Disclaimer: Now, see, what sucks here is that I don't even own the plot this time around. I'm sure this has been done a hundred thousand times over, but I just couldn't help myself! So here we go, another fic that I am not making money off of, and that is about characters I have no claim to whatsoever.

A/N: Well, this thing totally just jumped me one night when I should have been studying for finals. Didn't even give me any time to think about it, just made me sit down and start writing. /sigh/ Insufferable little plot bunnies... But who knows! Yall might actually get a long fic out of this! No promises, of course, but I'll admit it's not totally impossible ;)

Enjoy! ;P

"Sight to the Blind"
Plot-Bunny-Induced Nonsense from Jezunya

;P

Chapter 1 – In Darkness

It had all started when he'd forgotten his broom in the locker room down by the Quidditch pitch. He'd had to send Goyle down to fetch it, and he of course ignored the other boy's whines that the rain storm was really getting on now and it was freezing outside. All the more reason to go fetch the broom; it wouldn't do for such an expensive piece of equipment to be ruined by the harsh English weather.

The next morning, Goyle had trudged around looking rather red in the face. Then he'd started coughing. And then sneezing. That afternoon, Professor McGonagall had finally lost patience with the nuisance it was causing in her class and had sent him to the Hospital Wing. He'd rolled his eyes and looked back at the notes on the board he was supposed to be copying, not bothering to decide whether he was rolling his eyes at the old bat or at Goyle's weakness.

The next morning, he fell out of his small four-poster, feeling strangely fuzzy-headed. He wasn't exactly a morning person as it was, but today he was especially waspish, nearly reducing Parkinson to tears when she launched herself at him at breakfast, and then outright telling Crabbe and Goyle off for following him around like little lost first-years (never mind that it was practically their job to follow him around).

He was stumbling – actually stumbling – into Potions later that day, when Professor Snape took one wide-eyed look at his face, snatched his finished homework out of his outstretched hand, and sent him stumbling right back out of the dungeons and up to the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey clucked and shook her head as she directed him to go sit on one of the many beds lining the room while she went to fetch an appropriate potion.

"It's just a cold, but it's getting out of hand nonetheless," she said, returning to where he sat with a large bottle of some sickly-green fluid. "Gregory Goyle was in here just yesterday, and now you. I'll probably have all you Slytherin boys in here before too long. No doubt it's going around your dorm now."

"Just give me the bloody potion already, woman," he groused, his eyes closed tight against the sinus headache pounding in his forehead.

"Language, Mr. Malfoy!" Pomfrey snapped, and shoved a small decanter of carefully-measured potion into his hands.

He tossed back the potion in one gulp, making a rude gesture at the mediwitch's back as she turned to replace the potion on its shelf. Letting his eyes fall closed again, he waited for the potion to work its magic.

Ah, there it went. The pressure behind his eyes lessened after a few moments until it was almost unnoticeable, his throat no longer felt hot and scratchy, and he could actually breathe through his nose again.

He waited just a little longer than was necessary – no need to hurry back to class or anything – and then opened his eyes.

Or he thought he did, anyway.

He felt his eyes blink several times, but there was still no change. Everything remained pitch black.

"Um..." was all he could think to say for once.

"The potion should have taken affect by now, Mr. Malfoy. You can return to class now," Madam Pomfrey said, and he could hear her skirts rustling as she bustled over to him again. There was a moment of silence when he didn't move from his seat on the bed. "Is there something else wrong?" Pomfrey finally asked, her voice laced with suspicion. Probably thought he was just trying to get out of class.

"I- I can't see..." His voice sounded strangled to his ears, on the verge of panic.

Again, a moment of silence. Then, slowly, "What do you mean you 'can't see'?"

He nearly yelled. "I mean everything's dark! What do you think I mean? I can't see anything!"

"Alright, no need to yell," Pomfrey snapped, and he could hear her moving, though she remained right in front of him.

Then he felt her hand grasp his chin and he realized she must have knelt down so that she was level with his sitting position on the edge of the hospital bed. "Now just hold still while I check your eyes." He clenched his jaw, but did as he was told.

He heard her mutter a quiet, "Lumos," and then there was silence for a few moments. Then he felt something hard and wooden brush against his nose, going from one side of his face to the other, and he realized she must be sticking her lit-up wand right in his eyes. The only thing that kept him from jerking away and yelling in indignation was the rather unsettling fact that he still couldn't see any of it!

"Hm. No reaction to light," Pomfrey said, half to herself, as she released his chin and stood. He decided he didn't particularly like the worried tone to her voice.

"Well?" he demanded. "What are you going to do about it?"

He heard her give a quiet, "Hmph," and shift her weight around. A moment later she spoke again. "It seems you're having an allergic reaction to the cold potion," she said matter-of-factly. "Since you're already having a reaction, it'll be best not to give you any other potions that could react with it. Going to have to just let it run its course, I'm afraid."

"'Let it run its course'?" he echoed. "What does that mean?"

"It means, Mr. Malfoy," Madam Pomfrey replied sharply as he began to panic again, "that you are going to have to stay here in the Hospital Wing until your eyesight returns." She paused, and he heard her sniff almost disdainfully before continuing. "The cold potion will be out of your system in a few hours. If your sight isn't back to normal then, I'll see what I can do about it. Until then, I suggest you make yourself comfortable."

And with that, she bustled off into her office and was gone.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but he must have finally dozed off at some point, because he was suddenly being roused by voices in the previously silent ward.

"Um, Madam Pomfrey..?" a girl's voice called hesitantly from what he guessed must be the direction of the door to the Hospital Wing. She sounded young, though not like a little first year. Maybe closer to his own age, actually, though he didn't recognize the voice.

"Oh, dear! What are you doing here?" Pomfrey asked, and he could hear her hurrying out of her office. She sounded genuinely concerned about whoever had just walked in, he noted.

"I... I blacked out again... in Transfiguration." The girl's voice was quiet, shaky. He heard Pomfrey sigh.

"Well, certainly not the worst place for it to happen, though I'd rather it didn't happen at all. At least Minerva knew to send you here, and that you weren't just sleeping in class."

He heard the girl laugh nervously, though she sounded rather shaken up. Almost like she was about to start crying. He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Well, why don't you go sit down, dear, and I'll be out in a bit to give you your examination and your potion." Pomfrey bustled away again, and a few moments later he heard the bed next to his own creak slightly as someone sat down on it.

Not wanting to have to engage in any kind of conversation with some weepy little girl, he rolled onto his side so that his back was to the other occupant of the room.

There was a beat of silence before she spoke, her tone quiet and angry. "You know, you shouldn't listen in on other people's conversations."

"You know, you woke me up from a rather good nap," he retorted, not bothering to turn over to face the girl.

"Oh, shut it, Malfoy."

He tilted his head up and gave her a narrow-eyed glare over his shoulder, despite the fact that he still couldn't see anything. He had a pretty good idea of where she was because of her voice, but he just hoped he wasn't glaring off in the wrong direction like an idiot. "Do I know you?" he finally drawled, his tone clearly showing that he hoped not.

"Not really-"

"Then don't talk to me like you know me," he sneered, cutting her off and putting his back to her again.

He heard her snort. Not a very becoming sound. "Oh please. You're Draco Malfoy, for crying out loud. Everybody knows who you are."

"Of course they do," he smirked, not bothering to turn over or even open his eyes, "but you don't have to sound so bitter that you're such an insignificant nobody."

There was a sharp intake of breath, then several moments of silence, in which he could only assume she was trying desperately not to lose her temper. His smirk only widened. Finally, she spoke again, her voice accusatory. "What are you doing in here, anyway? You look fine."

"Which is more than I can say for you."

"Why you-!"

"Alright, that's enough, children," Madam Pomfrey said sharply, coming back into the room. She paused a little ways away from him and he heard something that sounded like an earthenware jug being set down on a nightstand. "Mr. Malfoy, if you're awake, I may as well check your eyes again," Pomfrey said, bustling over to him. He thought he could hear her pulling her wand out of her pocket and sighed, sitting up.

Just as before, she knelt in front of him and lit her wand, sticking the tip right up to his eyes. And just as before, he saw nothing but blackness.

He heard her sigh as she stood again. "Still no response. Well, the potion will still be going through your system for a few more hours, so I'm not particularly surprised."

"And if it doesn't clear up when the potion wears off..?" he asked, his voice carefully calm and cool – in a word, dangerous.

"Then we will treat it then," Pomfrey snapped, apparently not liking his tone. "And if worse comes to worst, your Head of House will contact a specialist from St. Mungo's to treat it. Either way, it is not a serious problem, Mr. Malfoy. Now, you, on the other hand," she said, turning away to speak to the girl on the other bed. Draco huffed in annoyance and settled back onto his pillows again.

"This is the third time this month?" Pomfrey asked, and he heard her pouring out whatever potion the girl was to drink.

"Yes, ma'am." The girl's voice was back to its quiet, nervous tone. In fact, she sounded distinctly embarrassed by whatever was wrong with her.

"Hm. Have you been sleep-walking?"

He heard the girl swallow thickly. "Not... Not so much, anymore. I mean, I did over the summer, at home, but... but last week was the first time this school year..."

"Last week? Why didn't you come tell me?"

"I didn't think of it..."

He heard Pomfrey sigh in exasperation. "Do you know what might have triggered it this time?"

"I... I think it might have been the chicken, at dinner last night..." the girl said, then quickly added, "I know I'm not supposed to have it, but I just forgot! I was talking to my friends and the food just appeared on the table and I just started eating, without thinking!"

Pomfrey sighed again, sounding disapproving. "You need to be thinking. If you're not careful, it'll only get worse, and with the end of the year coming, too..." She let out a sharp, exasperated breath. "Well, drink your potion, dear. You should try to get some rest before dinner time."

The girl must have nodded, because next he heard the clinking of a glass being picked up off the bedside table and then Pomfrey went bustling off back into her office.

There were a few moments of quiet in which the bed next to his creaked a little as the girl obviously made herself comfortable. Then, "So what's wrong with your eyes?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business," he drawled, rolling his eyes to himself before closing them again.

"Well, considering you just eavesdropped on Madam Pomfrey talking all about my problems, it only seems fair to share yours."

"I did not 'eavesdrop'," he growled, scowling but resisting the urge to roll over and face her. It wouldn't make a difference which way he was facing anyway – he still wouldn't be able to see her. "And if you want to be so secretive about your little 'problems' then maybe you should talk about them somewhere that isn't currently occupied by other people."

"Hey, you're the one refusing to talk about what's wrong." He could almost hear the smirk in her voice, "So of the two of us, I'd say you're the one being 'secretive'."

"Would you just shut up already so I can get back to sleep!" he snarled, suddenly whipping up to glare at the girl behind him.

There was a beat of silence before she spoke. "Can you even see me?"

He balked for a second. "Of course I can!" he lied. "I'm looking right at you, aren't I?"

Again, the smirk was evident in just the tone of her voice. "Nope, sorry. Down and to your left a bit more."

He glared, trying to pinpoint her voice, before just sniffing and rolling back over. "Whatever."

"So can you see at all?"

"I seem to recall saying that was none of your business..."

"Madam Pomfrey said your eyes weren't reacting to any light. I'm no mediwitch, but that doesn't sound good."

He groaned into his pillow before pulling it over his head to try to get some quiet.

"I bet you can't see anything at all, huh?" she continued. "I mean, she lit up her wand and everything and stuck it right in your face. I could see it all the way over here – your eyes were all dilated and there was no change whatsoever, even with the light shining directly in your eyes. You didn't even flinch..."

"Of course I didn't flinch," he growled, coming out from under his pillow and instinctively running a hand through his hair to flatten it back down. "Like I'd be scared of a little light in my eyes."

"It's got nothing to do with fear. It's just an instinctive reaction," she said, sounding amused. "Which doesn't seem like it'd be too out of character for you."

He blinked, then immediately dropped his hands from where they were still unconsciously grooming his hair, realizing her meaning. He glared in her general direction and she laughed. She laughed. She actually laughed at him!

"Oh, shut up!"

She chuckled a bit more, but he could hear her settling down into her bed again. "You don't have to be rude. But it's not a bad idea, actually. I'm supposed to be resting anyway." And with one last creak of her bed springs as she, he assumed, rolled so her back was to him, the room finally fell into blessed silence.

Draco grumbled a little to himself about stupid girls who didn't know when to shut up, but then just hunkered down into his own pillow to finish his nap.

888

When he next woke, the sun was nearing the horizon in the west, casting orange and red light against the clouds and lengthening the shadows along the floor of the Hospital Wing.

It took him a moment to realize that he could actually see said light and shadows.

He sat up and looked around, relishing in the light and colors all around him. That was until Madam Pomfrey stuck her head out of her office again.

"Oh, you're awake," she said briskly, pulling out her wand as she strode over to him.

He immediately recoiled, knowing what she meant to do. "I can see just fine now, so there's no need to stick that thing in my eyes again!"

"Well, let me just check and make sure everything is back to normal and then you can go."

Grudgingly, he held still while she grabbed his chin again and lit the end of her wand, turning his head this way and that and peering into his eyes. "Alright," she finally announced, straightening once more. "Everything looks fine. Dinner's nearly over now, so run along and you should be able to catch the tail end of it."

He stood and shrugged his robes back on over his uniform, glaring at the mediwitch's back as she turned to make her way back into her office. One did not tell Draco Malfoy to 'run along' like some mindless little child.

Speaking of which...

"Madam Pomfrey!" he called, stopping her just as she reached the door to her office. He ignored the cool look she gave him, and gestured to the now-vacated bed next to his own. "Who was that girl who was in here before? The one with the blackouts?"

Pomfrey's expression changed from cool to absolutely chilly in an instant. "It is not generally my policy to discuss students' ailments with other students. However, since you already know the ailment, the identity shall instead remain confidential. Now," and her eyes completely iced over, allowing for no argument, "out."

Sending her one last frustrated glare, he picked up his book bag and marched out.

8-888-8

Well, there you have it! Who could the mysterious girl be?

...Okay, yeah, like there's really any question there. I guess the only thing left to say is that I will almost definitely be making a longer fic out of this, if only because there was so much I had planned on putting in that just didn't fit anywhere in this first part! So yes, this is now officially a first chapter, not a one-shot. :P

Review Please! XD