Author's note: Well. This chapter revolves around Draco and his thoughts
and all. But please don't mind if you see more of Ginny, Harry, and Ron.
blah blah. I'm hoping to spice the story up by adding more characters. And
oh yes! This may just become a Ginny/Tom Riddle ship as well. So. keep
checking back here for updates! Especially for those who love the forbidden
pairs. I.e., Ginny/Tom Riddle and Hermione/Draco ships. Don't you just love
bad boys + good girls?!
Summary of this chapter: Draco gets injured by an unknown beast. Wanna know why? Read on to find out! =)
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An alarmed Professor Vector immediately rushed to the back of the class, where Malfoy had collapsed. She had to yell at several other students who had already gathered at the back of the class, surrounding the limp body of Malfoy, to get out of her way.
Hermione had stood up, tip toeing trying to look over the crowd, half wishing that she could go and take a look at Malfoy, half dreading what she would see if she was there.
"Ms Granger." Professor Vector said sharply, "As you are a prefect, I would like you to bring him to the hospital wing. Immediately. I will go and contact the headmaster. Please hurry. Mr. Malfoy is quite badly injured."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. The words echoed in her mind. "Mr. Malfoy is quite badly injured." He was badly injured.
She took quick and agile steps to where Professor Vector was kneeling. A Slytherin girl who was standing by his side, hovering over Malfoy and looking quite worried shot Hermione a dirty look as she walked past her. Hermione made a mental note, that this girl probably was another of Malfoy's fans.
Hermione then stepped over Malfoy's arm. She gasped at the sight that was before her. He was even more badly injured than she had expected. From where she was sitting, she could only see the top half of his body. And he just looked scratched up. Now that he was right before her eyes, she could see how badly hurt he really was.
Malfoy's face was deathly pale now. There were several scratches on his face and on his arms. But what was most alarming was the blood that blossoming from his waist onto his robes. It looked like someone or something had attacked him.
In all her years at Hogwarts, Hermione had always disliked Malfoy. After all that he had done to the three of them, namely Harry, Ron and herself, who could blame her for disliking him? However, she had never wanted him hurt. What more with the recent developments between the two of them? Or at least the developments of the strange feelings she had for him. It was like a nightmare come true.
She heaved Malfoy up, careful not to exert any pressure on his wounds. She requested for another person to help her, for she was not strong enough to carry a wounded Malfoy all the way to the hospital wing on her own.
The Slytherin girl that had given her a dirty look when she walked past was shooting daggers at her with her eyes now. A clear message came across, "Keep your hands off Draco."
Hermione would have burst out laughing if the situation wasn't so tense. Another Slytherin boy had volunteered to help Malfoy to the hospital wing. The journey there wasn't a very pleasant one.
People were staring as they saw an injured Malfoy clinging to Hermione. The Slytherin boy was keeping silent the whole journey long. But Hermione was less than bothered about them. She was keeping quiet, her thoughts in a flurry. She couldn't really think straight. All she could think about was whether Malfoy was going to be alright.
When they got to the hospital wing, and informed Madame Pomfrey about what happened, they were told to leave the hospital wing so that Madame Pomfrey could get about her work without any hindrance.
Hermione wanted very much to stay at the hospital wing, by Malfoy's side to make sure that he was going to be all right. However, she thought better of it, as she didn't want to look like she cared for Malfoy. Well, at least not in front of another Slytherin boy.
By the time they left the wing, arithmancy was already over and the next lesson had started. It was transfiguration with Professor Mcgonagall.
Hermione hurried to her class, and explained to the professor the reason why she was late. Harry and Ron were both equally interested in why she was late as well. Hermione briefly explained to them as well.
Much to Hermione's annoyance, their faces had lit up in delight when they heard the bad news, or in their case, the "good news".
"Well, if you think it's so funny that Malfoy got attacked by an unknown creature, than why not you go get yourselves injured and see if it's funny." Hermione said, fuming.
"Chill Hermione. It is just Malfoy. I mean, the creature must be smart or something! Fancy picking Malfoy to pounce on. Woohoo!" Ron replied.
"Haha. Really Ron. I'd think of it as an accident. I mean, who would wanna touch Malfoy anyway? Not even an animal I expect!" Harry said, looking quite excited for the first time in months, perhaps because he felt that Malfoy was finally what he deserved.
"Well, many Slytherin girls and probably half the student population of girls in the school want to touch him." Hermione muttered, under her breath, looking quite cross.
"What did you say Herms?" "Nothing Ron, nothing." Hermione replied.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Ms Granger, Would you like to take over my lesson instead?" A stern voice filled the air.
Hermione went a deep red in her cheeks. "I'm sorry Professor."
Professor Mcgonagall frowned in disapproval, turning back to her desk to demonstrate to the class how to change a goblet into a ferret.
At hearing the "ferret" bit, all three of them sniggered. Back in their fourth year, Professor Moody, or at least the fake Professor Moody had changed Malfoy into a bouncing ferret. The memory of this was still fresh in their minds, and it was really amusing to think back upon it.
However, as Hermione sniggered, her thoughts were brought back to Malfoy. She immediately felt guilty for laughing at him while he was in such a serious condition, lying unconscious on the bed in the hospital wing. She couldn't figure how he could have gotten so seriously injured, besides the speculation that an unknown creature had attacked him. And the idea of that was scary.
If a dangerous creature were prowling along the corridors of Hogwarts, then many more people would be at danger.
Hermione was lost in her own thoughts for the rest of the day, sitting around in a daze, which was not a common sight for Hermione. And that said something about Hermione's mood.
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He was running. Feeling very carefree. It was a very much younger version of him. He was probably about 4 or 5 years old. He was laughing. No it wasn't the smirk that he was so infamous for. It was pure innocent laughter.
Suddenly, he turned into a slightly older Draco. He was 11 years old now. He stretched out a hand to Potter, wanting so bad to be his friend. But Potter had ignored his act of friendliness.
Now he was still running, this time, not running freely, but with a sense of urgency. He was running away from it. He didn't have any idea what it was. He just knew that he was in grave danger and had to run. He knew that Father had always kept it, but he never expected Father to send it after him.
Suddenly, he tripped over a broken tile. His face got scratched. It started to bleed. His hands were bleeding from several abrasions as well. But he didn't care. He knew that the fate of being attacked by it was far more horrifying than getting a couple of cuts on his face and arms. It meant that it would be fatal.
It crept behind him. Gasping for breath, he turned around.
He screamed.
"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.!" Draco screamed, in a piercing high-pitched tone.
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He opened his eyes, expecting to see the thing hovering over him. Instead, he saw a pair of blue eyes that never seemed to stop twinkling. However, despite the endless dancing twinkles in his eyes, there was a twinge of worry and concern in his eyes.
Draco recognised it. It was Professor Dumbledore. Their headmaster.
Draco coughed, and tried to sit up. As he struggled to move, he felt a sharp pain piercing through his side. He turned to examine his injuries.
'Not as bad as I thought it'd be.' He thought ominously.
"Now now, Mr. Malfoy, I came as soon as I was informed of this unfortunate mishap. Are you okay now? Don't move around too much. Your waist has been punctured. But you'll be fine. Professor Snape is busy brewing the Skin Repairo Potion for you. Normally Madame Pomfrey would be able to heal afflicted skin in a jiffy, but I'm afraid your injury is a little different, thus, you would have to wait a while longer, for your injuries to heal." Professor Dumbledore, in a kind tone.
There was a minute of silence between the two.
"Now Mr. Malfoy, would you like to tell me how you got injured? Or rather, what got you injured so bad?" Dumbledore asked, now, a more serious expression replacing the concerned one. The twinkle in his eyes were gone now as well.
Draco placed an incomprehensible expression on his face. He recalled very well what had happened earlier that day.
He had recently received a letter from home. Apparently, his Father's imprisonment in Azkaban hadn't changed his perspective on being a deatheater at all. He still wanted Draco to follow in his footsteps and be a deatheater. He had somehow instructed Narcissa Malfoy to send Draco a letter, informing him of Voldemort's 'great' plans for him to become a deatheater.
Obviously, Draco violently objected to that. He didn't want to commit the rest of his life to killing people, namely mudbloods, and all those that stood in Voldemort's way. Sure, he enjoyed teasing and taunting mudbloods like Granger, but he certainly didn't want to have a hand in killing them.
Though Draco often portrayed himself as a mean, arrogant person that only seemed to be interested in the dark arts, and that he'd despise any sign of good magic, he never was interested in killing people, especially if it meant having to kill mudbloods. His first instinct when he read the letter from home, was to refuse for he knew the first one he would have to harm, was Granger.
He had no idea why he felt so protective over her. It just came naturally to him. He had managed to convince himself that it was just perfectly gentleman nature for one to protect a friend. Well, an almost friend. After all, she was his arithmancy partner. And though they were constantly bickering, he felt that they had a special connection, and that they had a special bond between them.
He could never bring himself to harm Granger. It seemed like a completely foreign idea that was totally ridiculous.
"Mr. Malfoy? You seem deep in thought. Would you like to tell me what happened?" Dumbledore probed gently.
"No Professor Dumbledore. It's my own family business. You ought to understand yes?" Draco replied in a slow drawl.
He wasn't prepared to share with the headmaster, whom he wasn't exactly very fond of due to influence from his father, that his very own father had sent a beast to attack him for rejecting Voldemort's offer of being a deatheater.
It was too personal. And it probably would send Hogwarts into an uproar as well. It was hard to imagine how cold hearted Lucius Malfoy could be. Draco personally was taken aback, though somewhat not surprised still.
Lucius always had been extremely strict on Draco since he was of a mature enough age to understand about the dark arts. The only time in his childhood when Draco had enjoyed himself was when he was a toddler, till he was about 5 years old. On his sixth birthday, Lucius Malfoy had taken Draco under his wings, and taught him all he could comprehend at that age about the dark arts. That explained Draco's vast knowledge in the dark arts.
But for Lucius to set a beast on his very own son was the last straw. Draco hadn't seen that coming. The worst punishment that Lucius had ever given to Draco was when Granger beat Draco in their first year, for their exams. Draco had performed exceptionally as well. However, his son being second to a mudblood was something that Lucius Malfoy couldn't tolerate.
Draco was locked in a cupboard that could only be opened by a charm, from the outside. He was locked in the cupboard, deprived of food, water and the bathroom, for 3 whole days. In the cupboard, he was given a little tiny space that was just big enough for him to pen a quill. He was made to write lines, non-stop for the three days. The memory was still fresh in his mind. 'I will not lose to a mudblood again.' Lucius was finally satisfied with his punishment after 3 days, and finally released Draco from his little prison. That was one of the reasons why Draco bore such a deep grudge against Granger. But now. his heart had somewhat softened towards her.
"Very well then Mr. Malfoy. I will leave you here in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey should be able to heal you once the potion comes. Please have a good rest, and Mr. Malfoy, should your father try to force you to be a deatheater again, I suggest you come to me, I might be able to help." Dumbledore said, watching Draco with a knowing eye.
'How the heck did he know that anyway?' Draco thought to himself. 'Maybe the old fogey isn't as dumb as I thought he was.'
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Dumbledore fingered his beard thoughtfully as he made his way out of the hospital wing. Judging from Draco's response, his theory about Lucius Malfoy trying to intimidate Draco into becoming a deatheater was true.
Dumbledore was worried. He knew that Lucius had strongly believed that Draco would definitely follow in his footsteps in becoming a deatheater. But he hadn't expected Lucius to react in such a way when Draco refused to become one.
He smiled, despite the darkness of the events that had occurred. He was greatly affirmed that Draco Malfoy had rejected the offer of turning into a deatheater. He always knew that Draco had some good in him, despite the tough exterior he always put up. However, he suddenly became acutely aware of great danger that Draco was in.
It was apparent that Lucius was determined in changing Draco's mind. If Draco still decided to go against Lucius' wishes, he knew that Draco would be in mortal danger. The plot was already being shown.
Judging from the puncture marks in Draco's waist, he had deduced that the beast that had attacked Draco was none other than the family beast, Bazira. It was a serpent of special abilities.
Its impeccable intelligence had probably led it to Hogwarts through its pipes, and its radar-like senses had detected Draco when Draco was on his way to arithmancy class. It then gave chase, and when it finally managed to trap Draco, it bit him at the waist.
However, it spared Draco's life. It didn't allow its fatal venom to enter Draco's bloodstream. It just pierced its razor sharp fangs shallowly at his side. It never was meant to kill him anyway. It was just given instructions to injure him slightly, or at least fatal enough to scare him, but not fatal enough to kill him.
Dumbledore sighed, feeling greatly troubled. This was going to be tricky. He had to protect Draco Malfoy from his own father, Lucius Malfoy.
"Professor Dumbledore!" A resonant voice called.
"Ahh. Ms Granger. I expect you are here to visit Mr. Malfoy?"
Hermione's cheeks flushed. "Yes Sir. I was the one who was told to bring him here to the hospital wing just now. So I was wondering how he was, considering the fact that he seemed rather badly injured."
Dumbledore smiled inwardly. This was going to be a very interesting year.
"Well, Ms Granger, you'd be pleased to know that Mr. Malfoy has woken up. If you would like to, you could visit him, tell Madame Pomfrey that you've got permission from me." Dumbledore said kindly.
"Thank you Sir." Hermione said, still blushing furiously.
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"Malfoy.?" A gentle voice said.
The voice was somewhat familiar. But he couldn't quite pinpoint whom it belonged to. Draco looked up.
A girl with fluffy brown curls, and hazelnut brown eyes came scurrying over to his bed. Hermione Granger. A certain warmth filled Draco's heart, even as he felt it leap a little.
But he kept his face straight, displaying no emotion.
"Granger." He said, with a nod, acknowledging her presence.
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Summary of this chapter: Draco gets injured by an unknown beast. Wanna know why? Read on to find out! =)
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An alarmed Professor Vector immediately rushed to the back of the class, where Malfoy had collapsed. She had to yell at several other students who had already gathered at the back of the class, surrounding the limp body of Malfoy, to get out of her way.
Hermione had stood up, tip toeing trying to look over the crowd, half wishing that she could go and take a look at Malfoy, half dreading what she would see if she was there.
"Ms Granger." Professor Vector said sharply, "As you are a prefect, I would like you to bring him to the hospital wing. Immediately. I will go and contact the headmaster. Please hurry. Mr. Malfoy is quite badly injured."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. The words echoed in her mind. "Mr. Malfoy is quite badly injured." He was badly injured.
She took quick and agile steps to where Professor Vector was kneeling. A Slytherin girl who was standing by his side, hovering over Malfoy and looking quite worried shot Hermione a dirty look as she walked past her. Hermione made a mental note, that this girl probably was another of Malfoy's fans.
Hermione then stepped over Malfoy's arm. She gasped at the sight that was before her. He was even more badly injured than she had expected. From where she was sitting, she could only see the top half of his body. And he just looked scratched up. Now that he was right before her eyes, she could see how badly hurt he really was.
Malfoy's face was deathly pale now. There were several scratches on his face and on his arms. But what was most alarming was the blood that blossoming from his waist onto his robes. It looked like someone or something had attacked him.
In all her years at Hogwarts, Hermione had always disliked Malfoy. After all that he had done to the three of them, namely Harry, Ron and herself, who could blame her for disliking him? However, she had never wanted him hurt. What more with the recent developments between the two of them? Or at least the developments of the strange feelings she had for him. It was like a nightmare come true.
She heaved Malfoy up, careful not to exert any pressure on his wounds. She requested for another person to help her, for she was not strong enough to carry a wounded Malfoy all the way to the hospital wing on her own.
The Slytherin girl that had given her a dirty look when she walked past was shooting daggers at her with her eyes now. A clear message came across, "Keep your hands off Draco."
Hermione would have burst out laughing if the situation wasn't so tense. Another Slytherin boy had volunteered to help Malfoy to the hospital wing. The journey there wasn't a very pleasant one.
People were staring as they saw an injured Malfoy clinging to Hermione. The Slytherin boy was keeping silent the whole journey long. But Hermione was less than bothered about them. She was keeping quiet, her thoughts in a flurry. She couldn't really think straight. All she could think about was whether Malfoy was going to be alright.
When they got to the hospital wing, and informed Madame Pomfrey about what happened, they were told to leave the hospital wing so that Madame Pomfrey could get about her work without any hindrance.
Hermione wanted very much to stay at the hospital wing, by Malfoy's side to make sure that he was going to be all right. However, she thought better of it, as she didn't want to look like she cared for Malfoy. Well, at least not in front of another Slytherin boy.
By the time they left the wing, arithmancy was already over and the next lesson had started. It was transfiguration with Professor Mcgonagall.
Hermione hurried to her class, and explained to the professor the reason why she was late. Harry and Ron were both equally interested in why she was late as well. Hermione briefly explained to them as well.
Much to Hermione's annoyance, their faces had lit up in delight when they heard the bad news, or in their case, the "good news".
"Well, if you think it's so funny that Malfoy got attacked by an unknown creature, than why not you go get yourselves injured and see if it's funny." Hermione said, fuming.
"Chill Hermione. It is just Malfoy. I mean, the creature must be smart or something! Fancy picking Malfoy to pounce on. Woohoo!" Ron replied.
"Haha. Really Ron. I'd think of it as an accident. I mean, who would wanna touch Malfoy anyway? Not even an animal I expect!" Harry said, looking quite excited for the first time in months, perhaps because he felt that Malfoy was finally what he deserved.
"Well, many Slytherin girls and probably half the student population of girls in the school want to touch him." Hermione muttered, under her breath, looking quite cross.
"What did you say Herms?" "Nothing Ron, nothing." Hermione replied.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Ms Granger, Would you like to take over my lesson instead?" A stern voice filled the air.
Hermione went a deep red in her cheeks. "I'm sorry Professor."
Professor Mcgonagall frowned in disapproval, turning back to her desk to demonstrate to the class how to change a goblet into a ferret.
At hearing the "ferret" bit, all three of them sniggered. Back in their fourth year, Professor Moody, or at least the fake Professor Moody had changed Malfoy into a bouncing ferret. The memory of this was still fresh in their minds, and it was really amusing to think back upon it.
However, as Hermione sniggered, her thoughts were brought back to Malfoy. She immediately felt guilty for laughing at him while he was in such a serious condition, lying unconscious on the bed in the hospital wing. She couldn't figure how he could have gotten so seriously injured, besides the speculation that an unknown creature had attacked him. And the idea of that was scary.
If a dangerous creature were prowling along the corridors of Hogwarts, then many more people would be at danger.
Hermione was lost in her own thoughts for the rest of the day, sitting around in a daze, which was not a common sight for Hermione. And that said something about Hermione's mood.
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He was running. Feeling very carefree. It was a very much younger version of him. He was probably about 4 or 5 years old. He was laughing. No it wasn't the smirk that he was so infamous for. It was pure innocent laughter.
Suddenly, he turned into a slightly older Draco. He was 11 years old now. He stretched out a hand to Potter, wanting so bad to be his friend. But Potter had ignored his act of friendliness.
Now he was still running, this time, not running freely, but with a sense of urgency. He was running away from it. He didn't have any idea what it was. He just knew that he was in grave danger and had to run. He knew that Father had always kept it, but he never expected Father to send it after him.
Suddenly, he tripped over a broken tile. His face got scratched. It started to bleed. His hands were bleeding from several abrasions as well. But he didn't care. He knew that the fate of being attacked by it was far more horrifying than getting a couple of cuts on his face and arms. It meant that it would be fatal.
It crept behind him. Gasping for breath, he turned around.
He screamed.
"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.!" Draco screamed, in a piercing high-pitched tone.
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He opened his eyes, expecting to see the thing hovering over him. Instead, he saw a pair of blue eyes that never seemed to stop twinkling. However, despite the endless dancing twinkles in his eyes, there was a twinge of worry and concern in his eyes.
Draco recognised it. It was Professor Dumbledore. Their headmaster.
Draco coughed, and tried to sit up. As he struggled to move, he felt a sharp pain piercing through his side. He turned to examine his injuries.
'Not as bad as I thought it'd be.' He thought ominously.
"Now now, Mr. Malfoy, I came as soon as I was informed of this unfortunate mishap. Are you okay now? Don't move around too much. Your waist has been punctured. But you'll be fine. Professor Snape is busy brewing the Skin Repairo Potion for you. Normally Madame Pomfrey would be able to heal afflicted skin in a jiffy, but I'm afraid your injury is a little different, thus, you would have to wait a while longer, for your injuries to heal." Professor Dumbledore, in a kind tone.
There was a minute of silence between the two.
"Now Mr. Malfoy, would you like to tell me how you got injured? Or rather, what got you injured so bad?" Dumbledore asked, now, a more serious expression replacing the concerned one. The twinkle in his eyes were gone now as well.
Draco placed an incomprehensible expression on his face. He recalled very well what had happened earlier that day.
He had recently received a letter from home. Apparently, his Father's imprisonment in Azkaban hadn't changed his perspective on being a deatheater at all. He still wanted Draco to follow in his footsteps and be a deatheater. He had somehow instructed Narcissa Malfoy to send Draco a letter, informing him of Voldemort's 'great' plans for him to become a deatheater.
Obviously, Draco violently objected to that. He didn't want to commit the rest of his life to killing people, namely mudbloods, and all those that stood in Voldemort's way. Sure, he enjoyed teasing and taunting mudbloods like Granger, but he certainly didn't want to have a hand in killing them.
Though Draco often portrayed himself as a mean, arrogant person that only seemed to be interested in the dark arts, and that he'd despise any sign of good magic, he never was interested in killing people, especially if it meant having to kill mudbloods. His first instinct when he read the letter from home, was to refuse for he knew the first one he would have to harm, was Granger.
He had no idea why he felt so protective over her. It just came naturally to him. He had managed to convince himself that it was just perfectly gentleman nature for one to protect a friend. Well, an almost friend. After all, she was his arithmancy partner. And though they were constantly bickering, he felt that they had a special connection, and that they had a special bond between them.
He could never bring himself to harm Granger. It seemed like a completely foreign idea that was totally ridiculous.
"Mr. Malfoy? You seem deep in thought. Would you like to tell me what happened?" Dumbledore probed gently.
"No Professor Dumbledore. It's my own family business. You ought to understand yes?" Draco replied in a slow drawl.
He wasn't prepared to share with the headmaster, whom he wasn't exactly very fond of due to influence from his father, that his very own father had sent a beast to attack him for rejecting Voldemort's offer of being a deatheater.
It was too personal. And it probably would send Hogwarts into an uproar as well. It was hard to imagine how cold hearted Lucius Malfoy could be. Draco personally was taken aback, though somewhat not surprised still.
Lucius always had been extremely strict on Draco since he was of a mature enough age to understand about the dark arts. The only time in his childhood when Draco had enjoyed himself was when he was a toddler, till he was about 5 years old. On his sixth birthday, Lucius Malfoy had taken Draco under his wings, and taught him all he could comprehend at that age about the dark arts. That explained Draco's vast knowledge in the dark arts.
But for Lucius to set a beast on his very own son was the last straw. Draco hadn't seen that coming. The worst punishment that Lucius had ever given to Draco was when Granger beat Draco in their first year, for their exams. Draco had performed exceptionally as well. However, his son being second to a mudblood was something that Lucius Malfoy couldn't tolerate.
Draco was locked in a cupboard that could only be opened by a charm, from the outside. He was locked in the cupboard, deprived of food, water and the bathroom, for 3 whole days. In the cupboard, he was given a little tiny space that was just big enough for him to pen a quill. He was made to write lines, non-stop for the three days. The memory was still fresh in his mind. 'I will not lose to a mudblood again.' Lucius was finally satisfied with his punishment after 3 days, and finally released Draco from his little prison. That was one of the reasons why Draco bore such a deep grudge against Granger. But now. his heart had somewhat softened towards her.
"Very well then Mr. Malfoy. I will leave you here in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey should be able to heal you once the potion comes. Please have a good rest, and Mr. Malfoy, should your father try to force you to be a deatheater again, I suggest you come to me, I might be able to help." Dumbledore said, watching Draco with a knowing eye.
'How the heck did he know that anyway?' Draco thought to himself. 'Maybe the old fogey isn't as dumb as I thought he was.'
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Dumbledore fingered his beard thoughtfully as he made his way out of the hospital wing. Judging from Draco's response, his theory about Lucius Malfoy trying to intimidate Draco into becoming a deatheater was true.
Dumbledore was worried. He knew that Lucius had strongly believed that Draco would definitely follow in his footsteps in becoming a deatheater. But he hadn't expected Lucius to react in such a way when Draco refused to become one.
He smiled, despite the darkness of the events that had occurred. He was greatly affirmed that Draco Malfoy had rejected the offer of turning into a deatheater. He always knew that Draco had some good in him, despite the tough exterior he always put up. However, he suddenly became acutely aware of great danger that Draco was in.
It was apparent that Lucius was determined in changing Draco's mind. If Draco still decided to go against Lucius' wishes, he knew that Draco would be in mortal danger. The plot was already being shown.
Judging from the puncture marks in Draco's waist, he had deduced that the beast that had attacked Draco was none other than the family beast, Bazira. It was a serpent of special abilities.
Its impeccable intelligence had probably led it to Hogwarts through its pipes, and its radar-like senses had detected Draco when Draco was on his way to arithmancy class. It then gave chase, and when it finally managed to trap Draco, it bit him at the waist.
However, it spared Draco's life. It didn't allow its fatal venom to enter Draco's bloodstream. It just pierced its razor sharp fangs shallowly at his side. It never was meant to kill him anyway. It was just given instructions to injure him slightly, or at least fatal enough to scare him, but not fatal enough to kill him.
Dumbledore sighed, feeling greatly troubled. This was going to be tricky. He had to protect Draco Malfoy from his own father, Lucius Malfoy.
"Professor Dumbledore!" A resonant voice called.
"Ahh. Ms Granger. I expect you are here to visit Mr. Malfoy?"
Hermione's cheeks flushed. "Yes Sir. I was the one who was told to bring him here to the hospital wing just now. So I was wondering how he was, considering the fact that he seemed rather badly injured."
Dumbledore smiled inwardly. This was going to be a very interesting year.
"Well, Ms Granger, you'd be pleased to know that Mr. Malfoy has woken up. If you would like to, you could visit him, tell Madame Pomfrey that you've got permission from me." Dumbledore said kindly.
"Thank you Sir." Hermione said, still blushing furiously.
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"Malfoy.?" A gentle voice said.
The voice was somewhat familiar. But he couldn't quite pinpoint whom it belonged to. Draco looked up.
A girl with fluffy brown curls, and hazelnut brown eyes came scurrying over to his bed. Hermione Granger. A certain warmth filled Draco's heart, even as he felt it leap a little.
But he kept his face straight, displaying no emotion.
"Granger." He said, with a nod, acknowledging her presence.
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