Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Hmm, I always seem to forget to include this, as I think it is painfully obvious. I do NOT own anything you'd recognize.
"Please excuse the interruption!" shouted Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, over the din filling the Great Hall. "I have received some news from Madam Pomfrey of direct relevance to you and of great urgency. Please allow her to speak."
Draco rolled his eyes as the old woman straightened her robes, pursed her lips, and then gestured to the school's Healer to begin her speech. There were a few worried mumbles going around the room, but everyone had their eyes glued to the front of the large hall.
"Students, I regret to inform you that there has been a recent outbreak of lice." said Pomfrey, staring at her audience with an ever-so-serious expression plastered on her face.
Draco was confused. What the hell was Lice?
Was it a group of Voldemort-supporters? If it was, why wasn't McGonagall giving everyone the news instead of Pomfrey? Besides, his father hadn't mentioned anything.
His eyes scanned the large room, and he noticed that a lot of the muggle-borns and half-bloods looked horrified, while the others – mostly Purebloods – were unaffected by the news, looking bored.
The Healer seemed to realize that a significant portion of the students had no idea what she was talking about, so she continued.
"Lice are bugs that feed on human blood. They predominantly live in your hair, though there are varieties that live on the skin. If they were normal, I would be able to cast a simple spell and they'd all be gone."
Draco got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach; this was going to be bad news.
"However, they have been brought in by the Death Eaters and their giants. I also suspect some other magical creatures were carriers, but that isn't the most relevant detail right now. However, what this means is that the lice have been feeding on magical blood, making them stronger. They have resisted my spells, so everyone will be going through a head and hair search. Notify an adult if your head feels itchy. We'll have this sorted soon. All bedclothes and robes that are not in use will be washed tomorrow morning. The remainder will be done tomorrow evening."
Everyone sat in silence as the news sank in. The general mood of the room seemed to express shock, fear, and an increase in people scratching their heads. Potter, Draco noted as his eyes moved to the Gryffindor table out of habit, was talking to Granger, and they seemed to be caught in some kind of dispute.
Draco smirked. Their worry was laughable. No bug would be stupid enough to feed on a Pureblood. He expressed his thoughts to Nott, who was sitting beside him, and pretty soon, the majority of the Slytherin table was wearing holier-than-thou grins, feeling very lucky.
Draco reached up to sweep some strands of white-blond hair behind one ear, knowing that he would sacrifice a lot to maintain its health and to protect it from filthy bugs.
"But, Madam Pomfrey, you don't need to check my hair. I wash it every day. You need to be checking the mudbl-muggleborns! They're dirty, it's a fact, and they are the ones likely to attract bugs!"
Draco, along with the other Slytherin eighth-years, chuckled. Pansy's screeches could be heard from outside the infirmary.
The day after the announcement was made at dinner, the searches began.
Lessons were suspended – much to all of the students' glee – for the time being, and the Professors were given a crash-course on looking for lice. The Professors, armed with hairnets and gloves, called in the first years – first the Gryffindors, the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, then the Hufflepuffs.
Once students of that year were cleared, they were told to stay away from the second years and older students. They then moved onto the second years, searching by house. It continued in that fashion until finally, three days later, it was the eighth-year Slytherins' turn.
Much to Draco's dismay, Pansy's protests weren't being accepted, and more students were being called in.
To pass the time, Draco tried to remember who had been caught with lice so far.
He didn't really know all the names, but he knew that people from every house had been found with lice, even Slytherins, proving Draco's theory wrong. There were significantly fewer younger kids with lice. It seemed that the older students – ones who had participated in the battle – had been exposed to lice more than the younger students, which made sense, though it had certainly spread.
He knew for a fact that Granger didn't have lice, nor did Potter, but Weasel… Draco chuckled. Weasley had been searched, and McGonagall, the one searching Weasley's hair, had found signs of lice.
Unfortunately, the girl hadn't been found with the bugs. It would have been dreadfully amusing if the only Weasleys at Hogwarts had both had lice. He suspected their home was infested.
"Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass!" called Pomfrey, looking at them as though daring them to run.
Draco exchanged looks with Theo and Daphne, and they stepped into the infirmary with visible reluctance. It was a mess. There were students crying, some had some sort of goo spread over their scalps, and others were scratching at their heads. There were, of course, some who seemed to be there for no reason at all; they were sitting and reading, or writing on pieces of parchment – doing their homework.
He sat in the chair in front of Pomfrey, and she began sifting through his hair with two sticks, separating the strands and inspecting them closely. She was taking her sweet time, and Draco felt the strange urge to itch his head.
It's just the power of suggestion, he told himself, nothing more.
A full twenty minutes later – Draco had been counting off the seconds – Madam Pomfrey was finally done.
"Mister Malfoy," she said in a tone that betrayed the bad news, "I need to ask you to stay here for a few days."
He vaguely heard Theo being told something similar, and he definitely heard Daphne's sigh of relief, but he didn't want to hear anything. He wanted to disappear or fall through the ground.
How embarrassing, to have lice. There must have been a mistake.
He opened his mouth to say as much to the Evil One, Madam Pomfrey, but she shushed him.
"Malfoy, I'm serious. Go lie in that cot." She pointed to one of few remaining empty beds. He threw her his pointiest, iciest glare and crossed his arms. The Evil One returned his stare, raising one eyebrow and her wand arm, and Draco reconsidered just how prideful he was.
He went to go lay down, planning on feeling sorry for himself for the duration of his stay. Melancholy music played in his head, a soundtrack to his bleak existence. He almost started truly worrying, thinking about what his father might say if he heard that Draco - who had begged to come back to finish his schooling - had ended up with lice.
Still, a firm, cool calm held onto him.
He lay in the cot silently and closed his eyes after some time, weary of the day.
All too soon, he heard a pair of footsteps making their way to him. He hoped until the last moment that they would pass and leave him well alone, but the luck he'd been having that day continued in its path of horrific destruction.
Pomfrey spoke first. "Mister Malfoy. As I stated at dinner last night, magical methods of getting rid of these bugs aren't working, meaning we will be employing some muggle techniques."
Draco, eyes still firmly closed, nodded.
"The professors, however, can't hold off their lessons to help me any longer, so I have asked some students to help me here in the infirmary. These five or six students are at the top of their classes, so their Professors have let me, er, borrow them for the time being. Your nurse is in your year, so I'm sure you'll get along."
Pomfrey didn't sound completely convinced by her own words, which made Draco feel slightly worried. Who was this person, if it made the Healer sound so unsure? It couldn't possibly be a Hufflepuff, could it?
Madam Pomfrey mumbled something, presumably to the person beside her. Draco caught the words "introduce yourself".
"Hey, Malfoy. I'm going to be your nurse for the next little while. Not that I really want to be, so don't think I asked for this."
His eyes popped open in shock when he realized how familiar the voice sounded.
Please, please, please don't be… fuck.
"Hello, Potter."
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