A magical muggle cold will be a Draco/Harry story, and I will try update twice a month, but being the bussy school girl I am, it might not happen.
The story will be Boy on Boy, so if you dont like, dont read.
And please, first real attempt on a story, so reviews will be appreciated.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter!
Best regards
Lovely Thoughts
A Magical Muggle Cold
Draco Malfoy was not having a good day.
For some unintelligently reason, his head was pounding a- mile-a-minute, and it felt like Hippogriffs were practising tap dancing on his back. His usually pale complexion had a greyish tinge to it, and his hair wasn't half as glossy as it should be. Even the slightest sound made him want to turn on the spot, march back to his room, and never return. The only thing that kept him from doing just that was his reputation and grades, the Slytherins had an important potion test today he couldn't miss.
If he just steered away from noisy conversations, he should be able to survive the day.
He hoped…
Unfortunately for him, his closest acquaintance was Pansy Parkinson, the most talkative person in Slytherin possibly the whole school. He was dreading breakfast, since the combination of Pansy, food, eating and talking made his stomach churn. Draco chose to ignore it, and walked through the doors of the Great Hall.
Thankfully the Great Hall was quite empty when he arrived; only a dozen Ravenclaws and a handful of Slytherins were filling it. Something that was unusual this late in the morning, but Draco silently thanked whichever god wanting him to survive the day, and went to sit down next to Pansy. His head would make sure he regretted the action, but he wanted to figure out where the rest of the students where.
He was greeted with a sympathetic: "Good morning. Oh, you look awful Draco dear." from the girl he sat down across. Draco rolled his eyes as he reached for the toast, the only thing that looked appetizing at the moment. For being a Slytherin, Pansy sure had a habit of stating the obvious.
"Why, thank you, Pansy. Now I both feel and look awful. You've just made my day a whole lot better." He drawled, sounding very much like their favourite potion master.
Pansy, to her credit, pulled a shocked face at him, and asked in a low and frightened voice "Who are you, and what have you done to my annoyingly- cheery- in- the- morning- Dragon?"
"He died a slow and very painful death on his way here."
"That bad, huh?" She asked, and Draco nodded
They looked at each other and smirked, ending the morning greeting in a very Slytherin fashion. The moment however was broken when a Ravenclaw managed to drop the book he was reading. The loud sound it made as it hit the floor made Draco flinch, his head once again throbbing in protest. Thank Merlin the room had been quiet until then. That reminded him…
"Where are the rest of the students?" He asked the fellow Slytherin sitting by his side.
She shrugged. "Apparently, half of the castle has fallen ill. A bad case of muggle cold they said. The other half is visiting in the hospital wing, making sure they are okay. They will probably be back to lunch."
Draco stopped trying to force down that damn piece of bread and turned towards her. "A muggle cold? Aren't magical people supposed to be immune to that?" He questioned, trying to remember the little he knew about muggle colds. 'Let's see…' he thought. 'The patient gets a bad cought, high fever, easily tired…' there was something more, but Draco couldn't remember what.
"Well, yes. I guess, but those viruses are supposed to be really tricky, something about adapting to magic and such. Nothing a potion or two can't handle, though." Pansy told him offhandedly, and Draco decided to let the matter drop.
"So, where were you last night? I didn't see you in the dormitory." He asked. Knowing his head would hate him for it later, he sat back and tried to find a comfortable position for his aching muscles and prepared for a long breakfast.
*half an hour later*
How he wish he hadn't…
His head was pounding worse than he ever had imagined it could, including his worst hangovers, and his body was practically screaming for mercy. Malfoy rules be damned, he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. Draco tried, he really did, to concentrate on Pansy's voice, but it seemed impossible to actually understand what she was saying. Whatever Dean Thomas did, Draco couldn't muster up energy to care; he was much too busy trying to stay conscious.
A hand touched his shoulder. "Are you okay, Draco?" Pansy asked, sounding worried. "I'm fine, just a bit dizzy." He answered, shrugging her hand off. "Let's go, we have potions first thing today."
"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Draco, who had risen from the table, simply nodded.
They went to potions together. When they arrived the room was empty, and they snatched seats somewhere in the middle of the room. It was a perfect place really, not close enough to be instantly watched be Snape, and not that far in the back they couldn't hear what were said.
The door opened, and Snape walked into the room. Speak of the devil and he will appear, Draco thought amused. The man walked to his desk and seized the only two students that apparently would attend his lesson. He raised an eyebrow. "This looks like it will be a peaceful test." The professor stated, but before he could get continue, a knock was heard from behind the door. Draco thought he heard a "or not" coming from Snape as he walked over and opened it, but he wouldn't bet on it. He was surprised he actually could hear anything over the pounding in his head. Turning his attention back on the sight in front of him, Draco felt his eyes widen. Harry Potter, the Bloody Boy Who Lived to defeat He Who Must Not Be Named, was standing in the doorframe looking winded and out of breath. He was saying something to Snape and handing him a note.
"What do you think he is doing?" Pansy whispered, low enough for only Draco to hear. Potters eyes fell on him and narrowed. Draco held his gaze and used this opportunity to seize him up. The green eyed boy was still as short as he used to be, but not as scrawny. He had grown his hair, now letting it fall to his shoulders, making it controllable. Full lips, green eyes, high cheekbones and a petite build made him look, for lack of better words, cute.
Realizing exactly what he was thinking, Draco shook his head forcefully, trying to get rid of the image his mind supplied him. Realising that shaking his head did nothing but make his head hurt, he stopped. Potter's frown deepened. Why was he frowning? Draco hadn't said anything vile to him yet.
He was abruptly dragged out of his thinking box as professor Snape gestured Potter to sit down. "Glad to see you gracing us with your presence today, Mr Potter. Five points from Gryffindor for being late. Please state the three uses of Pixie blood in potions." Snape sneered at him, falling into the role as the hated potions master with ease.
Potter just looked at him, tilting his head as if he was trying to solve a puzzle and answered without hesitation. "Pixiedust are only used in healing potions, sir. It strengthens the immune system, and shortens the patient's recovery time. When in a healing coma, pixie dust will stimulate the body and make sure it doesn't shut down." Draco felt his eyes widen and he was sure Pansy had a similar reaction. Snape however, showed no sign of surprise. "Correct" he said and turned towards Draco and Pansy, Potter silently seating himself on the desk next to Draco. "You'll be making a cold potion today. Since the rest of the class is absent the test will be retaken next week. The instructions are written on the blackboard, so get to work."
Draco felt like groaning. All this stress for nothing! He could have spent the day in bed, resting! Somebody wanted him to suffer. Badly.
Trying to pull himself together, Draco set to work. The cold potion wasn't hard to make, but unstable. One mistake and the potion could explode in the face of the brewer, and Draco wasn't feeling well. Just perfect.
He was halfway through the instructions when his vision started spinning. His head throbbed and he felt lightheaded. The last thing he saw before the world went black was Potter lying on top of him, saying things he was incapable of catching.
What do you think? Like it? Hate it?
Naxt chapter will be from Harrys P.o.v.