Fog
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or anything related. And I make no money off of this. =(
Snape's owl flew for an hour, knowing instinctively where this Draco Malfoy was. In a small town not so far off from Hogwarts, the owl perched on a branch and contented itself with watching the figure below stumble around.
The pale boy collapsed near a brook and desperately drank the dingy water. Draco heaved himself up and tried to walk, then leaned on one tree. He spotted another tree, and heaved himself towards it. It had been several days without food, and Draco's knees trembled with each step. He lifted his head, looking above the trees. The clouds were dark gray and the air was humid. A storm was coming. Dejected, he let his head drop and stared straight ahead. Within his vision were little shops and houses. His stomach had stopped registering pain, but he had a head-splitting headache from a lack of food. Draco fingered his pocket and found parchment, lint and a Knut. What in the world could I buy with a Knut? Poor, wet, muddy and starving, Draco unthinkingly trudged towards the village. Nearly dragging himself to a bakery, he slowly touched the door. Through a glass pane he could see the soft loaves of bread. The crevice of the door allowed for a sweet, plain fragrance that smelt better than all feasts his father had ever hosted. Father ...
He pushed open the door and plodded in. There were a few other customers browsing the selections of the more refined bread. Gritting his teeth, Draco faced the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper was a burly old man; his eyes were close together and shrewd; he had seen his share of beggars.
Draco pulled out his Knut and pushed it onto the counter, "I'd like to buy some bread, sir."
The old man eyes shifted to the Knut, then to Draco, then to the Knut, then to Draco again, "I ain't have nothing for one Knut, boy."
Draco dismally pulled out his parchment, "Will you take my parchment, sir?"
"Oi! Shoo, boy. I 'avn't got a use for no parchment. Off with yer now."
The overwhelming scent of bread and pastries was too much for Draco, "But sir!"
Irritated by the beggar boy, the shopkeeper stepped out from behind the counter and pushed Draco out of the shop, "Don't be bothering the missus inside. Go away." Weakened, Draco collapsed on the doorstep just as the door slammed behind him. (with a last "Now shoo!") Devastated and humiliated, Draco painfully pushed himself up and trekked back to the sanctity of the outlying forest. As if complimenting his mood, the clouds darkened and a drizzle fell.
He sat under a tree, but rain still continued to plop on his face and robes. I wonder if years from now, people will find my body and say, "Hey, that's the skeleton of the Malfoy kid who kissed a teacher and got disowned." The rain came down harder, pounding the trees and mercilessly splashed his body. The dirt below him turned to mud, and soon, Draco felt like he was sitting in a swamp. Draco sniffed the air. It had a murky, grimy stench to it. By now the water was simply pouring, and Draco resigned himself to sitting in a mud hole for the night. Professor. Where are you? Draco sank deeper into himself. Was all this worth it?
Suddenly, Draco felt the urge to look around. He lifted his head and saw a brown owl. Hoot hoot. His hair was drenched and his robes clung to his body. What? Oh... just an owl, I suppose. I had thought it was – no, it couldn't be. Shrugging it off, he tried to go back to sleep.
"Draco." That voice's familiarity was unmistakable.
Draco's eyes flashed open and jerked up. Rainwater washed over, clouded and stung his eyes. He could make out a tall figure. Distressed and incredulous, he rubbed eyes to clear his vision. His eyes still hurt, but the sight before made him forget everything. Draco dashed forward and hugged his father. In one hand, Lucius clutched an umbrella, and in another, pressed Draco's soaked body towards himself.
"Come on Draco. Lets go home."
And so off went the pair. On a tree above, watching everything, perched an owl. Hoot hoot.
A few weeks later, a dragon flew through the boundless morning sky, pulling a carriage. The dragon panted and heaved, pulling heavily on the carriage. Inside the carriage was a boy, now fully dressed in fine velvet, looking out a window. Through the windowpane, Draco peered out and watched the sea of clouds whisk by. Growing bored by the monotonous view, he looked beside himself to see Lucius offering Professor McGonagall a barf bag. A slight green tint colored her face. Draco felt a bit nauseous himself. He fingered his new furry Durmstrang cloak and watched Lucius making polite conversation with Professor McGonagall.
"I must thank you again for recommending Draco to Durmstrang."
McGonagall half-smiled and held the barf bag close at hand, "I could not bear with the idea of him never attending school again." Her body shook, but luckily Minerva recovered without any food coming out of her mouth. She spoke while she adjusted her hat that had toppled off during her spasm, "I hope Draco will accept Hogwart's invitation next September."
"Perhaps, if certain people controlled their lust," was the answer.
The next few minutes passed in silence. Then, the carriage slowed down and descended rapidly, much to Minerva's disapproval. Draco watched her face turn a bit greener.
Lucius pointed his cane toward the window, "There we are. Durmstrang."
Draco looked, but saw nothing but a white fog, being completely encompassed by clouds. Suddenly the view darkened. A black stone castle with a maroon roof came into view. Flags showing the Durmstrang symbol flew proudly. Draco studied the intricate woven fabrics of the flag, when suddenly a brown fuzzy sphere came and started attacking the flag. Alarmed, he squinted. Then he saw it clearly: it was a brown owl, tearing the flag off the staff. What? Before he could get a closer look, the flags went out of sight and the carriage landed. As the dragon settled, the earth rumbled and shook the carriage. Professor McGonagall shoved Draco out of the way before she kicked open the door and tumbled out. On her hands and knees, she finally threw up and littered the ground with an orange, bumpy, acidic substance.
Lucius climbed out of the vehicle and helped Minerva up. He lugged the Transfiguration up, and a few seconds her body stabilized somewhat. Minerva gasped and felt awful, but she was steady again. Lucius was still holding her; his hands were softly caressing her side. Minerva blushed and squirmed and quickly looked for a diversion, "Oh look – here comes our Durmstrang tour guide!"
Lucius held her for a moment longer before releasing her. He motioned to Draco and called, "Come on."
The tour guide led them across the gardens, mentioning the winter ivy, the frozen lake and the moss-covered rocks, "Up here it's bloody cold. Sometimes in the morning, you just don't want to get outta bed at all." By now, the quarto had reached the main hallway and stopped at the base of a wide, winding staircase with a silver handle that sloped gently toward the ceiling.
The tour guide's voice interrupted the silence, "Sorry to keep you waiting here, sir. There's supposed to be a girl here to show your son on to his room, but," he looked around the deserted hallway, "But she isn't here."
Lucius looked disinterested, "Is she forever and perpetually late?"
"Yer, but she was the only one who volunteered to wake up on this Saturday morning." the tour guide leaned closer, "She's got a killer beautiful body, and her face is pretty good too."
McGonagall looked displeased, "I trust you do not base a student's merit on beauty alone, sir."
"Nah, but she's like a portrait. Perfect." Clearly, the stolid stares of Lucius and Minerva said they didn't think she was so perfect. A topic change was necessary.
"Well, Draco, that's your name, is it? Want to see where you'll be living till June? Your room is down that hallway, to the right, by the picture of the gray horses eating hay. Room number 127, I believe? I'll be talking with your Da about the transfer student policies."
Draco scampered off. After he was out of earshot, Lucius leaned in closer to Minerva and whispered, "Follow him and see that he stays out of trouble." After deeming a safe time lapse had passed, McGonagall followed the direction Draco had taken.
Draco walked down the hallway, listening to the echoing sound of his footsteps. He spotted the picture of the gray horses eating hay. Aha! Right next to the picture was a red door and the number 127. Draco pushed and turned the knob, but the door remained closed. Locked. A sigh escaped from his lips.
A high voice came from behind him, "You'll need a password to open it. Its written in here," Draco turned to view a girl with flowing curls. She handed him an envelope, "Its charmed so that only you can open it. Sorry I was late this morning. I think the tour guide ranted about me. I was supposed to be the assistant tour guide, remember?"
"Right. Thanks." Draco paused and looked at the girl. As silly as the tour guide was, he got one thing right. She was beautiful. Draco smiled looking at the soft curls that bounced off her head.
"I would charm it so that you don't need a password to open. Most people don't use the passwords; they're really inconvenient." The curls tumbled as she shook her head in a nonchalant manner.
Draco replied that he would uncharm it straight away, "Do you want to take a look around my room?"
The girl nodded, once again bouncing those curls, and followed him.
Hiding behind a suit of armor not ten feet from the two, McGonagall let go a breath she had held and sneakily strode back to Lucius.
tbc