Ch 10 Boring yet Necessary Transition Chapter

Draco lay on his bed in that muddled state between dreams and reality. A pleasant vibrating sensation warmed his stomach and a satisfied grin crawled onto his lips. He moved to stretch his arms above his head as consciousness threatened to pull him from the comforts of sleep and he felt two sharp jabs dig into his stomach. He was instantly awake, sitting upright and blinking the tired haze from his eyes.

He sought out the cause of his distress and discovered it was none other than the indignant ball of brown fur now standing next to him on the bed. "Atlas! You miserable old sod," he chuckled at the fat familiar. "You're a very bad kitty," he scolded as he scratched the cat's soft ears and maneuvered it off the bed. It was a well known fact that Draco had a soft spot for the old cat Crabbe had adopted two years prior. The cat had been a menace at first, leaving fur balls all around and sharpening his claws on Draco's favorite dragon hide boots, but it didn't take long before Atlas had settled down and became a welcome addition to the Slytherin boys' dormitory. Atlas was a lot like Draco and the two got along swimmingly (especially after the cat decided Draco was his favorite and completely snubbed everyone else).

Draco stood up from the bed and began to walk towards the door. His legs abruptly became weak and he stumbled to catch his balance on one of the bedposts. A rush of icy pain washed over his entire body and settled in his head. It felt like his brain was freezing in his skull. What's wrong with me? he wondered, as he sunk to the floor, letting the pain take control of his movements. He laid his head on the thick rug and curled his legs up under his body. I am going to die! he panicked. He had never had a headache, or any ache for that matter, this excruciating before and he actually began to fear for his life.

Gathering all the strength he could, Draco lifted himself onto his hands and knees and began to crawl towards the door. He was not going to just lay here and let death claim him; he was going to get help!

An icy tentacle coiled around his spine and squeezed causing him to stop at the foot of the door and wait for some kind of break from the crippling pain. Feeling the energy leave his body, Draco eyed the heavy oak door in front of him. Its lock was in place and sealed tight and he didn't have the strength to reach up for the knob so he pulled out his wand and blasted the door off of its hinges. He shielded his eyes from the splintering wood and dragged his weak body out of the room.

Once at the stairs, he peered down into the common room hoping to find someone to help him. No one seemed to be home. Since when can you blast away an entire door and not draw a crowd? he screamed in his mind.

The freezing sensation was not easing up and Draco began to feel nauseous. He eyed the stairs with contempt and began slithering down them on his belly. There was no way he could have walked down, he could hardly stand. He realized that he must look completely crazy blasting doors and creeping down the stairs, but he was in far too much pain to be embarrassed. He would have called out for help but he didn't think anyone would hear his weak voice.

Once down in the common room, he scanned it for occupants. "Where the fuck is everyone?" he cried out and then winced at the sharp stab of pain that followed.

"Mind your language, young man," came the voice of a nearby painting of Sarah the Stingy, a notable Slytherin.

"Sarah!" Draco shouted noticing the opportunity for help. "Go get Snape! It's an emergency," he rasped and tried to crawl up onto a nearby couch.

Sarah sniffed her nose at him and left her painting grumbling. "What do I look like, Snape's secretary?"

Relief flooded his mind. Snape's coming! He thought as he closed his eyes and rolled onto his back forgetting about the couch altogether. He had exhausted most of his energy in his pursuit for help and he no longer felt able to even hold up his head.

Within five minutes Snape swept into the Slytherin common room scowl in place. He hated being disturbed on a Sunday for silly student complaints. He had just been putting the finishing touches on a chapter for his newest edition of "Painfully Perplexing and Paradoxical Potions" when Sarah had stormed into a painting of a starlit desert and began complaining about a bossy foul mouthed blonde that was whining on the floor in Slytherin. He figured it was Malfoy based on the accurate description. And he hoped he didn't have to deal with a teenage boy going out of his mind with a lusty relapse.

What he found was not at all what he expected. His favorite student lay on his back at an awkward angle. Something must really be wrong for him to be rolling around on the floor in such expensive clothes, Snape thought. He'd known Malfoy for 18 years and was yet to see the boy so much as sit in a dusty chair without making a fuss.

"Draco," Snape called as he approached the youth. Malfoy blinked open his eyes but made no attempt to get up. "What's happened?" Snape asked as he leaned down and checked the boy's pulse. He expected it to be weak, but it was racing. "Where are you injured?" he asked after looking over the boy and seeing nothing outwardly wrong.

Draco didn't answer but he just pointed to his head and cringed.

"Your head hurts?" Snape asked. "Did you fall?" Draco simply shook his head and groaned aloud. By this point Snape was starting to get frustrated. "Answer me, boy!" he ordered and cast an "enervate" on him not to wake him, but to liven him up.

Draco seemed to recover a little because he minutely turned his head and began talking. "I don't know what's wrong, but I have a terrible headache," Draco said softly, closing his eyes and rolling over to his side. "It feels like my head is frozen."

Snape placed his wand on Draco's forehead and whispered an incantation. "Health: Good, Temperature: Normal" appeared in small red lettering and then faded away. What is going on here? Snape wondered. Perhaps Malfoy was suffering from a run of the mill migraine? But he'd said his head felt frozen. Suddenly, a light flicked on in Snape's head.

"Draco, I need you to concentrate," he requested turning the boy's face to look at him, "What did you do earlier today?"

"Nothing," Draco said quickly becoming defensive. "I haven't done any Tripping Tonic if that's what you're asking," he grunted and reached up for a throw pillow. "I haven't done that since I got caught."

"No, no, I'm not talking about drugs! I am talking about your day. I just want to know what you did before you began to feel ill." Snape was quickly losing patience with the teen.

"I don't know. I just woke up from a nap and felt like shit," he paused for a moment and sucked in a breath as frozen needles began to prick his temples.

"And before you went to sleep, what did you do?" Snape prompted.

"I'm not sure…I had breakfast in the Great Hall, I went to tutoring in the library, I stopped by Hufflepuff to see Sienna, but she wasn't home, so I came down to my room I think…where I must have fallen asleep. Actually, I can't really remember anything after I left Hufflepuff. I think I came straight here, but I'm not sure," Draco was starting to get confused. What did I do today?

Snape seemed satisfied with his answer because he nodded and said, "I see," as he began to help Draco up onto the couch. "Sit here for a moment. I think I have something in my lab that will help you." He turned to leave the room but paused when he heard Draco groan and slam his head onto the nearest armrest. "Relax," he whispered as he cast a calming spell that forced the target into a painless suspension.

Snape hurried to his lab and found a small vile of extra-strength pain reliever. He turned to his bookcase and took out an encyclopedia of mind-altering potions. He found the entry on the Mind Wipe and read it over quickly. Just as he suspected, Draco was exhibiting all of the side effects of the potion.

"The subject will complain of an intense 'freezing' sensation that can be easily remedied by adding a pinch of lovage to an ordinary pain reliever. The lovage will cause the brain to swell slightly, stimulating the damaged neurons."

Snape prepared the prescribed concoction and headed back to Slytherin. He had a feeling that Ms. Granger had probably prepared this potion and wondered briefly if he should send up a headache potion for her as well. No, that would be a little suspicious, he decided as he faced a blank stone wall. "Let me in or I'll kill your puppy," he mumbled embarrassed. That was the last time he would ever let a student pick the password.

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Meanwhile in the Gryffindor tower, Hermione was just waking up from a nap as well. She rolled over and glanced at the clock. 5:15? In the morning or night? She wondered as she got out of bed and threw a robe on over her pajamas. It must be night because I am the only one up here. She noted as she headed for the door.

Suddenly she felt extremely faint as a wash of ice cold slammed into her like a wrecking ball. She fell back onto the nearest bed and writhed in pain. Most of the freezing receded and settled into her head where it pulsed and contracted with agonizing sharpness. What's happening to me? she wondered as she placed her hands on her head to feel the temperature. She was sure that it would be ice cold, but it felt as warm as it normally would.

"Harry!" she called out and then regretted it as icy fingers squeezed her brain. She angled her wand toward the cracked door and sent red sparks flying out. She hoped someone would see them and come help her. I'm dying! She thought as she placed her wand to her temple and cast a warming charm in an attempt to warm her brain.

"Hermione?" she heard from somewhere below. "Are you okay?" came the worried voice of Harry Potter. She knew she couldn't yell again so she held her wand up to her throat and whispered, "Sonorous". Instantly her voice was amplified and she answered her friend.

"No Harry, I'm going to die! I need Madame Pomfrey!" she said glad that she had the luxury of magic.

"What?" Harry called confused and scared. Hermione could hear the sound of Harry trying to run up the stairs to her room and the wailing siren go off, followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground. Stupid fucking staircase! She needed help and Harry couldn't do it because he was a boy.

A few minutes past and Harry flew into the room on his broom. The earsplitting siren resumed alerting anyone who could hear that a boy was in the girl's dorm but Harry didn't care. His friend needed him and that was all that mattered. "Hermione!" He called, spotting her on a bed and rushing to her side. "What's wrong?"

"My head is frozen and I think I'm going to die!" she hissed.

Harry reached out and felt her forehead. It felt normal. "Hermione, your head feels fine. Are you sure it's not a just a headache?" He had a suspicion that this was probably a byproduct of the Mind Wipe potion she said she was going to take.

"No!" she shouted and then dry-heaved from the pain.

Harry paled and looked around the room. Surely Hermione would have planned for this before she took the potion. He noticed a small vial of headache potion sitting on her nightstand and accio-ed it over. There were no other medicines sitting out, so she must have put placed it there for this purpose. He scooped her up and rested her shoulders against him. "Drink this," he said as he uncorked the bottle and tipped it up to her lips.

She swallowed the liquid without question hoping for some kind of relief. Almost instantly she felt the squeezing release and her head start to warm up. Wow, this works fast! She thought happily as she felt water melting and trickling down her neck. She placed her fingers behind her head expecting to feel a pool of water, but was surprised that her hair was dry.

"Mr. Potter! What is the meaning of this?" came the angry voice of Professor McGonagall from the open doorway.

Harry whipped his head around and blushed as he realized he was in a very compromising position. He was in a bed with his arms wrapped around a tired and panting Hermione. "Professor!" he gasped surprised as he jumped out of the bed. "I can explain."

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Two hours later, Harry, Hermione and Ron were seated in the Great Hall having dinner.

"I can't believe McGonagall thought you two were shagging!" Ron laughed as he poured himself a glass of water.

"Ron! She did not think that," Hermione choked as she looked around embarrassedly. "She was just mad that he was in the girls' dorm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that," quipped Ron as he winked at Harry. Giving Hermione a hard time for her prudery was always a fun pastime. "What must she think of you?"

"Alright, give it a rest Ron," Harry said smiling. "She obviously believed us because she didn't give me detention!"

"That's right," Hermione nodded and a silence fell over the group. "I wonder what came over me," Hermione said after a while. "I must be getting sick or something."

"Don't you think it had something to do with that Po...the puuuhh…the po..po.."

"Ron what has gotten into you tonight?" Hermione asked confused.

Harry shot Ron a warning glance and Ron suddenly remembered. Oh right, the oath.

"Er, nothing Hermione, sorry," he said and then looked at Harry again, who was now rolling his eyes. "I'm just glad that you are feeling better."

"Yeah me too," said Hermione not noticing the boys' back and forth glances. "Well, I am off to the library. I took such a long nap this afternoon that I didn't finish my homework!" she announced as she got up and pranced out of the hall.

"So, I guess the potion worked," Ron said amazed after Hermione left.

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry sighed.

'This just feels so wrong. I hate that we know why she got sick, but we can't talk to her about it. I feel like such a liar." He was already regretting the oath he'd taken

"Well at least it'll be easy for us to keep our mouths shut," Ron said. "Did you see how I physically couldn't tell her about the potion? It was weird, I knew what I wanted to say, but the words just stuck in my mouth. I couldn't spit them out!"

"Yeah, easy," Harry agreed halfheartedly. He didn't find anything easy about deceiving his friend.

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It was Monday afternoon and Draco sat at the only empty table in the greenhouse. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone today. He had been feeling rather odd and completely forgetful since yesterday and just needed a break from people.

"Today we will begin creating wands from the trees you've been growing. I will pair you off into partners and you will choose one tree to harvest. Please take this seriously students, for the success of your wand counts for half of your final grade," Professor Sprout babbled as Draco looked around the room. Partners? That's just fantastic, he thought sarcastically. There wasn't one person in this class that he'd want to work with.

At that precise moment Hermione burst through the door soaking wet and out of breath. She scanned the room and headed to the only open seat left, right next to Draco.

"Nice of you to join us, Ms. Granger," Professor Sprout chided, "That will be 5 points from Gryffindor for tardiness," she continued giving the girl a stern look.

"Sorry Professor," Hermione blushed as she slid into her seat.

Professor Sprout turned back to her lesson plan and continued with her directions.

"Oh, this is perfect" Draco whispered giving Hermione a disgusted glare. "Not only do you come to class looking like a drowned poodle, but you have to smell like one too?"

"Bugger off, Malfoy. I smell fine," Hermione spat back. She was not in the mood to trade insults with him today.

"Yeah, maybe to you," he said wrinkling his nose, "but to me, you smell like what you are: a fucking wet dog."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but was stopped by something Professor Sprout was saying, "…well you all look pretty well matched to me, so why don't you just partner with the person sitting next to you."

Both Draco and Hermione turned their heads to scowl at one another.

"I hate you," Hermione said angrily.

"The feeling's mutual."

This chapter is too short, but adding the next part would mess up the flow…so it is what it is.