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Malfoys did not fail
Malfoys did not fail.
The words reverberated blankly through his mind, the Slitherin boy's tight mantra, yet his face remained as placid as stone.
Malfoys did not fail.
His knuckles were pale as his fingers imprinted themselves into his seat, aged wood desperately refusing to give into the boy's frustration.
Draco Malfoy sat at his aged oak desk, the smooth dead oak of the chair as ice against the bare skin of his neck. His back was stiff, head tilted just slightly down and gaze fixed as the newly splintered wood drew blood from his palms. They stung sorely, the knuckles dead white from the strain; yet he ignored them now, jaw clenched in his current agitation. Before him, files, books, quills and parchment were meticulously organized, labels magically burned into the many-shelved tower before him. Each item was set purposefully and neatly away. All but one. Father would not accept messiness.
Malfoys were not messy. Malfoys did not fail.
The Slytherin boy sat frozen, body rigid. Yet his eyes shifted slightly, falling upon a sole piece of parchment placed in front of him. It was marked and smeared with ink, folded with recent use. "Herbology" was its title.
And at the top, marked in red ink, was a single letter "F".
Malfoys did not fail.
Neville Longbottom would PAY.
---
An infinite expanse of white speckled tiles stared down at Neville Longbottom as he lay in the Hospital Wing, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to release him. The plump nurse scuttled about, deftly flicking her wand to summon various bottles and instruments while she arranged the room. She reviewed them crossly as they appeared, usually sending them with another twitch of her wrist to inspect him in one way or another, talking to him (or, more accurately, at him, since he couldn't get a word in edgewise) as she worked. She always spoke with her lips pursed, voice harsh and high pitched while she commented impatiently about the carelessness of Hogwarts students and their inadequate medical supplies. She had a habit of drumming her fingers along her wand whenever she stood still, stopping every so often to scribble something on the parchment at her side.
"…Would you please repeat what happened earlier this evening, Mr. Longbottom?" Madam Pomfrey interrupted herself to look quizzically over her spectacles at the boy before her.
Neville looked down from recounting the tiles on the ceiling and sat up slowly, restating what he had been telling her all night:
"I was…uh, in my room when I felt this – I don't know – strange pain in my head without any apparent reason…can I please go, Madam Pomfrey? I am feeling much better." For the 20th time that night he almost cursed Luna for grabbing his arm and leading him towards the Hospital wing.
But the woman before him simply clipped her wand on the bedpost and made a remark about students being stupid (which invariably involved a "no") before saying he should remain the night and she would be back to check on him in the morning.
Neville could only sigh and watch as she scuttled out of the room (in a manor not unlike that of a bee or very busy crab), turning out the lights with a flick of her wand as she left. He sat silently, raising his hand half-heartedly in a goodbye, following her shadow with his eyes as it disappeared behind the door. Oh Well he commented to himself blankly before turning his attention elsewhere, stopping to watch the moon soften the darkness of an only partly familiar room. It brought to his mind what had happened in the greenhouse, the dull image of her body above him making the color rise in his cheeks, though he couldn't tell why. So he laughed at himself for a moment to hide the blush before leaning back on the many pillows to once again begin counting the ceiling tiles.
~*~
"Expecto Patronum"
A silvery-transparent hare darted down the corridors without a sound, down the narrow and numerous halls of Hogwarts castle. Its body was weightless and quick and nearly invisible at its astonishing speed. To curious eyes at such an hour it would have appeared to be nothing but a stray moonbeam, yet it met no visitors along its path. Trails of silver were left to fade into the air wherever the creature stopped, and it only ever did so to twitch its nose in this direction or that. It was searching for something. Or, more accurately, someone.
With a flick of its tail the little creature stopped to wiggle its nose beneath a rusting suit of armor near the hospital wing, the light of a full moon falling gently across the floor. Once it was certain it would not be seen, it's already luminescent being bathed in moonlight, the hare raised itself on its hind legs, hand-like paws pushed tightly against its chest as its ears stood erect. For a moment it remained motionless but for the subtle twitching of those large silvery ears. Then, without hesitation, it squeezed through the gap below the huge double doors of the hospital wing and was gone.