Draco Malfoy
And the Bloodstone
_ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana
Chapter Nine
Draco Malfoy was walking in dark shadows the rest of the week. Draco Malfoy, fancying a girl? Not just any girl, but the one he had vowed on many occasions to hate until the end of the world. Bitterly, he thought of the world ending at any moment. Now that would be something to celebrate.
Even Hooch Against the Dark Arts, easily Draco's second-best class, had become boring. As Professor Blodsucan had promised back in September, they began to study vampires and other nonliving creatures the second week of December.
Professor Blodsucan rapped his wand against his desk at the front of the room to attract the attention of the palled class. Last year's Professor Remus Lupin could keep a class awake better than this man. Then again, he turned out to be a werewolf.
"Mister Malfoy," Blodsucan interrupted the boy's thoughts. "Repeat the last phrase I spoke."
Draco didn't hesitate to throw back a witty remark. "Something about the Dark Arts and how to protect ourselves from them?" A few students stifled laughter.
"No, that is incorrect. Would anyone like to tell us what we were discussing? How about you, Miss Luralby?"
Even simply hearing her name struck Malfoy harshly. He turned to see her, huddled in the back of the room next to an empty seat. She appeared just as out of it as Draco did.
"The different species of vampires, Professor. We were speaking about the Nosferatu, sir." Lisha never maintained eye contact with the teacher.
"And, Miss Luralby, what is the difference between the Nosferatu and most other forms of vampires?" Professor Blodsucan seemed to enjoy terrifying his students.
Lisha paused. "The Nosferatu is the only species of the nonliving that were never human. Therefore, they cannot be healed."
"Ah, so you were paying attention. Now, we have less than one week to your Christmas holiday. Everyone, I want a paper written by each of you in on the first day you return. Three feet... and a half," he added, when he heard groans from the class. The only student who didn't seem to be bothered was Hermione, who could write a ten-foot long paper in less than a day.
"There are few species of vampire who cannot be transformed back into their human forms. However, the other forms can. Does anyone here know by what method a vampire can be healed?"
Hermione's hand shot high in the air. Blodsucan seemed to ignore her. "Anyone?"
Hermione seemed to jump out of her chair.
"Mister Longbottom," (Neville paled) "would you know by what means a cursed one may be transformed back to a full-fledged human?"
Neville gulped. "I- I believe, Professor, that- that a vampire can be turned back to a human being needs to fine... to find the Bloodstone, sir."
Professor Blodsucan's black eyes seemed to glitter, pleased. He rubbed his beak-nose. "Very, very good, Mister Longbottom. The Bloodstone is a crimson-red disk which constantly drips a blood-like liquid. It certainly lives up to its name." No one laughed. "Is there anything someone would like to add?" He acknowledged Hermione's flapping hand.
"The liquid dripped by the Bloodstone can only be contained by a crystal goblet so rare that only the head of all vampires has the substance." Then, she added, just to sound more scholarly, "No one knows who or where the head of vampires lives, but there have been rumored sightings in Transylvania, Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia, the Sahara Desert, and less than one hundred years ago, London. Sightings are followed by-"
"Thank you, Miss Granger, for teaching my class." A few students snickered. "Back to the paper. I want a well-developed essay on the existence of the vampire, and the legend of the Bloodstone. Where is it found, how is it contained, who does it heal. First day you return. If you have vampires in your family, they should be very helpful. But watch your necks." He grinned, and laughed tightly.
"Those of you who will be remaining at Hogwarts for the vacation, see me after class, and I will give you permission to use the restricted section of the library. You may not take these books out, so if you are returning to your homes, you're on your own. Class dismissed."
Draco was extremely pleased to leave the class. Rushing, he had left behind Crabbe and Goyle. When he turned to see where they were, he couldn't find them. He did, though, see Lisha.
"So," he said coolly, almost nastily, "You're parents don't want you home for the vacation, I'm sure. Will you be staying at school, or has St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies agreed to bring you in?"
Lisha continued walking, but her eyes grew dark. "No. But they did send an owl. I believe their prat was missing"
"Oh, that hurt, sincerely." He held his hand over his heart. "Why must you torment me so?"
"I live to see the rich, arrogant and handsome squirm beneath my grasp, Malfoy. It especially pleases me to see you anguished and seething." She had stopped walking. "I hate seeing how you treat people. I hate seeing you thrive on the discomfort of other people. I hate you, Draco Malfoy."
Watching Lisha storm off to Charms left Draco with mixed emotions. He realized at fourteen he shouldn't have to worry about trivial things like having an enemy, but merely two months from age fifteen, things like "love," "lust," and all of the things teenagers look forward to would be coming into effect.
What could he do, though? It seemed Lisha already had fallen for Professor Snape (the thought of them together made Draco feel nauseous). He noticed that Lisha stayed after class every day with Snape, and she missed the first trip to Hogsmeade because he suggested she come see him instead. Draco didn't like the fact that his competition was his favorite teacher, but there was no way he could confront either of them about it. What if he was wrong about the two of them?
"Collect yourself, Dracs," he told himself. "Concentrate. Father has an entire library centered around the dark arts. So at least you won't have to worry about staying here for the break. Oh great, where am I?"
Draco had taken a wrong turn somewhere. He glanced around, and
realized this was a hallway he had never seen in his
three-and-something months at Hogwarts. He had read in Hogwarts,
A History that Hogwarts was known to changed paths often,
making anyone unfamiliar with the building lose their way easily.
Once, a Hufflepuff boy was lost for three months before he
realized he had been walking around in circles. Strange things
certainly did take place here! Fortunately for Draco, losing his
way had been a recent endeavor, so it was only a few seconds
until he was back on trail to Charms.
***
"You must be kidding me!" Azrael, Draco's eagle owl, hooted and flew back to the owlery, trying to get away from his annoyed owner. Apparently, the message he had delivered along with Draco's daily sweets was not good work. Because an owl in the magic world is only satisfied if their owners, deliverers or recipients were content, Azrael felt he had fail in his duty, and rather than fly off with the other owls, he remained at the table until he was dismissed.
Draco fumed and shoved his letter in the poor owls face. "'Important guests for important business,' they say! 'Best if you stay at Hogwarts for the vacation' they say! No good parents, who do they think they are? Do they want me to rot in this school? I have never, in my entire life, spent Christmas away from Malfoy Manor. Who wrote this, Azrael? Was it Mother? Or Father? Tell me, you no good pigeon!"
Azrael had obviously taken enough abuse. He snapped his beak right on Draco's pointy nose, and flew back to the owlery.
Rubbing his face, Draco jumped up. "Goyle, you've got a spare Howler somewhere?" Goyle simply stared at him. Apparently, there was a hint of animosity in their friendship still. "Fine then. Crabbe?"
"Yep, got some on my last trip to Hogsmeade."
"How much do you want for one?"
Crabbe considered. "Two galleons, and five sickles."
"Are you nuts! Howlers aren't that expensive! I'll give you one galleon, plus this sack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Deal?" The bag of Bertie Bott's was being clutched by Draco's long, pallid fingers. His knuckles, pale as they were, became white around the knuckles, holding tightly to the cloth in anticipation.
"Deal." Crabbed greedily snatched the Every Flavor Beans first. He pulled at the blue strings and dug his hand in the bag. The first bean he pulled out was a disgusting green color. Disgusted, he handed that particular one to Draco.
"Are you kidding? I'm not even going to consider trying that one." He slyly looked two seats to his left. "Luralby, you try this one." He reached over and dropped it on her dish.
Lisha didn't even look at him, but picked up the jellybean to examine it. Draco sat on the edge of his seat to see her expression when she put it in her mouth.
"Mmhm," she mumbled as she chewed. "Mint."
"Damn. Well, the least you can say is thank you."
Finally, Lisha looked at Draco. "I was not kidding before, Malfoy, when I told you I despised you. If you're looking for an acceptance of an apology, you will not find it with me."
Frustrated, Draco stood and walked away from the table. He hadn't even realized what he had done until he saw that he was already on his way down to his next class, Potions. Fifteen minutes early. Rather, he headed towards the Slytherin tower. "Pure-blood," he muttered when he reached the secret passage, and stepped through as the wall moved away from him.
Draco found the red envelopes easily. Crabbe wasn't too bright, as all of his secret items were stored in the same place, year after year. Five Howlers waited patiently for some ticked-off person to be screamed at, then relay the message through Owl Post. Draco picked the top envelope up, and peered inside.
There was nothing inside. Draco dug into his robe pocket and emerged with his wand. As if he knew what he was doing, he pointed the wand inside the empty envelope and muttered, "Magna vox." Then he breathed in deeply.
"How could you do this to me! You can't leave me in this godforsaken school while everyone else will be headed home! Do you really want me stuck at Hogwarts with stupid whits like Harry Potter and the Weasley kids? What were you thinking?! I'm getting on that train whether you want me to or not! Pick me up at Platform 9 ¾ on time, or there will be hell to pay! I will never forgive either of you if you are not there!"
Draco's rant went on for a bit longer. He knew very well it was unnecessary for him to yell into the envelope, as the Howler would magnify his voice tenfold. This should surely make his parents think twice before making him stay at school with the students whose parents wanted nothing to do with them until the summer.
That is, unless his letter was intercepted and someone found out a minor had used a spell that was supposed to be operated only by parents, guardians, and elder family members. He wasn't even supposed to know there was a magna vox charm!
At any rate, he sent the letter via a very relieved Azrael, who realized he hadn't failed in his duties to his owner. He even nipped Draco lovingly, who, disgusted, swatted at his owl and left the owlery.
A bell-like sound signaled the beginning of the next class.
"Oh, no, late!" Professor Snape wouldn't be too lenient with Draco. He demonstrated that he no longer cared which students were in what house (as long as it wasn't Gryffindor, which he still mercilessly subtracted points from), unless the name of the student was Lisha Luralby.
"Wait a moment," he said aloud. "Missing one class for the whole year can't be too detrimental to my grades." He remembered several times a week when Lisha failed to show up for class. None of the teachers ever bothered her about it!
It would have been a good idea for him to begin research for his assignment in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Draco's best bet was to see Professor Blodsucan as soon as possible, for it seemed no matter how often or how loud he blazed at his parents, they would never allow him to come home over the vacation.
"Professor?" Draco knocked on the heavy wooden door to Blodsucan's office. It creaked open. "Professor, are you here?"
"Who is there?" The Professor's voice seemed muffled and far away. "Mister Malfoy?" Automatically, the voice seemed to be right on the other side of the half-opened door. "Is that you?"
"Yessir," Draco answered. "I was wondering if I could have a pass to use the restricted section of the library?" He pushed the door open. "I was misinformed by my parents and it turns out I will be spending the holidays here at school."
"Don't come any further in, please," Blodsucan's voice commanded. "Otherwise you will never find your way out again."
This was no exaggeration. The office was a mess. How could a teacher barely around for four months destroy it so quickly? Perhaps it was only clutter, as Blodsucan's papers were all neatly filed in what Draco recognized as a Muggle file cabinet. It must have been bewitched to organize papers alphabetically by itself. The Professor's desk as well was very neat. Draco noticed a golden quill pen, a crystal vile filled with deep red liquid, another half-filled with a teal-green watery substance and several books stacked upon each other according to size.
"Don't touch that!" Draco had begun to trace his finger on an intricately designed goblet when the Professor had stopped him.
"A disaster area, I know." Blodsucan sighed. "I am currently working on organizing all these items, most of which, like that one, are very rare and expensive. This," and he motioned to a five-foot statue carved from wood, "was made from the willow tree on which Marivlo the Trickster was hanged five hundred years ago. That rug you are standing on led Calath to her bedchamber the night before her execution. She was accused of being a witch." He smiled when he watched Draco jump off the black velvety carpet. "She was foolish enough to tell her husband, a typical Muggle Reverend, she was a member of the magic folk. The Muggles of that time were very ignorant, don't you agree?"
Draco smirked. "With all-do respect, Professor, Muggles still are ignorant to the magic world."
"Spoken like a true-blooded wizard, Draco."
The first-name basis made Draco feel a bit uncomfortable, but he simply shrugged it off.
"A-anyway, sir, I just came by to ask if you would be so gracious as to give me the permission to-"
"Of course, of course." Blodsucan licked his red lips, stepped over to his table and snatched the vile with the teal liquid. He sipped, placed it down, and turned back to Draco. "Just a moment." Blodsucan took his golden quill and began to write the permission slip on an aged piece of parchment. "There you go. One ticket to the restricted section of the library."
"Thank you, sir." Draco took the paper and turned towards the door. As his did, Professor Blodsucan grabbed his arm.
"Make good use of your time in the section of the library, Mister Malfoy." His hard, black eyes gleamed. "Take advantage of the situation. I suggest you read up on how to conjure, dispel and destroy dark forces. I see a great power in you, Draco. Don't waste it."
Draco was suddenly reminded of Harry Potter's Invisibility Cloak hidden under his mattress back in the Slytherin tower. Now that everyone was in class, it was the best time to return it.
