"Good evening," Draco’s soft greeting echoed across the hall and Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Ahead of them, Voldemort became as still as a statue, before he carefully peered over his shoulder to see who had dared to address him. Harry saw only a hint of his dangerous smile when his eyes found Draco, but it was enough to make his blood run cold, and he suddenly wished that Draco had silenced his breath as well, which seemed to be deafening to him under the cloak.