Love and Other Misfortunes

Chapter 2

Draco felt as if he were going to freeze to death as he floo'd home. He'd re-doubled the dosage of his potions before departing that morning, but their efficacy had vanished the moment Granger touched him. He'd always been meticulously careful to keep her out of arm's reach.

After months of slow agony the sensation of her hands on him had suddenly set everything right. She was warmth and light, and her touch brought colour back into the world. Snapping at her to scare her off had felt so much like dying he might as well have ripped his heart out of his chest and handed it to her. Every fiber of him screamed to pull her close, bury his face in her absurd hair, and let everything stop hurting, just for a moment.

It seemed terribly dim in the Manor as he stepped out of the fireplace, but when a Lumos Maximus failed to make the room seem any brighter, he realized with a sinking feeling that he could barely see at all.

"Miffy," he called, and the house elf popped into the room. At least, he assumed the elf had popped, she suddenly appeared but the accompanying sound had not. "Fetch my potion, doubled again from my current dose."

His stomach was roiling at the thought of consuming another drop of the vile stuff. He had been downing almost a pint every six hours. Miffy reappeared, wringing her hands,

"Miffy is sorry, there is not being enough potion to double the dose. Miffy is only bringing enough for one and a half doses."

"Fine," he said, snatching the large beaker from her hands. "Go to Jenkins and let him know I'll need another batch within the next six hours, and tell him that I'm needing to increase the dosage again."

Miffy popped away again and Draco let himself sag against the mantlepiece for a moment before forcing the beaker to his lips.

It felt like drinking maggots. The potion crawled and bubbled as it slunk across his tongue and down his throat. The closest thing he could approximate it to was that it smelled like a mixture of blood, dirt, and a public urinal, and tasted like someone had puréed lemon peels and sardines together. He forced himself not to retch the contents onto the aubusson rug; he knew from experience it was even worse coming back up.

Once it was settled in his stomach he closed his eyes and felt the potion begin to take effect. He stopped shivering and the room was more warmly lit when he opened his eyes again.

"Draco?" He turned and found his mother staring at him. Her expression was tense and pained; looking down he realized she was staring at the large beaker in his hand. He immediately slipped it behind his back.

"You're home early. Are you alright?" Her voice was trembling. It always seemed to tremble when she spoke to him. Ever since he had stumbled blindly into the parlor calling for Miffy to bring his potion. After taking it he found that he had been standing in front of his parents, staring at him in silent horror and dawning understanding.

His mother had cried in her room for days.

He ignored her question.

"I had an interesting run in with Granger today, Mother," he said, furious with her betrayal. "In Emeliory Bogfeld's office."

"Oh," said Narcissa in a light casual tone, raising a pale eyebrow. "Well, they both work in same department, I suppose it's not unusual for them to run into each other. What were you doing in the Department of Magical Creatures? I thought you were going to take it easy today, seeing as it's the first time in days that the potions have worked."

She sent him a pointed look.

"Well, since everything is now out in the open—you know perfectly well why I was there."