Chapter 52

                                    

                                          
"I had started to suspect as much," Harry said. "That somewhat puts a dampener on our plans, doesn't it?" 
                          
"On the contrary," Draco said. "We need to find that cup and send it to the Hog's Head before one thirty." 
                          
"Right," Harry said. He tried to check his watch but then realized that he had taken it off to become Pansy as it was a boy's watch and far too large for her smaller wrist. Draco pulled out his pocket watch. 
                          
"We have an hour," he said. 
                          
"No time to waste." Harry stood up and Draco did the same. "I'll follow you." Draco nodded slowly. He chewed nervously on his lower lip for a moment before he seemed to steel himself. Then he turned and walked to the door. 
                          
"This way," Draco said. They walked out into the corridor. It was deserted, a fact for which Harry was glad. 
                          
"Has Pansy been here before?" he asked. 
                          
"A few times."
                          
"So you can't say you're just giving me a tour then?" Harry asked. Draco looked at him quizzically. "If someone asks why we're wandering around." 
                          
"This is my house," Draco said. "No one is going to ask why I'm doing anything." He sounded so confident that Harry had no choice but to believe him. He hoped that it was true, because he couldn't think of any reasons why they would be in a room other than Draco's. 
                          
They walked down to the end of the corridor they were on and then turned right onto another, similar corridor. This one was lined with pictures of Malfoy ancestors, all of whom glared down at them as they walked by. Or, at least, Harry assumed they did. He did not dare look at any of the paintings face on.
                          
Once they reached the end of that corridor, they went down a flight of stairs and along another corridor until they finally reached a pair of massive twin oak doors. Draco hesitated for a moment, staring up at the wood, before he squared his shoulders and pulled one door open. 
                          
The room behind the doors was as imposing as the entrance would have had Harry believe it would be. The ceiling of the room was vaulted and each arch had elaborate patterns carved into the wood. The walls were lined with bookshelves, most of which were filled with leather bound books and protected by filigree iron grilles. At the back of the room sat a large desk with a large, red wing back chair behind it. Harry could not help but stare in wonder, first at the ceiling and then at the bookshelves. 
                          
"Yes, yes," Draco said, taking Harry's hand and tugging him along. "My father's study is a bit much." Harry realized that his mouth had fallen open and so he snapped it shut, but he continued to look around, even as he followed Draco. He was so lost in staring up at the intricate ceiling that he walked into Draco when Draco stopped in front of one of the bookshelves. He looked down again in time to see Draco smirking at him. 
                          
"Sorry," Harry said.
                          
"Don't be. It's fine." Draco turned to look at the bookcase and Harry turned his attention to it as well. Sure enough, Hufflepuff's Cup was sitting on the shelf, behind the metal grille. Draco pulled out his wand and waved it in front of the grille. It opened out slowly. Harry held his breath. Draco reached out and picked up the Cup. Harry took an involuntary step backwards, convinced an alarm would go off, or the Cup would explode or some such thing. But nothing untoward happened. 
                          
Draco carried the Cup over to the desk and put it down. Then he took a deep breath and pointed his wand at it. 
                          
"Gemino," he said. A perfect copy of the Cup appeared next to it on the desk. Harry reached out and picked up the genuine Cup before they had a chance to confuse the two. It was cold to the touch, and felt the way the locket had - like there was something alive about it. Draco carried the copy back to the bookshelf and placed it on the shelf before closing the grille again.