mug next to it. Behind him was a small kitchen, and on the right was a hallway that probably led a few more mini rooms.

"Sit," he gestured to a single leather sofa. I sat. He sat right in front of me on the coffee table at a slightly higher level, leaning in as he spoke, leg crossed over the other. "You asked how I block out the Dark Lord. Well, believe it or not, Potter does too—and we both learned it from the same person—Snape."

"Snape? He taught you how to block out Vol—You-Know-Who?"

"He did. It's called 'Occlumency'— I'm sure you've heard of it somewhere."

"I think that was one of the subjects for our seventh year," I smiled sheepishly, not wanting to admit I hadn't done any of the summer assignments yet.

"You-Know-Who is a Legilimens, which means he can read your mind. So's Snape . . . So am I."

My jaw dropped. "You can see what I'm thinking?"

"Not unless I enter your brain. And trust me, you'll know if I do," Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "To help you block him out, you'll have to practice. Which means — "

"You'll have to look through my thoughts, won't you?" I couldn't hold back a shudder. Malfoy, looking through my personal thoughts. What could get worse than that?

Malfoy took no offense to this, nodding. "We can start whenever, but we'll have to do it here."

"Where is this place?" I asked, looking around. "Is it underground?"

"It is."

"Are you alone here?"

I—" Almost as if on cue, we heard a crash from the kitchen, followed by a painful groan.

"The Dark Lord can die, miserable f—"

Draco cleared his throat. "We have company."

The three figures spun around, coming into view.

To my delight, I realized it was Theodore Nott.

"What company—" Theo's look turned from confused to surprised, and to my relief, the good kind. "Elvira!" I jumped to my feet, reaching out to greet him. "What's she doing here?" he asked from over my shoulder.

"I'm teaching her occlumency just like I did you," Malfoy explained.

"He lives with you?" I asked, but Malfoy shook his head.

"No. This is my secret, but somehow he figured it out and now he won't go anywhere else." He turned his attention to him, and Theo seemed to sulk.

"Malfoy, you've gotta help me," Theo moaned after I let him go.

"What did you do?" Draco asked him almost tiredly as if this was nothing new.

"A prisoner got away. We were supposed to watch him but somehow he managed to get ahold of my wand—"

"Get out of here, Theo. Look for him. I'm saying this to you for your own good," Draco crossed his arms over his chest. "Go, or it's not me you're going to be facing next time!"

Theo nodded, embarrassed, and disappeared in a black whirl.

Draco turned back to me. "Today?"

"Let's do it right now," I said with a nod.

"Now?" Malfoy seemed surprised—impressed. "Fine. I'm going to look for your greatest memory, alright?" He pulled out his wand. "Do your best to put up a wall. I'll move through then fast, but to you you'll be reliving them."

I nodded, fidgety but excited to see what would happen.

"I'm ready."

Draco focused, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose.

"Legilimens."