Dark Temptations
A/N: Alrighty then, here's to a new chapter that finally came around the stupid road block! Really sorry about the delay, but technology disagrees with me. ~_~ Still don't know why. . . oh well! I hope you're ready for this chapter, because it's going to be. . . the chapter after the last. I don't know.
But I would also like to thank everyone else who's reviewed, I'm just not saying anything because I don't know what to say. . . wait. Yeah I do.
SO SORRY AND THANK YOU!!!!
And S.E., could you please write back? I'll explain some things later.
And now, without further to do, I bring to you Chapter. . . what chapter is this anyway?
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Chapter 6-Everquested Emeralds
Walking into the Great Hall seemed like an eternal trudge past stone bricks. The previous ache still thudded in the back of Harry's head, something that seemed like a conscious rhythm only he could hear. Well, he used to be the only to hear until some people had decided to just wander into his thoughts and see what's going on.
Draco still held Harry's hand, watching the boy move with an uncertainty next to him, his eyes not quite focused yet. "Harry?" Draco asked, giving his hand a squeeze and letting go, his reply a reassuring smile as they made their ways to their separate tables. No one was to know about the incident that had happened last night.
Harry hadn't paid any attention to the fact that Lolita was following him, her hands covering her eyes as if she were playing peek-a-boo. Moving towards the empty seats next to Ron, he first responded when she flopped down next to him, her hair concealing her face for a moment, then swaying back slightly.
He didn't see what everyone else saw, neither did he care as he was pouring them both pumpkin juice, then getting some poached eggs and crumpets spread with grape marmalade for himself, beginning to eat at a slow tempo, thinking still.
"Morning Harry," Ron said in an unsure tone, worry written all over his face.
Harry grunted his reply. He was thinking fast and hard, making his head pound even more.
"Um," Hermione seemed uncertain about what to say. Not wanting to offend him any further than what he already was, she searched for the simplest question she could think of. "Did you sleep well Harry?"
Harmless, plain, a question that made him choke on his crumpet, coughing up nothing but wind.
"Harry!" Ron panicked quickly and whacked Harry smartly on the back, once, twice.
He finally began spitting out some of the bread, a wild look in his eyes. He raised his head, searched, and found. He sat there, staring directly at Hermione, his expression growing from shock to anger, then blind fury.
"YOU!" he exclaimed, jumping out of his seat, not taking notice of her confused expression.
"Me?" Hermione asked, not understanding a single thing of what was going on. "Harry, what's wrong?" she tried reaching over the table to touch his arm.
"Stay away!" he moved back quickly, as if a snake were trying to strike him, he hissed at her. A hiss that seemed so cold and full of hate that Hermione froze in that instant.
She didn't move, hardly dared to breathe. Though she couldn't understand parsletounge, she figured what it meant. Easing back into her chair, she went back to eating as if nothing happened, allowing Harry to glower down upon her like a rainstorm, a rainstorm that would only bring ache.
Ron, who didn't understand a single thing that was going on, not even having said anything to the new girl, all he could do was be grateful that many students had already left before Harry could arrive. The few who remained, he took note of, were those that would keep to themselves mostly. "Harry mate," Ron began, "I think you seem a little confused. Why don't you just sit down and-"
Harry had never struck Ron, not even when he was being as disgusting or as dimwitted as possible. He knocked Ron's hand away, the hand that had helped him off the ground so many times, the hand that had defended him from stupid Slytherin gits. The hand of his best friend who could have been his brother.
"Harry that's enough," the strange girl said, her voice clear, commanding. "You are overreacting and you need to calm down. Now finish eating and show me to my class." She sipped some of her Pumpkin juice, grimaced, then stared around and looked directly into Ron's face, glancing sideways for a moment to make sure Harry had seated himself, though he wouldn't touch any more of his food.
He sat still for only a minute, felt Ron sit back down then got up himself. "Let's go," he said, turning his back on his friends, nearly knocking Neville over as he moved quickly past the school, not answering to any of the greetings some admirers threw his way.
Lolita only followed, feeling slightly sick at the emotions Harry was emitting, such confusion, hurt, and a clear demand. Something he desperately needed to get rid of. Then it clicked. He was trying to get rid of the feeling to accuse someone.
Her vision wavered until they entered a dark hallway. It was cool, moist, she could smell the dirt. The feeling to bury herself deep came over her for a moment, she wanted to be held by sweet healing earth. The dampness of life surrounding her, keeping her mind clear, Lolita only pictured that comforting feeling. She felt much better, then noticed that Harry did as well. There was something peaceful about him, she couldn't point it out, but it was wonderful.
Harry had been angry, his mind not functioning, just the picture of Hermione's injured expression always flashing through. 'Damnit!' he thought. 'There has to be a logical reason as to why I feel this way'. He let his feet be his guide, he couldn't think properly, not even checking to see if Lolita was still behind him as he raced past curious faces, smiling, pitiful, facade faces.
He finally came back to his senses when he smelled dirt, sweet, rich, comforting, calling to him. Harry had to move against the wall to hold on, the sensation to be under the surface was nearly too great for him to endure. He felt the comfort of someone else. Not Lolita, but silver eyes came to his mind as he tried to remember.
Draco had followed quickly, hiding within the shadows, not wanting to run into something important, a development of Harry's own strengths. He could feel a slight probe at his mind, but didn't brush it away as he noticed that it was coming from Harry.
He moved over in one swift motion, nearly causing no ripple in his clothes. Draco couldn't resist the longing Harry had to be held. He moved his arms around Harry before he had time to figure out what was happening, but he didn't pull away from the embrace. Very much, he leaned forward into Draco, taking in his scent, nuzzling his neck.
"Draco," he murmured before falling asleep against him.
Draco looked down at the top of Harry's head, then glanced over at Lolita, who's eyes flashed brightly, jaded. He stared, nodded, and moved away, carrying Harry to the Hospital Wing.
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Madame Pomfrey had been down in the Greenhouses with Professor Sprout, having just returned with a bag that contained Ginger, Wolfsbane and some Peppermint, a rarity stored in the very back and private section of the Greenhouses.
Moving over to arrange them, she nearly dropped all of her carefully gathered leaves, having not been prepared for a patient this early in the morning. "Mr. Malfoy! What allows you to come into-" She stopped short when she saw Harry's body in his arms.
"He had a black-out," was all Draco said to explain Harry's condition. He privately would have preferred to take Harry to his rooms, but he wouldn't have been able to explain his absence and why he was in his room. An awkward position he did not want to be in.
Madame Pomfrey moved over to one of the empty sickbeds, told Draco to place him there and wait for her to return. He gently placed Harry ontop of the sheets, then took a seat next to him after closing some of the shades. The morning sun was the most painful.
Moments later did she come back with Professor McGonagall, who had found out over a cup of tea about what was going on, not being permitted to tell Madame or any other faculty member about what was going on. "Yes, of course Poppy, yes I understand." The nurse had been muttering about how people these days resolved their problems. Just days ago they had been enemies, now, they were helping one another out as if they had done so for years.
"Mr. Malfoy", Madame Pomfrey spoke directly to him now, "if you could please explain as to why you are here and not typical Mr. Weasley or Ms. Granger".
Draco's expression of inattentive thoughtfulness changed into one of a slight frown. What they could not see, Professor McGonagall could certainly sense. It was a fury hardly suppressed by what Madame Pomfrey thought was the ignorance of the youth.
Before anything too hazardous could happen, McGonagall interrupted before he could start. "Since it seems that both of you will be absent from class, I suggest to get your homework from somebody. Or even better, go get them now."
"But-" Draco tried to argue.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy," her voice was firm, her eyes showed understanding, her mind would not change.
"Yes, ma'am," he muttered in defeat, got his bag and, with one last side glance towards Harry, he left the Hospital Wing, closing the door gently behind him.
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Lolita stood in the middle of Snape's class, taking in the looks, the smell of everybody in the room. Some odors she would have preferred not to have sensed, them making her nearly keel over with a weak stomach.
"Class, we need to put Ms. -what was it?" Snape asked in a slight irritated voice.
"Just call me Lolita, sir," she said, nodding her head slightly with a pleasant smile.
"Of course," he said, looking away uneasily, turning himself fully towards the class.
"Now," he tried to start again, "before we begin, who is willing to be Ms. Lolita's partner?"
The hands raised seemed to outnumber the students in the class, or maybe just the male population.
Professor Snape sighed, thinking 'What the heck!' and partnered her up with Neville.
"Hello," Lolita smiled her most radiant smile that even brought the strongest of wolves to their haunches.
Neville blushed a beautiful crimson, making Lolita shift slightly with the sudden urge to drink lightly if at all. "Hi," was all he managed, then he looked back down at his book, feeling the eyes of all the other guys on the room glaring at him.
"What's your name?" This was fun. She was enjoying herself immensly teasing this poor boy senseless. He was so innocent, so charming, so. . . sweet. And it wasn't as if Gregori and her truly were in love, but Draco never got the real invitation to his wedding, so it didn't matter very much.
He dared to look into her face, and gasped slightly but audibly.
She gave him a confused expression, delighting still in guessing their thoughts instead of picking them out single-handedly.
He bent slightly forward, so as not to be overheard. "Are you related to Harry?" he whispered as silent as possible.
Lolita looked at him for a moment, then put her radiant smile back in place. "Whatever gives you that idea?" she asked innocently.
Neville looked around, seeing if anybody was watching, which they were, but they took the scene in as a totally different manner. "Your eyes have that same spring-request in them as his do."
Her smile faded. She stared at him, speechless of what to say next. Can he look into my soul? She questioned herself, daring to probe his mind. She made a quick search, but possibly one that he could feel, for Neville started swaying slightly. She could find nothing but sadness for his parents, a great respect towards his grandmother, and a low, but very deep burning for revenge.
"Oh my," he said, tipping back and moving to sit in his chair before he could fall.
"Is everything all right?" she asked in a worried tone, though her suspicions about him were raised.
"I'm fine," he said, waving his hand in a dismissing gesture. "I think it was probably the snail- slime extract getting to me," he smiled weakly.
It was true, the odor of the pale green liquid could make a person nauseous if they caught a strong whiff of it. "Are you sure you'll be alri- "
She never did finish her sentence, because at that precise moment Draco stormed it, with a look of disarray about him. "Professor," he nodded, then quickly moved over to where she was standing.
"Mr. Malfoy, what is the meaning of this?" Snape thundered. "How dare you walk in here in the middle of class as a tardy and start distracting students?"
Draco gave him one look that told him enough, and Snape did nothing but stand there to fume in silence.
"What is wrong?" she looked him directly in the eyes. And also in that moment, more than half the class noticed them as well. The jaded shine of warm sunshine upon grass only held within a single pair of eyes they had known so far. And this discovery raised questions that they would need answered before the day was over.
"He might need some medicine," Draco chose his words carefully, not wanting to give away their true meaning if the hunter were truly among his fellow apprentices. 'He needs the soil, desperately,' he was nearly pleading with her.
She was technically the keeper of their homeland dirt, but they called it their riches. Without it, they surely wouldn't have a chance to avoid the crossover into Nosferatu. She looked at him a moment longer, then sighed her agreement, and they both excused themselves from the professor and left to Gryffindor tower.
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"What is wrong with him, Poppy?" McGonagall asked. This had been the second collapse in under a week that she knew of.
Madame shook her head, not understanding much herself. "It is very peculiar," she muttered, "I do not see how he can have such a strain on him. It seems unreasonable."
"What does?"
"Why is he so exhausted?" she did have true concern in her voice if not shown in her eyes, weary eyes that have seen and healed more than most have.
"What do you mean?" McGonagall didn't understand either what she was talking about.
"Look here, Minerva," Madame pointed at his scar.
"It seems," she couldn't explain it, but it seemed changed. Less edgy, slowly more. . . rounded.
"He is absolutely worn out and I do not see how that is possible. It's as if he hadn't slept in over three days and the last time a person stayed awake for fifteen nights straight, he ended up in his grave with an unfinished composition of music."
"Do you mean Mozart?" she asked with slight amazement.
"The very same. Did you know his 'Eine kleine Nachtmusik' was actually finished by one of his students because the fool died in the middle of it?"
"No. Really?"
"Yes, but that has nothing to do with him at the moment," Madame nodded towards Harry. "What is exactly the matter with him I cannot tell, but it also seems mentally or spiritually if not physically." She went to get some parchment and a quill and started taking more notes. "Body temperature, regular," she slightly opened his eyes, "Non-dilated pupils." Madame prodded him here and there for a bit more, her parchment writing everything down that she said, and McGonagall doing her best to keep up. She had never been very good in healing and taking notes.
"And you still haven't found anything too abnormal?" she asked again, rising to return to her class.
"If there are any too critical changes or discoveries, you will be the first to know," she assured her, going back over to finish tending to her herbs.
"Of course, and Poppy?" Minerva turned towards her one last time before taking her leave as well.
"Yes, Minerva?"
"Please take care of him." For a moment, Madame saw McGonagall as a grandmother who's grandson had just been injured and she was responsible for him until he was healed.
She smiled, a warm understanding smile. "Of course, Minerva. Now go back to class before your students wonder what happened," she shooed McGonagall out of her Wing and went back to Harry. She looked at him some more, muttering, "What happened to you, Harry?"
Being unable to reply, Harry just lay there sleeping, looking like the luckiest person you could find in this supposed hellhole.
With a heavy sigh, she turned away and left the boy who wouldn't have noticed if the sky decided to turn green, like poison.
It hadn't been long after Madame had gone, when Draco had moved to his bedside with a little bag, smelling fresh and rich, to see how his life was doing.
An unnoticed touch, an ignored gesture of affection, Harry slept on soundly, but having no specific dreams. Draco sat and stared in silence, only lunch having just begun.
He laid the little bag next to Harry's pillow, where he could clearly smell the fresh scent of the ground.
"What happened, Harry?" he asked, tears slowly forming in his eyes. They were silver, like when the moon reflected in Harry's glasses in the night.
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Lolita returned to class, watching as the others retreated out for their lunch. She was slightly afraid of it all, the sudden want to join and laugh with them, eat with them, with those who she would have normally feasted upon. 'Never play with your food,' her father had always told her, 'and don't become one.' Strange, that she should think of something like that at a moment such as this.
Snape hadn't expected anyone to stay and begin next lesson. The only one he would have thought so nerdy would have been Ms. Granger, yet she sat there, separating her arachnid legs from the typical centipede.
"Is there something wrong, Ms. Lolita?" he asked, his eyebrows raised for question.
She shook her head. "No sir."
"Then why do you not run along with the rest of them?"
Lolita was silent. Why should she answer to this insolent snuff? Even if she really wasn't wed locked, she still would not let someone else begin to push her around.
"Ms. Lolita?" Snape had never been refused an answer before. This was somewhat new. "Look at me when I am speaking to you!"
She did look up, and Snape recoiled in surprise. Pure green, cold, fierce, and certainly piercing. The same look from Lily he had received when he had insulted her after her help. A look of mercy, yet full of loathing.
"Yes, sir?" Lolita saw clearly.
He was weak.
He was weak and cold, afraid of anything and everything. But certainly not death. He would have loved it, welcomed it with open arms. He never had power, was always ridiculed by his peers, a pathetic excuse for a tough- bully Slytherin. And not even they supported him. They all laughed with the rest, always teased him, always taunted him, not once ever welcoming him. But he had a dog, something so small yet so brave. Snape had adored him, his only true friend in the world, until he had died in a fire that had started when he had left the oven on. There was no way to stop it, he was too afraid, of course he was lonely.
"Enough!" he thundered, not standing that gaze anymore. Once had been enough, he didn't need to relive the experience.
"I shall leave then, sir." She got up, moving slowly to the door, as if that itself were an amazing task.
"Ms. Lolita," he called as her hand touched the door.
"Yes sir?" Lolita didn't even bother to turn around, she smiled knowing what he would do.
At first it was an awkward silence, but he finally got his wits together. "Ten points to Gryffindor."
"Thank you, sir."
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"Mr. Malfoy!" Madame Pomfrey called as she saw him sleeping in his chair, his head resting on the bed.
"Draco?" Harry mumbled, his mind reeling although he was lying down.
Draco immediately reacted to the sound of Harry's voice. Hearing him take in a deep breath, he looked around, joy, fear, any kind of emotion mixed within him.
Lunch had long been over, but no one seemed to notice, let alone care. For Harry and Draco, it was only them in the room, the fretting Madame was a shadow in the back of their minds. But a barrier was in between them still, something that was impossible to break through, yet it seemed so fragile, easily penetrable.
Harry just smiled slightly, getting up to put on his shoes and get ready for whatever class he had this period. As if he felt like thinking about it.
A faint rain started to fall outside, bringing a misty look around the school, and it seemed to hide Harry from Draco.
"Harry!" he suddenly called out, realizing something for the first time. If he wasn't careful, the green of Harry's eyes would never show him the way back to his other half. Like the fog, something will take him far away, and cast him down into eternal darkness once again.
He held Harry's arm, held him tight and pulled him close, kissing him a promise in front of Madame. The promise to always protect his spring green and search for him when he vanishes. To never give up, and to never look back.
The soil spilt slightly, but it created a slight salvation. Draco would watch the snow melt from his life, and let a single daisy bloom.
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A/N: Remember the daisy! It's gonna be important later on. Well? How did you like it? More confusion? If so, then I'm really sorry. And I still haven't gotten around to re-write those chapters. I will try to get the next chapter up before New Years Eve, but I'm going to Egypt for a week, Cairo * YE-AH! * So it might be a while, but certainly not this long again. Promise!
Merry Christmas you guys!!!
A/N: Alrighty then, here's to a new chapter that finally came around the stupid road block! Really sorry about the delay, but technology disagrees with me. ~_~ Still don't know why. . . oh well! I hope you're ready for this chapter, because it's going to be. . . the chapter after the last. I don't know.
But I would also like to thank everyone else who's reviewed, I'm just not saying anything because I don't know what to say. . . wait. Yeah I do.
SO SORRY AND THANK YOU!!!!
And S.E., could you please write back? I'll explain some things later.
And now, without further to do, I bring to you Chapter. . . what chapter is this anyway?
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Chapter 6-Everquested Emeralds
Walking into the Great Hall seemed like an eternal trudge past stone bricks. The previous ache still thudded in the back of Harry's head, something that seemed like a conscious rhythm only he could hear. Well, he used to be the only to hear until some people had decided to just wander into his thoughts and see what's going on.
Draco still held Harry's hand, watching the boy move with an uncertainty next to him, his eyes not quite focused yet. "Harry?" Draco asked, giving his hand a squeeze and letting go, his reply a reassuring smile as they made their ways to their separate tables. No one was to know about the incident that had happened last night.
Harry hadn't paid any attention to the fact that Lolita was following him, her hands covering her eyes as if she were playing peek-a-boo. Moving towards the empty seats next to Ron, he first responded when she flopped down next to him, her hair concealing her face for a moment, then swaying back slightly.
He didn't see what everyone else saw, neither did he care as he was pouring them both pumpkin juice, then getting some poached eggs and crumpets spread with grape marmalade for himself, beginning to eat at a slow tempo, thinking still.
"Morning Harry," Ron said in an unsure tone, worry written all over his face.
Harry grunted his reply. He was thinking fast and hard, making his head pound even more.
"Um," Hermione seemed uncertain about what to say. Not wanting to offend him any further than what he already was, she searched for the simplest question she could think of. "Did you sleep well Harry?"
Harmless, plain, a question that made him choke on his crumpet, coughing up nothing but wind.
"Harry!" Ron panicked quickly and whacked Harry smartly on the back, once, twice.
He finally began spitting out some of the bread, a wild look in his eyes. He raised his head, searched, and found. He sat there, staring directly at Hermione, his expression growing from shock to anger, then blind fury.
"YOU!" he exclaimed, jumping out of his seat, not taking notice of her confused expression.
"Me?" Hermione asked, not understanding a single thing of what was going on. "Harry, what's wrong?" she tried reaching over the table to touch his arm.
"Stay away!" he moved back quickly, as if a snake were trying to strike him, he hissed at her. A hiss that seemed so cold and full of hate that Hermione froze in that instant.
She didn't move, hardly dared to breathe. Though she couldn't understand parsletounge, she figured what it meant. Easing back into her chair, she went back to eating as if nothing happened, allowing Harry to glower down upon her like a rainstorm, a rainstorm that would only bring ache.
Ron, who didn't understand a single thing that was going on, not even having said anything to the new girl, all he could do was be grateful that many students had already left before Harry could arrive. The few who remained, he took note of, were those that would keep to themselves mostly. "Harry mate," Ron began, "I think you seem a little confused. Why don't you just sit down and-"
Harry had never struck Ron, not even when he was being as disgusting or as dimwitted as possible. He knocked Ron's hand away, the hand that had helped him off the ground so many times, the hand that had defended him from stupid Slytherin gits. The hand of his best friend who could have been his brother.
"Harry that's enough," the strange girl said, her voice clear, commanding. "You are overreacting and you need to calm down. Now finish eating and show me to my class." She sipped some of her Pumpkin juice, grimaced, then stared around and looked directly into Ron's face, glancing sideways for a moment to make sure Harry had seated himself, though he wouldn't touch any more of his food.
He sat still for only a minute, felt Ron sit back down then got up himself. "Let's go," he said, turning his back on his friends, nearly knocking Neville over as he moved quickly past the school, not answering to any of the greetings some admirers threw his way.
Lolita only followed, feeling slightly sick at the emotions Harry was emitting, such confusion, hurt, and a clear demand. Something he desperately needed to get rid of. Then it clicked. He was trying to get rid of the feeling to accuse someone.
Her vision wavered until they entered a dark hallway. It was cool, moist, she could smell the dirt. The feeling to bury herself deep came over her for a moment, she wanted to be held by sweet healing earth. The dampness of life surrounding her, keeping her mind clear, Lolita only pictured that comforting feeling. She felt much better, then noticed that Harry did as well. There was something peaceful about him, she couldn't point it out, but it was wonderful.
Harry had been angry, his mind not functioning, just the picture of Hermione's injured expression always flashing through. 'Damnit!' he thought. 'There has to be a logical reason as to why I feel this way'. He let his feet be his guide, he couldn't think properly, not even checking to see if Lolita was still behind him as he raced past curious faces, smiling, pitiful, facade faces.
He finally came back to his senses when he smelled dirt, sweet, rich, comforting, calling to him. Harry had to move against the wall to hold on, the sensation to be under the surface was nearly too great for him to endure. He felt the comfort of someone else. Not Lolita, but silver eyes came to his mind as he tried to remember.
Draco had followed quickly, hiding within the shadows, not wanting to run into something important, a development of Harry's own strengths. He could feel a slight probe at his mind, but didn't brush it away as he noticed that it was coming from Harry.
He moved over in one swift motion, nearly causing no ripple in his clothes. Draco couldn't resist the longing Harry had to be held. He moved his arms around Harry before he had time to figure out what was happening, but he didn't pull away from the embrace. Very much, he leaned forward into Draco, taking in his scent, nuzzling his neck.
"Draco," he murmured before falling asleep against him.
Draco looked down at the top of Harry's head, then glanced over at Lolita, who's eyes flashed brightly, jaded. He stared, nodded, and moved away, carrying Harry to the Hospital Wing.
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Madame Pomfrey had been down in the Greenhouses with Professor Sprout, having just returned with a bag that contained Ginger, Wolfsbane and some Peppermint, a rarity stored in the very back and private section of the Greenhouses.
Moving over to arrange them, she nearly dropped all of her carefully gathered leaves, having not been prepared for a patient this early in the morning. "Mr. Malfoy! What allows you to come into-" She stopped short when she saw Harry's body in his arms.
"He had a black-out," was all Draco said to explain Harry's condition. He privately would have preferred to take Harry to his rooms, but he wouldn't have been able to explain his absence and why he was in his room. An awkward position he did not want to be in.
Madame Pomfrey moved over to one of the empty sickbeds, told Draco to place him there and wait for her to return. He gently placed Harry ontop of the sheets, then took a seat next to him after closing some of the shades. The morning sun was the most painful.
Moments later did she come back with Professor McGonagall, who had found out over a cup of tea about what was going on, not being permitted to tell Madame or any other faculty member about what was going on. "Yes, of course Poppy, yes I understand." The nurse had been muttering about how people these days resolved their problems. Just days ago they had been enemies, now, they were helping one another out as if they had done so for years.
"Mr. Malfoy", Madame Pomfrey spoke directly to him now, "if you could please explain as to why you are here and not typical Mr. Weasley or Ms. Granger".
Draco's expression of inattentive thoughtfulness changed into one of a slight frown. What they could not see, Professor McGonagall could certainly sense. It was a fury hardly suppressed by what Madame Pomfrey thought was the ignorance of the youth.
Before anything too hazardous could happen, McGonagall interrupted before he could start. "Since it seems that both of you will be absent from class, I suggest to get your homework from somebody. Or even better, go get them now."
"But-" Draco tried to argue.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy," her voice was firm, her eyes showed understanding, her mind would not change.
"Yes, ma'am," he muttered in defeat, got his bag and, with one last side glance towards Harry, he left the Hospital Wing, closing the door gently behind him.
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Lolita stood in the middle of Snape's class, taking in the looks, the smell of everybody in the room. Some odors she would have preferred not to have sensed, them making her nearly keel over with a weak stomach.
"Class, we need to put Ms. -what was it?" Snape asked in a slight irritated voice.
"Just call me Lolita, sir," she said, nodding her head slightly with a pleasant smile.
"Of course," he said, looking away uneasily, turning himself fully towards the class.
"Now," he tried to start again, "before we begin, who is willing to be Ms. Lolita's partner?"
The hands raised seemed to outnumber the students in the class, or maybe just the male population.
Professor Snape sighed, thinking 'What the heck!' and partnered her up with Neville.
"Hello," Lolita smiled her most radiant smile that even brought the strongest of wolves to their haunches.
Neville blushed a beautiful crimson, making Lolita shift slightly with the sudden urge to drink lightly if at all. "Hi," was all he managed, then he looked back down at his book, feeling the eyes of all the other guys on the room glaring at him.
"What's your name?" This was fun. She was enjoying herself immensly teasing this poor boy senseless. He was so innocent, so charming, so. . . sweet. And it wasn't as if Gregori and her truly were in love, but Draco never got the real invitation to his wedding, so it didn't matter very much.
He dared to look into her face, and gasped slightly but audibly.
She gave him a confused expression, delighting still in guessing their thoughts instead of picking them out single-handedly.
He bent slightly forward, so as not to be overheard. "Are you related to Harry?" he whispered as silent as possible.
Lolita looked at him for a moment, then put her radiant smile back in place. "Whatever gives you that idea?" she asked innocently.
Neville looked around, seeing if anybody was watching, which they were, but they took the scene in as a totally different manner. "Your eyes have that same spring-request in them as his do."
Her smile faded. She stared at him, speechless of what to say next. Can he look into my soul? She questioned herself, daring to probe his mind. She made a quick search, but possibly one that he could feel, for Neville started swaying slightly. She could find nothing but sadness for his parents, a great respect towards his grandmother, and a low, but very deep burning for revenge.
"Oh my," he said, tipping back and moving to sit in his chair before he could fall.
"Is everything all right?" she asked in a worried tone, though her suspicions about him were raised.
"I'm fine," he said, waving his hand in a dismissing gesture. "I think it was probably the snail- slime extract getting to me," he smiled weakly.
It was true, the odor of the pale green liquid could make a person nauseous if they caught a strong whiff of it. "Are you sure you'll be alri- "
She never did finish her sentence, because at that precise moment Draco stormed it, with a look of disarray about him. "Professor," he nodded, then quickly moved over to where she was standing.
"Mr. Malfoy, what is the meaning of this?" Snape thundered. "How dare you walk in here in the middle of class as a tardy and start distracting students?"
Draco gave him one look that told him enough, and Snape did nothing but stand there to fume in silence.
"What is wrong?" she looked him directly in the eyes. And also in that moment, more than half the class noticed them as well. The jaded shine of warm sunshine upon grass only held within a single pair of eyes they had known so far. And this discovery raised questions that they would need answered before the day was over.
"He might need some medicine," Draco chose his words carefully, not wanting to give away their true meaning if the hunter were truly among his fellow apprentices. 'He needs the soil, desperately,' he was nearly pleading with her.
She was technically the keeper of their homeland dirt, but they called it their riches. Without it, they surely wouldn't have a chance to avoid the crossover into Nosferatu. She looked at him a moment longer, then sighed her agreement, and they both excused themselves from the professor and left to Gryffindor tower.
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"What is wrong with him, Poppy?" McGonagall asked. This had been the second collapse in under a week that she knew of.
Madame shook her head, not understanding much herself. "It is very peculiar," she muttered, "I do not see how he can have such a strain on him. It seems unreasonable."
"What does?"
"Why is he so exhausted?" she did have true concern in her voice if not shown in her eyes, weary eyes that have seen and healed more than most have.
"What do you mean?" McGonagall didn't understand either what she was talking about.
"Look here, Minerva," Madame pointed at his scar.
"It seems," she couldn't explain it, but it seemed changed. Less edgy, slowly more. . . rounded.
"He is absolutely worn out and I do not see how that is possible. It's as if he hadn't slept in over three days and the last time a person stayed awake for fifteen nights straight, he ended up in his grave with an unfinished composition of music."
"Do you mean Mozart?" she asked with slight amazement.
"The very same. Did you know his 'Eine kleine Nachtmusik' was actually finished by one of his students because the fool died in the middle of it?"
"No. Really?"
"Yes, but that has nothing to do with him at the moment," Madame nodded towards Harry. "What is exactly the matter with him I cannot tell, but it also seems mentally or spiritually if not physically." She went to get some parchment and a quill and started taking more notes. "Body temperature, regular," she slightly opened his eyes, "Non-dilated pupils." Madame prodded him here and there for a bit more, her parchment writing everything down that she said, and McGonagall doing her best to keep up. She had never been very good in healing and taking notes.
"And you still haven't found anything too abnormal?" she asked again, rising to return to her class.
"If there are any too critical changes or discoveries, you will be the first to know," she assured her, going back over to finish tending to her herbs.
"Of course, and Poppy?" Minerva turned towards her one last time before taking her leave as well.
"Yes, Minerva?"
"Please take care of him." For a moment, Madame saw McGonagall as a grandmother who's grandson had just been injured and she was responsible for him until he was healed.
She smiled, a warm understanding smile. "Of course, Minerva. Now go back to class before your students wonder what happened," she shooed McGonagall out of her Wing and went back to Harry. She looked at him some more, muttering, "What happened to you, Harry?"
Being unable to reply, Harry just lay there sleeping, looking like the luckiest person you could find in this supposed hellhole.
With a heavy sigh, she turned away and left the boy who wouldn't have noticed if the sky decided to turn green, like poison.
It hadn't been long after Madame had gone, when Draco had moved to his bedside with a little bag, smelling fresh and rich, to see how his life was doing.
An unnoticed touch, an ignored gesture of affection, Harry slept on soundly, but having no specific dreams. Draco sat and stared in silence, only lunch having just begun.
He laid the little bag next to Harry's pillow, where he could clearly smell the fresh scent of the ground.
"What happened, Harry?" he asked, tears slowly forming in his eyes. They were silver, like when the moon reflected in Harry's glasses in the night.
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Lolita returned to class, watching as the others retreated out for their lunch. She was slightly afraid of it all, the sudden want to join and laugh with them, eat with them, with those who she would have normally feasted upon. 'Never play with your food,' her father had always told her, 'and don't become one.' Strange, that she should think of something like that at a moment such as this.
Snape hadn't expected anyone to stay and begin next lesson. The only one he would have thought so nerdy would have been Ms. Granger, yet she sat there, separating her arachnid legs from the typical centipede.
"Is there something wrong, Ms. Lolita?" he asked, his eyebrows raised for question.
She shook her head. "No sir."
"Then why do you not run along with the rest of them?"
Lolita was silent. Why should she answer to this insolent snuff? Even if she really wasn't wed locked, she still would not let someone else begin to push her around.
"Ms. Lolita?" Snape had never been refused an answer before. This was somewhat new. "Look at me when I am speaking to you!"
She did look up, and Snape recoiled in surprise. Pure green, cold, fierce, and certainly piercing. The same look from Lily he had received when he had insulted her after her help. A look of mercy, yet full of loathing.
"Yes, sir?" Lolita saw clearly.
He was weak.
He was weak and cold, afraid of anything and everything. But certainly not death. He would have loved it, welcomed it with open arms. He never had power, was always ridiculed by his peers, a pathetic excuse for a tough- bully Slytherin. And not even they supported him. They all laughed with the rest, always teased him, always taunted him, not once ever welcoming him. But he had a dog, something so small yet so brave. Snape had adored him, his only true friend in the world, until he had died in a fire that had started when he had left the oven on. There was no way to stop it, he was too afraid, of course he was lonely.
"Enough!" he thundered, not standing that gaze anymore. Once had been enough, he didn't need to relive the experience.
"I shall leave then, sir." She got up, moving slowly to the door, as if that itself were an amazing task.
"Ms. Lolita," he called as her hand touched the door.
"Yes sir?" Lolita didn't even bother to turn around, she smiled knowing what he would do.
At first it was an awkward silence, but he finally got his wits together. "Ten points to Gryffindor."
"Thank you, sir."
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
"Mr. Malfoy!" Madame Pomfrey called as she saw him sleeping in his chair, his head resting on the bed.
"Draco?" Harry mumbled, his mind reeling although he was lying down.
Draco immediately reacted to the sound of Harry's voice. Hearing him take in a deep breath, he looked around, joy, fear, any kind of emotion mixed within him.
Lunch had long been over, but no one seemed to notice, let alone care. For Harry and Draco, it was only them in the room, the fretting Madame was a shadow in the back of their minds. But a barrier was in between them still, something that was impossible to break through, yet it seemed so fragile, easily penetrable.
Harry just smiled slightly, getting up to put on his shoes and get ready for whatever class he had this period. As if he felt like thinking about it.
A faint rain started to fall outside, bringing a misty look around the school, and it seemed to hide Harry from Draco.
"Harry!" he suddenly called out, realizing something for the first time. If he wasn't careful, the green of Harry's eyes would never show him the way back to his other half. Like the fog, something will take him far away, and cast him down into eternal darkness once again.
He held Harry's arm, held him tight and pulled him close, kissing him a promise in front of Madame. The promise to always protect his spring green and search for him when he vanishes. To never give up, and to never look back.
The soil spilt slightly, but it created a slight salvation. Draco would watch the snow melt from his life, and let a single daisy bloom.
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A/N: Remember the daisy! It's gonna be important later on. Well? How did you like it? More confusion? If so, then I'm really sorry. And I still haven't gotten around to re-write those chapters. I will try to get the next chapter up before New Years Eve, but I'm going to Egypt for a week, Cairo * YE-AH! * So it might be a while, but certainly not this long again. Promise!
Merry Christmas you guys!!!
