Jackie: Dude, I was such a horrible writer two years ago.
RakitWhore: Yes. Yes you were indeed.
Draco-muse: I don't know, I think you wrote really good stories.
Jackie: I'm not talking about the stories. I'm talking about the structure. I hope that now that I've spent several hours on this chapter, it isn't as painfully horrible as it used to be...although I'm still not quite happy with it.
Draco-muse: Even without Agent Blorange, you put yourself down. Snap out of it!
RakitWhore: I'm just glad I wasn't here when this was originally written. Speaking of originals, the original Harry Potter story is not hers. If she did, the series would be called Draco Malfoy and the Obsessive Fangirl.
Jackie: Watch it. I brought you into this fic, and I can take you out.
Takeru-muse: And she will, too.
Jackie and Draco-muse: TAKERU-MUSE!
Takeru-muse: Yeah, I'm back, I was stuck on L410. Damn construction...anyways, now that I'm back...Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Dizziness
Grey clouds blanketed the sky, threatening rain as Ron strolled around the grounds. He was still upset about the incident in Potions class with Malfoy, swearing and had been swearing up and down to anyone who would listen that Malfoy did it to himself just to get him in trouble. Hermione, in her usual logic-before-feelings way, had given him all sorts of facts and figures about random nosebleeds being caused by stress or many other things. I guess that could be it...although what that pampered ferret has to be stressed about, I'll never know.
Looking up, he found himself outside the Quidditch pitch, and caught a brief glimpse of a green and blond blur dive down out of sight. Speak of the devil. The Slytherin team was well into their practice time, and he took a moment to watch their technique. Everything about the Slytherin team was rough. The keeper was practicing using his broom as a bat, trying to aim at the other players. The chasers were flying at breakneck speeds while passing the ball over and under each other. The beaters were using levitating dummies for target practice as they knocked the bludgers around. The seeker...
That's funny, thought Ron. Malfoy usually flies a whole lot faster than that. It was true...the blur Ron had seen earlier, on further inspection, was actually traveling quite a bit slower than seekers usually needed to. It also seemed like whenever the Snitch took a sharp dive or curve, Draco's path was a lot slower and careful. When he did make one final dive after the golden ball, it took him several swipes to grab onto the ball once it was within reach, and he almost slammed into the ground before he managed to pull his broom up. As he hovered near the ground, the tiny Snitch fluttering in his hand, Ron couldn't help but notice the way the boy looked. His long blonde hair had fallen into his eyes, and there was a flush to the boy's pale skin, which glowed with sweat and heat. Ron realized what he was thinking, and shook his head as if to dislodge the image from his brain. No, not Malfoy. Not any bloke...I think...I hope...
Practice ended, and the other Slytherins left the field. Draco, however, had stayed on his broom just a few inches above the ground. As Ron walked closer, he could see that there was something not quite right about him. The flush he had seen from a distance now looked more severe, and Draco's eyes were screwed up like he had a headache. He was still panting from the minor exertion, and his breathe was quick and shallow, as if he couldn't fill his lungs fast enough. He doesn't look well at all. Maybe he is stressed. As Ron neared the pitch, Draco slowly touched down, and Ron saw him falter as he shakily walked towards a bench on the sidelines. Draco then sat down and leaned forward, holding his head between his hands. Ron approached the bench, and he shook all thoughts of Draco's appearance out of his mind as he seized his opportunity.
"What's the matter, Malfoy, you allergic to sweat?"
"Leave me alone, Weasely, I don't bloody feel like it right now," Draco muttered, not even looking up. "Aww, boor ickle baby," Ron cooed sarcastically, "Does widdle Dwaco have a widdle headache?"
"What's the holdup, Malfoy?"
Ron and Draco both looked up to see Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team standing on the field in front of them. Draco shot Harry an icy stare out of one unflinched eye and sneered. "I'll be gone in a minute, Potter. I'm not going to try to steal any of your pathetic plays...as if we needed them."
Ron noticed that as Draco spoke, his hands were trembling ever so slightly against his face, and that he never moved his head. He only turned his eyes, which had taken on a distinctly glassy look. Malfoy can't be nervous about confronting Harry, he's done it since first year. But then, what's making him shake like that?
"Malfoy, unless you're out of here in 30 seconds, I'll have Madam Hooch escort you off the field!" Harry drawled through clenched teeth. Draco slowly stood up and glared at Harry for a second, and said, "Fine, I've got better things to do right now anyway." Draco's voice wavered a bit as he spoke, and his eyes seemed to glaze over for a second, almost like they went out of focus momentarily. He then stalked of, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team went back to discussing strategy. Only Ron saw Draco sway unsteadily before continuing off around the corner.
Harry's voice calling everyone to practice broke Ron's vigil over Draco's entrance, and he mounted his broom and kicked off into the sky. Ron still held the position of keeper on the Gryffindor team, and he ran his first few practice drills with ease. Harry then flew over and called to him. "Hey Ron, I'm going to work with just the chasers today...you can go on in." Smiling, Ron landed his broom just as the first few raindrops sprinkled against his forehead. After putting his broom up in the shed, he headed out of the pitch and towards the school, trying to think about anything but Malfoy.
Somehow, though, that's all that he could think about. His thoughts kept drifting back to how sick Draco had appeared before he left. Stop worrying. Hermione's probably right, he's just stressed out over something. Hermione's never been wrong before. And why am I worried anyway? He's a slimy greasy ferret who deserves to get sick. Anyway, I shouldn't worry about it even if he is sick, he'll make such a fuss over it that anything more than a cold would get treated immediately...and Pomfrey can cure anything even if I do catch it...
As Ron turned the corner, his thoughts were immediately cut short as he spotted a green-robed figure crumpled on the ground. Rushing over, he carefully turned the person on his back, and his fears were confirmed as blonde hair fanned out over the ground. Draco was completely unconscious, and his skin had turned from the deep flush of earlier to a deathly pale color. He was barely breathing, and Ron quickly placed his hand on his neck to check for a pulse. It was weak...but it was still there. He knew he should get him inside, but he didn't want to move him in case he was hurt.
Ron looked around, frantically searching for anyone who could help. The team wouldn't be able to hear him over the sounds of practice, and no one else was in sight. Panicking, he began screaming for help, hoping that somebody, anybody, would hear him.
Luckily, someone did hear him and came rushing to help. Unfortunately for Ron, it was Professor Snape. Kneeling down next to the fallen boy, he growled angrily at Ron, "What happened?" "I don't know sir, I was going in and I found him and I didn't see it happen and he was like this when I got here..." Ron rambled nervously. Dammit Malfoy, why are you always getting hurt around me?
Snape was ignoring Ron's frenzied ramblings as he checked for signs of life, then scooped Draco's light, limp figure into his arms. Draco didn't react at all to the change in position or altitude. "Follow me," Snape ordered as he rushed Draco into the school. Ron didn't have to be told twice, and was right on Snape's heels the whole way.
Malfoy...Draco, what's going on?
Takeru-muse: So, what'd I miss, besides Jackie learning how to write properly in the English language?
Jackie: Well, RakitWhore replaced Agent Blorange...
Draco-muse: So you don't have your little friend to diss me with anymore...
Jackie: And, by popular demand, this is now going to be a little bit of a slash story.
Takeru-muse: ((blank stare)) I was gone that long?
RakitWhore: Actually, she started this venture today, and she decided on the revisions about two days ago.
Draco-muse: But Agent Blorange has been stoned continuously throughout 2004, so yeah, you were.
Takeru-muse: Well...that just goes to show you, you can't even blink when Jackie's involved.
Jackie: That said...stay tuned!
