chapter 2
It felt like pudding. Hot pudding. Draco wiped it off his face and cautiously opened his eyes to see Ginny Weasley staring at him in shock from across the room. His head swam, and his knees went weak, so he shut his eyes again and sat down abruptly on the floor. He could hear Snape angrily ordering people around, and his queries about how he felt. He was bundled into a safety shower and purely unmagical means were used to clean him of the potion, while the cauldron was dealt with to keep it from doing any more damage.
When Draco emerged from under the water, Snape handed him a towel and said, "How do you feel?"
"A little lightheaded, " Draco admitted. "But otherwise... like myself. Why, did I turn colors or something?"
"No...." said his professor, looking him over as he dried off and put his clothes back on, which had been magically dried after he flung them out of the shower. "But with that combination of ingredients, something should have happened."
"Well, it doesn't seem to have, beyond the lightheadedness and an attack of dizziness when I opened my eyes afterward, " Draco said, "but if something does, I'll let you know."
Snape nodded. "I was about to request that. Go on back to your dorm and lay down until the light-headedness passes. I'll give you a note of excuse for the rest of the day."
"Thank you," said Draco, as he put on a clean robe. It wasn't his, and fit wrong across the shoulders, but at least it was something. The potion was all over his, and was currently in a stasis bubble next to the shower where Snape had flung it. He made his way back to his dorm, grateful that everyone was at class and weren't there to see him hanging onto the wall, and pulled his clothes off with a grateful sigh of relief. He felt hot, and pulled on a pair of pajamas before lying down on top of his bed. The light was too bright, so he waved his wand at it, laid it on the night table, shut his eyes, and fell asleep.
When he woke up, the room was too bright. And too big. He was disoriented for a moment, and then he saw Madam Pomfrey's face. Infirmary, he thought.
"Oh, good, you're awake," she said, looking at his eyes and feeling his forehead with quick motions. "How do you feel?"
"Like I've been asleep with a headache that isn't quite gone," Draco said, and she nodded.
"Apparently that stuff you wound up wearing is pretty sedating," she said. "Professor Snape went round to check on you, and you couldn't be roused, so he brought you up here, and then analyzed the stuff on your robe. Do you remember what got added? You developed an excellent sedative."
"No...things are a little fuzzy. It was a normal day, and then..." Thinking hurt. He wanted to go back to sleep.
She nodded. "Want to go back to sleep, do you?" she said. He nodded. "Then you take this," she said, shoving a spoonful of something foul into his mouth. He choked but swallowed, taking the cup of water she offered to rinse it down. Just that action drained him, but he did manage to neatly replace the cup on the bedside table before falling down into darkness again.
He was in Potions again. But the room was empty, save for himself and someone else. He looked into his cauldron, and it was full of something that was a mirror, reflected a hazy image of his own long face and white-blond hair, and, behind it, a smaller figure. He couldn't see much, but there was red hair atop it. He turned and found that she...had to be a woman, from the way she moved...was walking out the door. It was important that he catch up to her, he knew, although he didn't know why. But she was always just ahead of him, a flash of dark robe or of bright copper hair his only guidelines. And suddenly, he turned the corner, and she was gone. He stood on the landing, desolate, and troubled...he'd never seen her face.
Draco woke, suddenly, and looked about him. Just as his mind registered the infirmary walls and his heart stopped racing, his father opened the door and walked in.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
Draco knew better than to ask what he was doing there. "I'm...all right," he said. "Lightheaded, a vaguely hungover feeling. I keep waking up disoriented....weird dreams."
His father nodded. "I am just glad it was no worse."
"You....It was just an accident, you know that, don't you, Father?"
His father nodded. "Accidents happen. Although I understand that Snape has taken fifteen points from Ashby, on the grounds that one NEVER larks about in a lab. But I'm taking you home," he said. "I'm sure the negative effects will pass in more familiar surroundings."
Draco nodded. He had no doubt that there was more to it than that, but he was also fairly sure that he'd find out later on.
It took longer than he had thought to shake off the effects of the potion. Its lingering effects seemed to be just fatigue, and strange dreams. At Hogwarts, or here, or places he didn't know, and trying desperately to see the face of a woman with red hair. He managed to finish his courses by owl, and went back for exam week...that being the soonest he could get through the day without a nap.
He had an odd feeling when he walked into the Advanced Potions classroom, but dismissed it. He was a little worried about the exam. Someone came in and set up behind him, but he ignored them....he'd opened the parchment on his bench, and realized that he had to get to work immediately if he was going to prepare the potion he'd been assigned within the time alotted. And once it was simmering neatly away over the bluebell flame, he opened the second scroll, took out his quill, and began answering the written questions. When he finished, he quenched the flame, dipped out a measure of the potion, and bottled it, then took it and his exam up to where Snape sat like a dark god presiding.
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," was all Snape said, and he turned to clean up his cauldron, and met a curious set of brown eyes. Ginny had just looked up from her work for a moment, then turned back to it. Draco dropped his ladle with a clatter, and flushed. What the hell was this? he thought as he scrubbed his cauldron and packed his kit up again into its case, then reduced it. She was a Weasley. Good thing she was smart, since they were perennially broke. He, a Malfoy, should not drop things just because a Weasley stares at him. And then, as he walked out of the classroom, he heard Pansy call his name, and put her out of mind.
The Leaving Feast wasn't particularly melancholy for Draco or for Slytherin in general. They all knew where they were going, and knew quite well they'd meet up again that summer or next fall. Draco didn't eat much... he hadn't had much of an appetite since the accident. But it was good to sit there with the familiar people one last time. He packed up his possessions, and when he walked out of Hogwarts, he did so with a feeling of finality. Next time he visited, he would be seeing his son or daughter. Life moves on.
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