Even before Neville thought about whether he should get Morgan out of the pond or call the Aurors first, he knew that Morgan was gone. It was in those open eyes, bloodshot and unseeing.
A million thoughts raced in Neville's head then. If only I knew, if only I checked, if only I made sure, if only I doubted, if only I avoided Carrow's hex, if only I didn't stay in the Hospital Wing for those two days... I could have saved him, he thought.
But it was only for a moment.
He was up and on his feet in an instant, intent on getting to the Aurors.
He knew that if onlys weren't going to get him anywhere.
Amycus Carrow was finally gone from Hogwarts. Finally.
Ten minutes had passed ever since the Head Auror left the room with a floating Carrow, along with the chair he was bound to, following behind him; five since Draco Malfoy nodded to them his stiff farewell before walking briskly out of the room, unable to resist spending another minute away from Harry's bedside.
More Aurors had been dispatched to Greenhouse 3 to search for Morgan's body. After that, they would be gone from Hogwarts as well and everything will be under the Ministry's hands.
McGonagall finally allowed herself to sit on the soft cushion of her chair, shoulders drooping uncharacteristically low. She was too old for this.
Remus was still trembling with restrained anger, and it was with great effort that he stood rooted to his spot, eyes closed and taking deep, even breaths. He flinched in surprise when a hand touched his arm gently. When he realized that it was Snape, he gave a weak smile of apology.
Snape's face showed no emotion. He merely led Remus to a chair and, with another gentle touch, pushed his shoulder down for him to sit.
Remus followed obediently, but when he looked up at Snape, his pupils were still dilated, gold specks mixed in with the black. "Severus," he murmured, anxious. "Is Harry..." His voice broke at the end.
Snape nodded. Up this close, Remus could finally see signs that told him that Snape was tired as well, like the way his eyebrows furrowed together just slightly or how tightly his lips pressed together.
"Potter is fine," Snape said smoothly, gazing at him with eyes that were surprisingly understanding. "Pomfrey says he'll be up by dinner."
No one was comforted by his words though. Now that they knew what Carrow did, Harry waking up by dinner was nothing short of a miracle.
McGonagall took a deep breath that ended abruptly. A look of deep anguish and misery crossed her face. "If anything happened to that boy..." she murmured shakily.
Remus shared her look, although he looked infinitely more miserable and fearful than she did.
With another deep breath, McGonagall straightened her back. Their business wasn't done yet. She looked at Snape. "Severus, I take it you managed to extract answers from Professor Bridgewood?"
Snape nodded and that was it. His hand dropped from Remus' shoulder and everything about him was stone-cold again.
"All those instances of Potter falling into safety rooms were done by Carrow using Bridgewood's body. He struggled the first few times because Bridgewood tried to fight him off by opening the safety rooms almost immediately after Carrow had closed it or even just by forcibly keeping him in her mind to prevent him from going to the trapped Potter." If one looked closely, one might even see a tiny hint of approving respect for Bridgewood in Snape's expression. "After that, Carrow slowly got used to her mind."
A dark look crossed Snape's face. "He didn't Obliviate her, just modified her memories. I'm guessing that he thought it would be a problem if Bridgewood talked to anyone about missing parts of her memories."
McGonagall frowned, a heavy feeling descending on her stomach. Carrow obviously had all of this carefully planned out. "Modifying memories is a difficult endeavor..." she murmured.
Remus' expression hardened. "One that he obviously had a lot of practice with."
Snape nodded and continued, "Even Longbottom wasn't spared from the safety rooms. Twice. Carrow thought he was Potter."
McGonagall's face blanched at the thought of her students being in such grave danger in her school all this time. "Anything else?"
Snape started to shake his head, before a thought crossed his mind and had him pausing. "I would like to recommend a Mind Healer to Bridgewood."
Remus' head shot up in surprise. He blinked at Snape, sure that just a few hours ago the man was practically degrading Professor Bridgewood's existence. Whatever Snape had seen in Bridgewood's memories must have radically changed his opinion of her, enough that he actually wanted to help her get her mind back.
McGonagall's lips curved into a small, grateful, and knowing smile. "Alright. I suppose I can take over Transfiguration for a while."
Snape nodded. "Thank you. That is all."
"Thank you as well," McGonagall said, her eyes roaming from Snape to Remus. Finally, she stood up, smoothened down her robes, and squared her shoulders. "I do believe an announcement to the students is in order."
When Draco arrived in the Hospital Wing, Ron and Hermione were already there, huddled and conversing with Pansy and Blaise in low tones beside Harry's bed. Ron's freckles stood out more than ever on the paleness of his skin and Hermione kept her hand firmly on her mouth to stifle any teary gasps that may escape as Blaise related to them what had transpired earlier that morning.
Draco entered the room quietly, and when Hermione saw him, she actually ran to him and embraced him tightly.
He was dumbfounded. He looked at Ron, eyes wide, but the redhead just gave him a small, weak smile which Draco took as permission. He carefully put his arms around Hermione's shoulders and was surprised at how comforted he felt with that simple gesture. He was so wound tight from everything that had happened and he just wanted Harry to wake up.
All of what Carrow had said echoed dully in his mind and his heart felt unbearably heavy in his chest.
He couldn't help it when he let himself fall into Hermione's embrace and take a few, deep, shuddering breaths to get himself back together.
For Harry.
"Thank you," Hermione was whispering in his ear. She pulled back and her eyes were shining with unshed tears. She wiped at her eyes with the side of her hand and laughed weakly, "You must really love Harry, huh?" More tears welled up in her eyes. She looked at him gratefully. "Thank you."
Draco realized that there really was something different with all of them now. It wasn't like that sense of camaraderie they felt after they had gotten through the Chambers of the Philosopher's Stone together. That was more of a light friendship made by the sharing of an experience, much like the sharing of a secret. This was different. This... was deeper. Made by trust and respect.
He didn't quite understand just how he had managed to go from calling Hermione a Mudblood and insulting Ron's family to his face to embracing her and sharing looks of understanding with him, but he liked this. Very much.
And he was one hundred percent sure that all of this was due to Harry.
Swallowing thickly, Draco looked at Hermione earnestly in the eyes and said softly, "Yes, I really do."
In a low, soft voice, Draco narrated what had happened in the Headmistress' Office.
Ron and Hermione already knew of Nott kissing Harry from Blaise, and Draco told them about Amortentia but deliberately omitted the reason why he punched Carrow in the first place. He told them that it had been the Elder Wand that Carrow was after all along and that he had used forced Legilimens on Harry to find out about the Wand's whereabouts.
Ron's face was a pale white by then. "Legilimens," he muttered in disbelief. He thought about everything that Harry had been through. All those years in the Dursleys, all the hardships that he had been through in Hogwarts, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore... Just how much did Carrow dig up? He glanced at Harry despairingly.
Draco saw the despair in his face and stored that in his mind for later use. He would have to ask Weasley about it later. He didn't have any plans on telling them what Carrow had said about Harry's past, but with Weasley's expression, he was sure that Weasley knew.
Lastly, he told them where the real Morgan was.
Blaise's face drained of color. "That's where Neville is right now..."
Ron groaned shakily and Draco resisted the urge to do the same.
He felt another wrenching in his gut. This whole day was just full of bad happenings. He nodded at Blaise. "Go," he said softly. He just knew just how horrible it felt to know that someone you loved might be in danger. He felt it just a few hours ago.
Blaise was out of the door in a heartbeat.
Pansy looked at the door and then at Draco, obviously torn between her two friends.
Draco smiled weakly at her. "Go with him, Pans. I'm fine."
Pansy looked like she was about to tear up but she shook her head and pulled herself back together. "No, you're not, you stubborn, thick-headed nincompoop," she muttered and walked over to him. She glanced at his bleeding hand, before sighing. She kissed his cheek and then patted it gently with her hand. "I'll be back," she whispered before rushing off to follow Blaise.
Ron and Hermione were in the same predicament, looking worriedly at Harry and then at the door. Finally, Ron took a deep breath and promptly announced, "I'm going to Neville. I know Harry's in good hands."
At this, he looked pointedly at Draco, who felt his face burn at the trust he saw there.
Hermione took Ron's hand and squeezed it. "Be careful, Ron."
Ron smiled at her lovingly and kissed her forehead. "Always," he promised.
Draco felt his heart twist at the show of affection and glanced at Harry once more. Wake up, you inarticulate twit. You owe me a snogging session after that unsightly display you put on with Nott. It was a sad attempt at humor that only made him feel hollow.
As Ron passed Draco on his way out, he paused before glancing at Draco's bleeding hand. "I really hope you got that from punching Carrow."
Draco flashed him a wry smile.
Ron looked at him proudly before he was gone and out the doors.
"Ron likes you," Hermione said softly.
Draco felt something warm bloom in his chest. He didn't look at her. He told himself that it didn't matter if Harry's friends liked him or if Weasley, red-haired, freckled Ronald Weasley approved of him, but he knew that was a lie.
"Your ears are red," Hermione quipped from behind him good-naturedly.
"Shut up, Granger."
Draco moved closer to the bed and slipped fingers between Harry's. He exhaled in relief when he found it warm and did his best to ignore Hermione's little smile.
"Do you want me to heal that for you?"
Draco slowly shook his head. "No, it's fine."
Hermione said nothing and merely nodded in understanding.
Draco wasn't surprised when Hermione moved to stand beside him and even when she murmured quietly, "Tell me more about what Carrow did to him."
He always did know that Granger was a brilliant witch, even though it took him years to finally admit it.
When Blaise saw Greenhouse 3 in the distance, cloaked Aurors littered the area. He scanned the view, looking for Neville, heart beating loudly in his ears when he couldn't find him. He knew that the Aurors wouldn't let him inside the Greenhouse, but maybe he could disillusion himself...
"Blaise?"
Blaise jumped as a voice called him from his left. His knees nearly buckled with relief. "Neville!" He rushed forward, hand reaching for Neville's. "Are you alright?"
His eyes roamed the other's face looking for any injury, but other than the boy's unusual paleness, he found nothing. He inhaled deeply when Neville threw him a small, thankful smile.
"I'm fine," Neville said, eyes darting to the side to look at the Greenhouse. "The real Morgan is..."
"He's in there, isn't he?" Blaise asked softly.
Neville nodded, still staring in the distance. He swallowed thickly. "I found him. In a pond. He was covered in a bubble, but..." His lips pressed together tightly, before he shakily spoke again. "He's dead."
Blaise's breath held.
"That's no one's fault, Neville."
Their heads whipped towards Pansy, who had just arrived and was lightly gasping for breath from the running she did. Pansy didn't comment on their held hands and Neville didn't comment on her use of his first name.
Neville smiled at her ruefully. "I know."
Blaise squeezed his hand reassuringly, which made Neville blink and his cheeks color just a bit, as if he had just remembered that Blaise still hadn't let go of his hand.
"What are they doing in there?" Pansy asked as she flicked her bangs, wet from sweat, away from her face. She frowned at the sight of the many black cloaks, being reminded suddenly of Death Eaters. It always did give her goose bumps.
"They got Morgan out already. Said they'll bring his body to the Ministry and search for his family there," Neville said softly, reigning in his emotions as he remembered his conversation with one of the Aurors earlier.
("I wouldn't count on it though," the Auror murmured thoughtfully, almost as if he was just talking to himself. "Carrow wouldn't have pretended to be someone with close familial connections. Too many doors open for trouble."
Neville's heart twisted, feeling sorry for Morgan. He had all of Carrow's right requirements, but he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time... Before he could think about it, Neville reached out and grabbed the Auror's arm.
"If you can't find anyone, could you please..." He looked into the Auror's eyes and asked softly, pleadingly, "Give him a proper burial?"
And the Auror looked down at this student, this boy. He'd heard of Neville Longbottom, of course. Stories of Neville Longbottom slaying Voldemort's snake with the legendary Sword of Gryffindor swept through the wizarding world after the war. He'd heard of Alice and Frank Longbottom as well and couldn't even begin to imagine what this boy must have gone through growing up.
But looking at him now, the Auror had no doubts that this boy grew up into a fine, young man.
"Of course. You have my word, Mister Longbottom.")
"Neville!"
Ron's voice shouted at them from the distance.
Neville's face brightened slightly at the sight of his friend.
They waited for Ron to reach them and then waited for him to catch his breath when he finally did.
"Are you okay?" was the first question that slipped out of Ron's lips.
Neville answered automatically. "I'm fine –"
"No," Ron said, shaking his head as well as his hands for emphasis. He looked at Neville pointedly. "Are you okay?"
And Neville closed his mouth, inexpressibly touched at the concern he was getting from everyone. He glanced at Blaise and Pansy and couldn't stop his grin from forming. "I will be," he said honestly.
The Morgan that he was feeling sorry for was a stranger if he thought about it, because the Morgan that he had been working with for the past few months was really Amycus Carrow. But if he thought about how the real Morgan had been excited to work in Hogwarts, how the real Morgan would have been ecstatic at being given Greenhouse 3 to renovate and design as his own... It made him wish that things could have been different.
Ron finally saw Blaise's and Neville's held hands and a look of realization crossed his face. "Ah," he said wisely. "I see."
Pansy and Blaise looked smug. Neville's face burned.
In a desperate attempt to change the subject, he asked, "Where's Harry and Hermione? And Malfoy?"
The mood suddenly soured and Neville became cautious at the dark looks that formed on his friends' faces.
Ron sighed heavily and put a hand on his shoulder. "Harry's unconscious, mate. Carrow did Legilimens on him and..." His face formed into a scowl at the memory, but he shook his head, trying to get rid of the anger bubbling up inside of him. "Well, Harry's in the Infirmary right now."
Neville's eyes widened and he stared at Ron in disbelief. "Is Harry..."
"He'll be fine," Ron interjected quickly. He repeated it again, firmly. "Harry will be fine."
Neville nodded shakily. "Can I visit him?"
Ron nodded back, but looked over Neville's shoulder to gaze at the Greenhouse. "Won't they need you here?"
"No, they already kicked me out," Neville said, shaking his head. "Said it was no place for students right now."
Pansy snorted in a rather unladylike fashion. "Obviously, they didn't know what this place looked like during the Battle of Hogwarts."
Neville smiled ruefully at that. "They're investigating the plants in there right now, so I'm not allowed inside until tomorrow," he said, sighing. "I reckon I'll have to fix a lot of stuff there tomorrow."
"I'll help you," Blaise offered. "Tomorrow morning?"
Neville's head shot up and he looked at Blaise with wide eyes, blinking dumbly at the thought of Blaise actually helping him with plants.
Blaise looked mock-hurt. "I'm not that bad with plants. I got an E in Herbology," he joked.
Neville's cheeks turned pink and he shook his head quickly. "No, I didn't mean it that way – I meant – well..." He closed his mouth, aware that he was fumbling for words again. He sighed and just settled for smiling in amused defeat. "Thank you."
Ron rolled his eyes at the show but grinned widely after at the two. "We'll help too. Won't we, Parkinson?" He nudged Pansy with his elbow.
Pansy looked a bit green in the face. She grimaced and it was with a lot of effort that she finally gave one big, shaky and obviously forced nod. "Yeah. Help with plants and dirt. Yep."
Neville grinned and suddenly felt loads better.
Soon enough, an announcement echoed throughout Hogwarts castle, calling all students to the Great Hall.
Hermione, tense and pale from all that Draco had told her, glanced at the door. "I'm going. Someone needs to hear what Professor McGonagall has to say." She looked back at Draco, before her eyes traveled down his arm to where his hand clutched Harry's. She smiled and relaxed just a bit. "Don't worry too much. He's gone through worse."
Draco cringed. "I'm not sure how that's supposed to make me feel better, Granger."
Hermione's smile turned wry. "It means that Harry will be alright. He's not going to let something like this bring him down."
She turned and walked away, leaving her wistful words trailing behind her and echoing in Draco's ears.
"And I'm sure you won't let it either."
The rest of the day passed by uneventfully, but to Draco, it seemed like the longest day of his life. He sat by Harry's bedside, replaying the day's events and Carrow's words. He even let himself imagine the things that Carrow had described. Harry as a child, being locked up, scared of the darkness, hungry...
It made him sick that anyone could treat a child like that – could treat Harry like that.
He stopped those train of thoughts when he realized that his grip on Harry's hand had tightened and instead started to rack his brain for any educated guess on what effect Carrow's Legilimens might have on Harry, but then those thoughts started to lead to things that weren't pretty, so he stopped that thought as well.
He was spared from his mental sufferings when Blaise, Neville, Ron and Pansy came in the room. They narrated to him all about Neville finding Morgan's body and how the Aurors were now investigating the Greenhouse. Neville didn't seem as shaken as Draco expected him to be, which he thought might have had something to do with the fact that Blaise didn't seem to be letting go of Neville's hand anytime soon.
Pansy had bugged him about his own hand but he had told her, "It's what's keeping me grounded right now, Pans."
Her eyes became moist again and she requested to at least bandage it for him. He relented.
One bandaged hand later, Hermione came into the Infirmary and told them about what McGonagall's announcement had been about. It was basically to say that Carrow had finally been apprehended, which received a ground-shaking applause, and that McGonagall was to fill in the position of Transfiguration professor while Professor Bridgewood took a sick leave. This was met with lesser applause, because some students were a bit disappointed. Bridgewood at least meant to them a guaranteed O.
There was no mention of Harry Potter.
"—which is for the best, really," Hermione had ended with a sigh. "I don't know what to tell them if they suddenly asked me what had happened to him. And besides, Harry hates the attention."
Lunch rolled around but Draco steadfastly refused to leave Harry's side.
Begrudgingly, they left him there in the Hospital Wing to fill their stomachs but they did come back later, bringing with them corn muffins.
They spent their afternoon together, talking in low voices so as not to disturb Harry's sleep. They exchanged theories on what Carrow would do with the Elder Wand or if he'd be allowed to stay in the same cell as Alecto once he was back in Azkaban.
"I don't think so," Blaise had said slowly. "I think... I think that would be the real punishment for him instead of being in Azkaban."
Draco agreed.
Madame Pomfrey checked on Harry a few times, casting quick diagnostic spells. Draco was comforted by the fact that she looked pleased every time she cast one.
The Headmistress, Snape and Remus also dropped by.
As McGonagall asked the others about Harry's well-being, Remus pulled Draco just outside of the Hospital Wing's doors.
"Draco, about what Carrow said..." he trailed off worriedly.
Draco nodded. "I'm not going to tell anyone."
Remus shook his head. "It's not that. I think it's... better if Harry doesn't know that you know. Or that anyone of us knows." He bit his lip. "At least, not until he tells you on his own."
Draco nodded again, more slowly this time as realization dawned on him. If Harry knew that they knew from Carrow, he would probably be mortified. And defensive. And his damned self-persecution complex would probably kick in and make Draco's life miserable.
A thought struck him then and he looked up at Remus, unable to keep the slight accusation from his voice. "Did you know? Before?" he asked quietly.
Remus looked stricken. He raised a hand to cover his face and sighed deeply. "I didn't know those... details."
He looked like he was close to breaking down and Draco felt sympathy for the man. No doubt his guilt was probably eating him up.
"I just knew that his relatives weren't kind to him. But you see, we couldn't do anything, Draco. Sirius and I..." His voice cracked and he had to close his eyes for a bit. "Harry had to stay there," he whispered instead. "The power of the love of his mother when she saved him was the only thing protecting him from Voldemort. It was alive through her sister, Harry's aunt."
Draco swallowed thickly at the emotions pouring off of Remus. He could feel his control slipping as well; the dam ready to break. He allowed himself a tiny bit of reprieve.
"Harry's fine now though," he murmured, voice cracking similar to Remus' earlier. "He doesn't have to go back there anymore. And you're with him now. And there are no more cupboards under the stairs, and I'll make sure to make him eat until he can't anymore, and I swear, if any monster even dares to crawl under his bed, I will hex that infernal creature into the next life."
He ended his tirade with a deep inhale after having said all those things in a single breath.
Remus finally cracked a smile. He laid a hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed it gently, gratefully. "Sounds good. Let's work on that together then."
Back in the Hospital Wing, Neville had just asked Professor McGonagall if they already knew about Morgan's well-being.
McGonagall nodded, a sad, regretful expression clouding her face. "I've heard, Mister Longbottom. I'm very sorry that you were the one who had to find out in that way."
Neville shook his head, smiling weakly in an attempt to tell her that it was okay. It wasn't anyone's fault but Carrow's.
"Professor," Hermione said, and all attention turned to her. She began nervously, not sure if it was proper of her to ask. "How did Carrow keep Morgan alive? He had to have done so, since he needed Morgan for the Polyjuice Potion..."
"Dark Magic," Snape muttered darkly. "Cursed the body in a half-state. Carrow's stabilizing spells were all that Morgan lived on. After Carrow escaped, his body began to deteriorate."
Everyone's faces blanched. They had heard different kinds of horrible things that the Death Eaters had done during the war, and this was far from the worst. But to hear it again, even after everything was done...
"Constant vigilance."
McGonagall's voice was soft but firm as she looked her students. It was easy to guess what thoughts were going through their minds. She met their eyes one by one, and said again, "Constant vigilance, my children. Remember that."
Slowly, each of them nodded.
McGonagall smiled to herself, satisfied.
Remus and Draco were about to head back inside the Hospital Wing but the doors opened before they could reach for it. McGonagall and Snape were on their way out. Snape narrowed his eyes at Remus and Draco wondered if they had a fight before he froze in his tracks and did a double-take.
He relaxed. His godfather wasn't mad at Remus. He was concerned. Snape always did have funny ways of showing his feelings.
"I'm leaving Harry to you, Draco," McGonagall told him warmly. She smiled slightly. "Considering your history together, I advise you to try and not blow the Infirmary up. Madame Pomfrey wouldn't be pleased."
Draco was grateful for her attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "I'll try my best, Professor, but you know that Harry's the one who always starts it."
He ignored Snape's snort.
McGonagall's smile widened, and then they were gone.
Draco returned to Harry's bedside.
Snape had said five hours. Madame Pomfrey had said by dinner.
No one was surprised when both times came and passed them by without anything happening. They had hoped, though, and disappointment left a bitter taste in Draco's mouth and a heavy ache in his chest.
Finally, it was nearly curfew.
It had taken quite a bit of effort for Madame Pomfrey to shoo them out of the Infirmary and back to their respective dorms, but they followed obediently nonetheless.
And then Draco was alone with Harry.
Who wouldn't even twitch or groan or move or talk in his sleep.
Draco stared longingly at Harry's face, eager to see it animated with expressions and movements once more. He couldn't help himself. He leaned over and pressed his lips gently against Harry's, heart hurting all the while.
"Wake up, you daft twit," he whispered.
He knew, as he settled back in his stool and chose to obsess over the way Harry's chest rose and fall with his breathing instead, that it was going to be a long, sleepless night.
The morning brought nothing but disappointment to Ron and Hermione when they entered the Hospital Wing before breakfast only to find Harry still asleep and Draco slipping his school robes on.
"Did he wake up in the middle of the night?" Hermione asked Draco hopefully as she neared Harry's bed and lovingly brushed his hair away from his face.
Draco did the last of his buttons up, sighed softly, and shook his head.
Ron peered at his face closely. "Did you sleep?"
"Of course I did," Draco said, lying.
"Right. Because you don't look like shite and all."
Draco glared at him, but it was with no heat since the light around Ron had flickered black. He turned his nose up in disdain. "It's a good thing I believe you don't have an appreciation for beauty, Weasley, or I would have been insulted."
Hermione rolled her eyes, a small, sad smile playing on her lips at the effort of the boys to keep a sense of normalcy despite the dreary morning. She looked at Draco as he brushed his hair. He hadn't used gel on his hair since the start of the school year so now it looked soft and smooth. She was pretty sure Harry certainly took advantage of that fact a lot. Her eyes traveled to Draco's face and she frowned. "You really are pale, Draco."
"Must be the new moisturizer," Draco muttered distractedly.
Ron snorted but chose to wander off in the Hospital Wing instead of saying anything.
Hermione seated herself on the stool next to Harry's bed and was sure that it was where Draco had stayed up last night. She watched him as he took his books out of his trunk and into his satchel. "Are you going to eat breakfast in the Great Hall?"
Draco nodded, zipping his bag up. He shrugged, glancing at Harry's sleeping form. "He'll wake up soon with or without me," he said softly.
To Hermione, they sounded like words for self-comfort as well as words of... insecurity. Like he thought that it wasn't important to anyone else if he was in Harry's life or not.
Hermione sighed. She was over-thinking things again. "Let's walk together."
Draco paused, before nodding slowly. It would take a while before he would be completely comfortable with the idea of this easy friendship with Granger and Weasley, one that included small things like walking to breakfast together and not big, life-or-death situations like fighting big, giant snakes or figuring out the motives of vengeful, power-hungry ex-Death Eaters, but he wasn't opposed to it. Not at all.
He flashed her a small smile of gratitude. "I'm done. We can go now."
Hermione called Ron, and after making sure that Harry was still sleeping soundly, the three of them walked together towards the door.
As gentlemen, Ron and Draco let Hermione through first. Ron went second, but as he was halfway through the doorway, his hand slipped in his pocket to curl around a small object. With an agile flick of his wrist, he threw the object backwards, knowing that Draco's Seeker reflexes would be able to catch it easily.
Draco's face flushed as he realized what it was.
A small vial of Pepper-up Potion.
Breakfast just started Draco's day off terribly. No one had the nerve to approach him, what with him sporting a rehearsed scowl of vehemence designed to keep human beings away, but ever since he entered the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione and no Harry in sight, the whole room had been abuzz with gossip. To make matters worse, the problem with gossip is that it is almost always said with the mind knowing that it or parts of it are lies. Or a you're-not-sure truth, which is kind of a lie to your brain as well. At least, in Draco's case, it did.
In short, most of the students in the Great Hall that morning were enveloped in flickering darkness.
It was a sour sight to see after everything that happened yesterday. It didn't help that he had absolutely no sleep at all and was feeling generally sour.
"Nott won't leave his bed," Blaise supplied as if it was supposed to make Draco feel better.
It didn't. As much as he loathed the boy for that horrible image of him kissing Harry haunting Draco's mind ever since it happened, he knew that it was all Carrow's fault. He couldn't blame Theo for fancying Harry (even though that kind of sort of irked him too. Boyfriendly obligation and all, he supposed.). Harry really was a piece of work from that eternal bed hair of his to his really lame glasses to the way he would blush easily to his shy smiles to his horrible fashion sense, even down to his absolute hopelessness in all things relating Potions.
So Nott liking Harry was fine.
Just as long as he didn't act on it.
And even though he did, it was all Carrow's Imperius doing the work.
After all, one cannot be faulted by their thoughts but by their actions and all that.
In fact, Draco even wanted to make sure if Nott was alright. Getting Imperiused by an ex-Death Eater, being forced to do things against your will, drugging the Savior of the Wizarding World and forcibly kissing him, Draco supposed, were sure to take a toll on one's sanity.
He sighed loudly. Harry's Gryffindorness really was starting to get to him.
"Tell him I'm not going to hex his bits off," Draco announced, staring at his food like it personally insulted him.
"My, Draco," Pansy said coolly. "Not going Hufflepuff on us now, are you?"
Draco cringed. "I am, aren't I?"
Pansy's face softened.
"You're going to have to kill a baby Kneazle to get your Slytherin dignity back," Blaise said nonchalantly.
Draco knew his friends were trying to cheer him up and it was really hard to be cheered up when Harry's in the Hospital Wing after a painful mindfuck and Draco hadn't slept for more than twenty-four hours.
He loved his friends dearly though and obliged them. "Tell me where I can find this baby Kneazle you speak of."
The whole day was a struggle among the pull of his sleepy eyes against gravity, the hushed whispers of the gossipmongers all over the hallways, and his persisting worry for Harry. Needless to say, when Potions, the last subject for the day, arrived, Draco was in a terrible mood.
It didn't help that he stood alone at the table he shared with Harry, their table, and was doing the Potion alone. It also didn't help that one table over, Blaise and Longbottom kept on accidentally touching hands during simultaneous reaches for the newt's tail and the ladle and the tarragon.
Everything just reminded him of Harry and it made something in him ache terribly.
With a sigh, he stood up straighter in his seat and set about chopping the tarragon faster.
It was then that he realized that the ache wasn't going away. In fact, the pain was slowly expanding. Draco thought of the lemon juice he had during lunch. Maybe the acidity of it was doing him in. But then, as it spread and evolved into something larger, into something that burned and throbbed under the skin of his torso, Draco knew it wasn't caused by any lemons.
It wasn't that painful. It was actually bearable. Gritting his teeth, he waited for the pain to subside.
He'd talk to Severus later after class. Right now, he set aside the tarragon and started slicing the newt's tail, ignoring the coldness that had started to seep in his fingertips as he realized that, apparently, the botched up Restoration Potion in his system wasn't done with him yet.