A/N: Here we go again. I don't own the characters. I don't own the books. Or the movies. I own nothing... and I'm sure that by now you're sick of hearing about my jeans...

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Sacrifices

Part Five - Out of the Boiling Pot and Into the Fire

Severus Snape couldn't concentrate. His eyes repeatedly read the same paragraph over and over, only to realise after he'd finished that he hadn't absorbed a single word. His mind kept wandering to the previous lesson. How had Draco Malfoy managed to mess up such a simple potion? And to such a degree? If he had simply sprouted whiskers, he wouldn't have been concerned. Suprised, yes. Disappointed? Naturally. But to grow a complete set of rabbit ears? He would have had to have added at least five times the directed amount, and that was a conservative estimate. He ran a hand through his hair and slumped his shoulders. He was perplexed. Shaking the thoughts from his head, he opened his top drawer, removed a stack of paper amd began preparing for his next class.

..........

"Here. Drink this. Rabbit ears, of all the things..." Madam Pomfrey muttered, fluttering about Draco's bed. Draco took the medicine glass she held out to him and looked at it with reluctance. It looked simply awful. Brown in colour, bubbling and popping, with bits of green gunk floating on the top. Pomfrey stood before him, hands on hips as if daring him to challenge her. He took one look at the determination in her eyes and decided (grudgingly) that perhaps it would be easier if he just swallowed the vile mixture. He held it up to his lips and prepared himself for its assault. And so he was pleasantly suprised when the liquid that met his lips was refreshingly cool, sweet, and genuinely delicious. He finished swallowing the contents of the glass and was slightly disappointed when there was none left. Pomfrey eyed him, straight-faced, but with a hint of satisfaction in her eyes.

"Not as awful as it looked, was it?" she asked

"No" admitted Draco.

"Perhaps you should remember that lesson, Master Malfoy" she said, looking at him sternly, while pulling down the covers on a nearby bed. "Not everything is at it seems from the outside"

Malfoy was nonplussed. He'd just been humiliated in front of his entire class, and they were undoubtedly informing the whole school. Not to mention that he'd managed to look like an absolute fool in front of Professor Snape. The last thing he wanted, or needed for that matter, he told himself, was to be lectured. Madam Pomfrey didn't say anything more until she had finished with the bed. She then poured another glass of the disgusting-looking-yet-beautiful-tasting liquid. He eyed it, his mouth suddenly coming alive again in anticipation of the sweet taste. She glanced at him and shook her head.

"You'll be staying here for the night, Malfoy, and depending on how you are in the morning, possibly tomorrow as well. Don't drink this till tonight. Just before ten. I'll come and remind you in case you forget. Don't drink it before then, mind. If you have too much you could just make it worse."

Malfoy nodded obediently. The prospect of spending the night in the hospital wing didn't particularly appeal to him, but when you considered the alternative: Having to go out and face the embaressment, watch the satisfaction on the Gryffindor's faces (not to mention Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff who would be laughing about it probably at this very moment) and face up to Professor Snape's disgusted glare (and he was suprised to find that this seemed to be the worst of the lot) ...it all seemed too much for him tonight. So all in all, he was rather relieved that he would be spending the night here, safely away from the snickers and accusing glances. Besides, he was feeling increasingly sleepy, and that bed was looking more and more appealing. He stifled a yawn unsuccessfully and Madam Pomfrey's stern expression softened.

"Feeling sleepy? Yes, sometimes this potion can have that effect. I'll ask your head teacher to bring you down some comfortable bedwear and anything you might need. You're a Slytherin, yes?"

Malfoy nodded meekly. The prospect of seeing Professor Snape was incredibly daunting. How would he explain messing up such a simple potion? Madam Pomfrey looked him over once more nodded to herself, obviously satisfied, before turning and walking briskly out the door. Malfoy sighed. This was just bloody brilliant. Out of the boiling pot and into the fire.

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Just a quickie (ignore the innuendo) cos I'm really tired and I'm about to go sleep it's 5:30 AM and I haven't been to sleep yet. :sighs:. I've got the next few chapters mapped out in my mind. Snape will, indeed, become more suspicious, but that's all I'll say about that. Also, this fic is gonna be long. What I've got so far is barely an introduction. I've got this idea for a grand climax to the story. An image and a scene, and I'm gradually steering this torwards that. But it's a long, long way off. Rather daunting actually, but I can't help thinking big. Oh, and sorry about the cliches "between a rock and a hard place, out of the boiling pot into the fire..." if you know me you'd know that using overly worn cliches is part of my twisted sense of humour. I like stupidifying myself, sometimes.