As he reached the top of the stairs, he ran straight into Draco who was on
his way down.
"Draco, I. . ."
"Nec plura his" said Draco, allowing a glimmer of a smile into his grey eyes. Harry looked confused, but Draco didn't elaborate, instead beckoning him to follow him down to the Common Room. Harry complied, and Draco smirked as they crossed the richly furnished room. He reached a slender, pale hand behind a cushion and drew something out. Harry moved closer cautiously to look at it. It was an orb, silver in colour, with a shimmering glow. It was cool, very cool to the touch, but if you squinted then a liquid purple centre could be seen.
"What is it?"
Draco smirked again and tapped his nose.
"That's for my father to know and us to find out. Going to help?"
Harry grinned.
"Try and stop me!"
****************************************************
Lucius allowed a small gleam to come into his eye as he watched the boys admire the ball. It was, indeed, a fine present, and hopefully enough to pacify his son, who was obviously displeased that his father was keeping secrets from him.
The orb was a rare one, and quite possibly classed as Dark Magic, which is why Lucius had given his son strict instructions to keep it hidden. Unfortunately, his idea of 'hidden' seemed to clash with Draco's, and he had winced seeing it placed behind a cushion in the Common Room. Even more unfortunately, he was unable to tell Draco to move it, because that would completely spoil the fun of spying on Draco until he - or Harry - figured it out. Already they had broken the cardinal sin of unknown objects, and had touched it. Honestly! What was Dumbledore playing at? It could have been cursed or poisoned, it could have been a Portkey, and the stupid boys had their grubby hands all over it already.
Just when he was about to give up on his son ever using his brain, Lucius noticed Harry shaking his head as they went to put it back, and gesturing. He couldn't make out what they were saying; the orb was not a good quality spying-ball, and the boys were whispering, but the ball was turned over, and all Lucius could see was the floor. He moved closer, but to no avail. Wondering whether there was any chance of the two moving his to somewhere more comfortable, he leaned back in his plush chair, steepled his fingers, and waited, his cool face hidden behind a sheet of icy-blond hair.
*******************************************************
Draco rolled his eyes. If this was a test from his father, and he had no doubt that it was, then it was not going well. Harry was right; he had picked a pathetic hiding place. And Potter had touched the orb, which was one of the most stupid things to do with an unknown object. It could have been cursed, or poisoned - hell, it could even have been a Portkey!
But the most pressing concern now was to find a secret place. Harry was leaning heavily against the wall.
"Harry?"
"Ssh!" hissed the other boy. "I think I've found something!"
"What?"
"It's a hollow of some sort. I think. . ."
Draco never did get to find what Harry thought as the other boy sucked his breath in sharply and snatched his hand back. he was facing away from Draco, but long years of living in a large house had given Draco a head- start on careful listening, and he could hear Harry cursing.
"What is it?"
"Nothing" said Harry, a little too quickly, not turning. Draco frowned and moved forwards but Harry spun away from him.
"Draco, it's nothing. But that's not a good place to use."
"Why?"
"Because" he replied shortly, well aware that he sounded petulant and childish. He didn't care. Draco, apparently, did. He grabbed Harry's shoulders hard, and spun him around, simultaneously catching sight of his hand.
"Fuck!" he exclaimed, grasping the wrist. "What did that?"
Harry couldn't answer - his mouth felt suddenly dry, and the world spun around him. As everything dissolved into whiteness, he could hear Draco calling out to him, but couldn't reply.
****************************************************
Severus had been asleep. It had been a nice sleep too, free of irritating Gryffindors and worrying Slytherins who he wanted to help but couldn't. Or at least, it had been a nice sleep until one of the aforementioned Slytherins had come banging on his door. Checking the time (1.30am) he felt a crisis coming. Nobody except the suicidal or those in a crisis would dare disturb him at this time. And surely being suicidal implied a crisis?
Growling, he opened the door, and his face instantly relaxed when he saw Draco. Of all the Slytherins, Draco was a favourite. His friendship with Lucius had remained strong over the course of the years, and Draco was a very well brought-up young man. He was also one of the few people who seemed to hold any respect for Severus.
However his sympathy for the boy was suspended when Draco, clutching at his side, gasped out that Harry was in the Hospital Wing (again!) and that it was serious, and that Severus was needed immediately with all the anti- venom potions he possessed.
Stirring himself into action, Severus threw on a robe over his nightshirt and allowed his hands to drift above the potions as he mentally calculated which ones would be needed. Finally, hands full of potions, he cast a levitation spell on them and hurried up to the infirmary. The first thing he saw was Dumbledore looking pale and wan. Draco was trembling, and Pomfrey crying. Fearing the worst, Severus nearly dropped the potions until Pomfrey moved aside, and he saw Harry writhing on the bed in agony. They had been forced to strap him down, but even now he nearly broke the restraints. He foamed at the mouth, and every so often would let out an awful shriek, opening his eyes to display bloodshot whites and unfocussed pupils.
For almost half an hour, Severus tipped potion after potions down his throat. It was a snake bite, they knew that, and had been obtained in the Common Room, but when Draco touched the same piece of wall that Harry had investigated, there was no sign of a hidden niche. Severus didn't think Draco had been lying, or even wrong, but without the knowledge of which snake they were dealing with there was no way of knowing which potion to use. The only consolation was that if it had been a very venomous snake, Harry would be dead by now.
After all the potions had been utilised to no effect, all Severus could do was restrain Harry and send Draco back to bed with the reassurance that Harry would be alright, and if Draco could be of any help then Severus would call him. Draco didn't look as though he believed the older man, but he nodded and at least left the infirmary. Immediately Severus dropped the calm expression, and ran a hand through his hair.
"Albus, Poppy, have you any ideas?"
The witch and wizard both shook their heads, looking both confused and worried. Pomfrey would sporadically take Harry's temperature and shake her head, tutting, but other than that they sat in silence, wincing collectively every time a fresh wave of pain assaulted Harry.
In the morning, Severus was the first to wake up. Angry - no, furious - that he could have fallen asleep when Harry was so ill, he immediately got up to hear the sound of retching from the bathroom. Stretching out his stiff limbs, he hurried through and caught Harry just as he seemed to be falling backwards. He arched an eyebrow wryly and supported Harry as the boy threw up again, before asking,
"How do you feel?"
It was, admittedly, a stupid question, but he hadn't expected Harry to leap away from him as though on fire. Confused, and irrationally hurt, he released the boy.
"Harry?"
"Harry shook his head.
"Mustn't cry" he whimpered. "All hate me. Even warmth hates me."
Severus blinked and then understood. He was 'warmth' - Harry had once said so.
"Harry, I don't hate you. Not at all. Come on. . .you must be cold."
He touched Harry's hand, feeling it's iciness, and practically lifted his charge.
"Good lord, do you eat?"
Harry didn't reply, and Severus found it easier to imagine that he was just asleep. At any rate, Harry seemed to be out of mortal danger.
For the time being.
5 points to anyone who can get the meaning of 'nec plura his', another 20 on top of that if you can tell me which book it comes from, and the author. Oh go on, I'll make it a really good prize. Hmm *considers* your choice of Harry, Sev or Draco in the material of your choice, and I will send you the first half of my new angsty-Harry story which I haven't yet posted.
"Draco, I. . ."
"Nec plura his" said Draco, allowing a glimmer of a smile into his grey eyes. Harry looked confused, but Draco didn't elaborate, instead beckoning him to follow him down to the Common Room. Harry complied, and Draco smirked as they crossed the richly furnished room. He reached a slender, pale hand behind a cushion and drew something out. Harry moved closer cautiously to look at it. It was an orb, silver in colour, with a shimmering glow. It was cool, very cool to the touch, but if you squinted then a liquid purple centre could be seen.
"What is it?"
Draco smirked again and tapped his nose.
"That's for my father to know and us to find out. Going to help?"
Harry grinned.
"Try and stop me!"
****************************************************
Lucius allowed a small gleam to come into his eye as he watched the boys admire the ball. It was, indeed, a fine present, and hopefully enough to pacify his son, who was obviously displeased that his father was keeping secrets from him.
The orb was a rare one, and quite possibly classed as Dark Magic, which is why Lucius had given his son strict instructions to keep it hidden. Unfortunately, his idea of 'hidden' seemed to clash with Draco's, and he had winced seeing it placed behind a cushion in the Common Room. Even more unfortunately, he was unable to tell Draco to move it, because that would completely spoil the fun of spying on Draco until he - or Harry - figured it out. Already they had broken the cardinal sin of unknown objects, and had touched it. Honestly! What was Dumbledore playing at? It could have been cursed or poisoned, it could have been a Portkey, and the stupid boys had their grubby hands all over it already.
Just when he was about to give up on his son ever using his brain, Lucius noticed Harry shaking his head as they went to put it back, and gesturing. He couldn't make out what they were saying; the orb was not a good quality spying-ball, and the boys were whispering, but the ball was turned over, and all Lucius could see was the floor. He moved closer, but to no avail. Wondering whether there was any chance of the two moving his to somewhere more comfortable, he leaned back in his plush chair, steepled his fingers, and waited, his cool face hidden behind a sheet of icy-blond hair.
*******************************************************
Draco rolled his eyes. If this was a test from his father, and he had no doubt that it was, then it was not going well. Harry was right; he had picked a pathetic hiding place. And Potter had touched the orb, which was one of the most stupid things to do with an unknown object. It could have been cursed, or poisoned - hell, it could even have been a Portkey!
But the most pressing concern now was to find a secret place. Harry was leaning heavily against the wall.
"Harry?"
"Ssh!" hissed the other boy. "I think I've found something!"
"What?"
"It's a hollow of some sort. I think. . ."
Draco never did get to find what Harry thought as the other boy sucked his breath in sharply and snatched his hand back. he was facing away from Draco, but long years of living in a large house had given Draco a head- start on careful listening, and he could hear Harry cursing.
"What is it?"
"Nothing" said Harry, a little too quickly, not turning. Draco frowned and moved forwards but Harry spun away from him.
"Draco, it's nothing. But that's not a good place to use."
"Why?"
"Because" he replied shortly, well aware that he sounded petulant and childish. He didn't care. Draco, apparently, did. He grabbed Harry's shoulders hard, and spun him around, simultaneously catching sight of his hand.
"Fuck!" he exclaimed, grasping the wrist. "What did that?"
Harry couldn't answer - his mouth felt suddenly dry, and the world spun around him. As everything dissolved into whiteness, he could hear Draco calling out to him, but couldn't reply.
****************************************************
Severus had been asleep. It had been a nice sleep too, free of irritating Gryffindors and worrying Slytherins who he wanted to help but couldn't. Or at least, it had been a nice sleep until one of the aforementioned Slytherins had come banging on his door. Checking the time (1.30am) he felt a crisis coming. Nobody except the suicidal or those in a crisis would dare disturb him at this time. And surely being suicidal implied a crisis?
Growling, he opened the door, and his face instantly relaxed when he saw Draco. Of all the Slytherins, Draco was a favourite. His friendship with Lucius had remained strong over the course of the years, and Draco was a very well brought-up young man. He was also one of the few people who seemed to hold any respect for Severus.
However his sympathy for the boy was suspended when Draco, clutching at his side, gasped out that Harry was in the Hospital Wing (again!) and that it was serious, and that Severus was needed immediately with all the anti- venom potions he possessed.
Stirring himself into action, Severus threw on a robe over his nightshirt and allowed his hands to drift above the potions as he mentally calculated which ones would be needed. Finally, hands full of potions, he cast a levitation spell on them and hurried up to the infirmary. The first thing he saw was Dumbledore looking pale and wan. Draco was trembling, and Pomfrey crying. Fearing the worst, Severus nearly dropped the potions until Pomfrey moved aside, and he saw Harry writhing on the bed in agony. They had been forced to strap him down, but even now he nearly broke the restraints. He foamed at the mouth, and every so often would let out an awful shriek, opening his eyes to display bloodshot whites and unfocussed pupils.
For almost half an hour, Severus tipped potion after potions down his throat. It was a snake bite, they knew that, and had been obtained in the Common Room, but when Draco touched the same piece of wall that Harry had investigated, there was no sign of a hidden niche. Severus didn't think Draco had been lying, or even wrong, but without the knowledge of which snake they were dealing with there was no way of knowing which potion to use. The only consolation was that if it had been a very venomous snake, Harry would be dead by now.
After all the potions had been utilised to no effect, all Severus could do was restrain Harry and send Draco back to bed with the reassurance that Harry would be alright, and if Draco could be of any help then Severus would call him. Draco didn't look as though he believed the older man, but he nodded and at least left the infirmary. Immediately Severus dropped the calm expression, and ran a hand through his hair.
"Albus, Poppy, have you any ideas?"
The witch and wizard both shook their heads, looking both confused and worried. Pomfrey would sporadically take Harry's temperature and shake her head, tutting, but other than that they sat in silence, wincing collectively every time a fresh wave of pain assaulted Harry.
In the morning, Severus was the first to wake up. Angry - no, furious - that he could have fallen asleep when Harry was so ill, he immediately got up to hear the sound of retching from the bathroom. Stretching out his stiff limbs, he hurried through and caught Harry just as he seemed to be falling backwards. He arched an eyebrow wryly and supported Harry as the boy threw up again, before asking,
"How do you feel?"
It was, admittedly, a stupid question, but he hadn't expected Harry to leap away from him as though on fire. Confused, and irrationally hurt, he released the boy.
"Harry?"
"Harry shook his head.
"Mustn't cry" he whimpered. "All hate me. Even warmth hates me."
Severus blinked and then understood. He was 'warmth' - Harry had once said so.
"Harry, I don't hate you. Not at all. Come on. . .you must be cold."
He touched Harry's hand, feeling it's iciness, and practically lifted his charge.
"Good lord, do you eat?"
Harry didn't reply, and Severus found it easier to imagine that he was just asleep. At any rate, Harry seemed to be out of mortal danger.
For the time being.
5 points to anyone who can get the meaning of 'nec plura his', another 20 on top of that if you can tell me which book it comes from, and the author. Oh go on, I'll make it a really good prize. Hmm *considers* your choice of Harry, Sev or Draco in the material of your choice, and I will send you the first half of my new angsty-Harry story which I haven't yet posted.
