Day number: 0-1?
Reply: Luna, Hermione
Draco narrowed his eyes as he scurried around another corner. That annoying little mudblood and her friends kept following him around. The little nit seemed to think he was up to something and what business of hers was it if he was? She'd been on him like a hawk since the debut of his rousing cheer for Weasley at the last quidditch match. There was a quidditch game tomorrow and it was almost to be expected that foul play was afoot. It wasn't like it was a big surprise or anything. It was only against the rules if you got caught.
And with Umbridge working furiously in his favor, he'd no doubt things would go smoothly. Still, there was precious little he could do to get the mudblood off his tail at the moment. Crabbe and Goyle had gone on before him, the thick-headed idiots. Probably heard they were serving frosted cupcakes in the common room or some nonsense.
He noticed a nearby door that was open ever so slightly. A perfect place to hide out. Or, if worst came to worst, at least it'd be private if there was a confrontation. Horrible mudblood didn't know real wizards fought with their wands, not their fists. Good luck to her in finding someone who'd put up with that kind of brutish behaviour. She'd likely end up an old spinster with her hideous orange cat. The thought brought a smirk to his lips.
He ducked into the room and turned up his nose. The place was dusty as all get out, like it hadn't been cleaned in decades. His father was always saying that the staff at Hogwarts was deplorable and here was further proof. He placed his long sleeve over his nose and mouth, so as not to breathe in any of the filth. In fact, the only clean thing in the room was a stark piece of parchment, with only the words, “You are immediately nee--” written in deep black ink. The quill beside it had dripped carelessly on the paper, leaving behind a couple messy splotches. Curiousity got the better of him and he touched the ink, finding it cool, but no longer wet to the touch.
He shook his head at the foolishness of it all and peered back through the crack in the door.
The definition of unconcern, Hermione waited until Malfoy rounded a corner. When she was sure that he was gone, she checked both directions, then grabbed Luna's sleeve and gently pulled her into the room Malfoy had dodged into. It had probably just been a place to hide, but she didn't want to take that chance. She began poking through the corners, but it really did seem that the writing desk was the only thing in the room. Malfoy couldn't have been the one to write the beginning of that letter either. For one thing it was too dry and for another the penmanship was MUCH too precise. "Odd," she said.