Disclaimer-Im not JK Rowling.
"Draco ,you will follow me. You must obey me in all things. The only person more important then me is, of course, the Dark Lord."
"He has disobeyed a direct order, he must be punished."
"Of course we aren't going to send him to Durmstrang, who knows how they will treat him!"
"Crucio""
Draco woke with a start. He was soaked with sweat, and breathing heavily. The nightmares had come, despite the potion. Perhaps he had taken the wrong dosage?
No, Draco was careful and thorough with this kind of thing. Not only that, but he had been taking the potion for long enough to know what he's doing.
He sat up, puzzled. The dreams still haunted his thoughts, but more abstract then they had been when he first awoke. He was dreaming, and that was the problem. The other problem was that he was completely exhausted and, as a passing though, worried. He knew that, once or twice, before he started the potion, he would scream in his sleep, bringing his house elf in a panic. Did he scream this night? If he had, would Granger come?
Draco quieted his breathing, but heard no sounds from the common room, or beyond. He relaxed-no one had heard him, if he did, in fact scream.
He got out of his bed, and went to where he had his potions, wondering if, perhaps, he had been too tired to take the proper amount.
No. He had no did anything wrong, but, upon further inspection, found marks on the bottle in which he kept the potion. This was the bottle from home.
He set it aside, deciding to talk to Professor Snape, to see if something was amiss. Until then, sleep. He hoped that he was too exhausted to dream anymore.
Hermione woke, with the feeling of having missed something. She hated waking up this way, but, it had become more common after her family's massa cur. It was a passing phase, she was sure of it, but couldn't wait to be rid of it. It was the most annoying thing ever.
Besides the head boy, of course. Even if he wasn't, you know, him, he would still be annoying due to the fact that he was purposely not answering her questions. By question, she meant why he was at her family burial.
The thought still bothered her, caught her off guard and rooted itself in her brain, refusing to concentrate on what she was actually doing. She had to distract herself during these times, and hope that she would get her train of thought back when she could continue working.
No, she thought, she would not jump onto this thought train so early in the morning, She had entirely too many other things to do. First, and foremost, a shower. Then, coffee. Perhaps some breakfast, depending on how she felt after the coffee.
She grabbed some clothing to wear under her robes-under things, a pair of black knee length shorts-since it was still warm-and a white tank top, and hopped into the gleaming black bathroom. Her shower was quick, and smelled of ginger and bergamot. She dressed quickly, and went to the vanity. She had asked Professor Dumbledore the year before if she could have a charm that would make her CD player work. He had, thankfully, given her one, and she hit the "play" button.
Without warning, loud music blared from the small machine. Portishead, her favorite for the morning time.
She picked up her brush, and looked at her hair. First things first, she needed a smoothing serum, which helped untangle her unruly curls. That done, she ran her brush through, carefully, trying not to rip or shread her locks. Admittedly, she got frustrated sometimes, and just ripped it apart, but she was trying to be better about it. It wasn't like she could grow another head of hair anytime soon.
After getting all the tangles out, she separated the two sides, putting them each in a loose elastic. In turn, each side was braided down the side, to the back of her head. She let her almost bangs (pieces that were ripped and to short to fit in) form into curls around her face. She looked back to admire the view, and, was satisfied.
She quickly put some makeup-powder, eyeliner and mascara-grabbed her school bag, and dashed out the door. She turned back, half-way down her stairs, when she realized that she wasn't wearing her robes. She pulled them up, and ran out the door, hoping that she would make it in time for breakfast, she was hungry now, and despretly needed coffee.
She was just heading towards the heads door, when she saw Draco. Now, this in itself wasn't stop worthy, she shared quarters with him, of course she should expect to see him. What made Hermione pause, made her stomach twist in knots of panic and fear was the look on Draco's face. And, that he was wearing only boxers.
"Draco?" she said tentitivly, wondering what in the bloody hell was going on. She hoped that he was going to be alright, or, perhaps, rebuke her for using his first time, or some such thing. Something that would ease her fear and worry. She knew something wasn't right. She could feel it in the air, and it prickled her skin, making it goose bump.
She started shuffling towards him, slowly. She didn't want to startle him, but, clearly, something big was wrong.
"Draco?" she said again, louder this time.
After getting no response, again, she sped her steps slightly, the gut-wrenching fear growing stronger and tighter around her insides, making them crawl. Which, on an empty, coffee-less stomach, was certainly not pleasant.
She reached the couches- which, shit noted, she hadn't even seen the previous night, and peered down to the crimson couches, and, to Draco.
Her heart stopped.
Draco was curled in a ball, swaying back and forth, eyes darting every which way. She couldn't tell if he was awake and trapped in some sort of personal hell, or asleep and dreaming. She had known people to sleep with their eyes open, and, the Malfoy family would be likely candidates, knowing what she did of their history.
She tapped his shoulder "Draco?".
No response.
She tried shaking him (which, upon further thought, seemed rather pointless, since he was already doing that himself)
Still, no response.
The fear and panic intensified, she had never known such fear in her life-not even when she saw the Dark mark above her house.
Her mind ran through a list of possible things she could do, and, finally decided to floo the Headmistress. The fireplace in the common room had access to her rooms via floo, in case of emergencies. Thank Merlin, too.
She ran to the fireplace, still clutching her school bag, and threw some floo powder into the fire.
"Headmistress's office" Hermione said, no as clear as it could have been.
A few moments later, Minerva McGonagall appeared in the fireplace, looked as stern as usual.
"Miss Granger. How can -"
"Professor " Hermione interrupted "Its Draco, something's wrong. He wont respond, he;s on the couch, and" Hermione paused "I think he's been cursed."
End Transmission
