Chilled Legacy

Chilled Legacy II

Harry looked up when the real business began.

"Now, I'm sure you're all wondering why I'm here," she said. "As you know from my letter, I've come to discuss the strange weather patterns occurring at the school."

She wants to talk about that? Harry thought, and raised an eyebrow.

"We told students the enchanted ceiling was malfunctioning. As I'm sure you've probably guessed, this is untrue. Now, in all my years of teaching, I know foul play when I see it."
McGonagall looked at Harry. "From the little evidence we have obtained, I have reasons to believe dark magic at play. A curse, if you will."

"Someone cursed the school?" Harry asked.

"I believe that might be the case. I was hoping you and Mr. Weasley might be of some help to solve our problem."

"Wait," Ron said. "Why'd you call us?"

Mr. Weasley scowled at Ron.

"What I mean is—there's plenty of Aurors out there."

McGonagall nodded. "Very true, Ronald, but given the previous incidents at Hogwarts, some still believe the school not to be the safest place for their children. There is even talk of the ministry attempting to close the school. If word of a curse gets out, we'll be in some serious trouble.

"I don't get much free time as the Headmistress," McGonagall explained. "And you two have untied a number of knots during your school years. I'm sure if manage to discover the origin of this one, I can forget you and Potter's missed graduation."

"Forget it?"

"Yes. If I remember correctly, you and Mr. Potter wished to be Aurors? Quite the hard career to obtain, especially without a diploma."

Harry laughed. "No need to bribe us, Professor. Of course we'll help you, right, Ron?"

"Absolutely...though, I'll still take you up on that diploma offer."

McGonagall smiled.

"It's settled then. Pack your trunks boys; you're going back to school!"

***

Draco had fallen asleep shortly after the panic attack. The amount of emotional energy it dragged out of him affected him physically as well. When he awoke, the girls' bathroom had mostly melted. It now just appeared as though Myrtle had flooded it once more.

"Crap, why didn't you wake me?"

"You looked like you needed your sleep."

"Shit. Shit. Shit! What time is it?"

Myrtle shrugged.

Draco ran out of the bathroom to find the corridors empty. The students must've still been in class. Which one, he did not know.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Draco walked for the exit. No use in attending class right now. He'd just tell his teacher his stomach had hurt and was in the bathroom this whole time. It wasn't a total lie.

The sun was lower in the sky, but not near sunset just yet.
At least he was alone. Being around people made it harder to control the ice. A strange type of discomfort came from being around others. One that hadn't before existed.

Draco snorted. Had he developed social anxiety now too?

The only security Draco possessed at those times he was forced to integrate were his pockets. That small barrier made everything easier.
This was the reason he headed for Hogsmead, to purchase gloves. It was impossible to maintain his hands covered in class where manual labor was aplenty.