A Tiresome Proposal
Chapter 1: Narcolepsy…or some form of the like
The blood soaked into his finger, releasing a shock filled tremble through his arm, extending to his chest and lungs. He was concentrating on it and was now swirling a few drops between his two fingers. The viscous sugary stick barely fused his fingers through a thin bridge of red.
Sliding his thumb down the other finger, the barely opaque fluid coated his skin for a frail line. Running his thumb back up the finger, he quickly shook from his concentrative trance and wiped the fingers on his robe. The thorn from the sage plant would leave a small red mark on the tip of his thumb.
He softly rubbed his thumb against his lip and his tongue silently darted out to cleanse the still bleeding wound. Pansy looked sideways at her partner with concern, "Drac…you alright?"
The boy slightly nodded with a stern look in his eyes, as to cover up any worry within himself. "Just need a band-aid," he mumbled, rising from his seat. Removing his thumb with a small pop he caught sight of it once again.
A little jagged 'z' shape formed and he flexed his thumb back and forth to test the bond his saliva made to its edges. Not paying attention as he walked, he bumped face first into a redhead who was turning around in the aisle. His forehead all but properly smacked into Ron's and he moaned slightly at the rough contact.
"Watch where you're going, Ferret," Ron spat out. The other didn't bother to respond or pull a face back. His eyes lowered and he continued on his way to the front. Ron, however, scowled at the blonde's back as he rubbed his forehead. He heaved a sigh and followed him up the aisle.
The two parted in the open area past the tables, Ron going to the supply area and Draco to Snape's desk. Ron looked back to the Slytherin as he asked the professor for a band-aid, only to have him glare strangely and remind him that a simple healing charm would work better. Draco nodded understandingly and headed back to his seat without a glance back.
Ron followed him once again as he had his sage. When Ron reached Harry he expressed a look of pure confusion. "Malfoy seems like a zombie today," he offered to the brunette who was obviously more concerned with the potion at hand.
Not looking up, Harry responded, "He's been like that for a good two weeks now. Apparently you haven't noticed…"
Ron looked back at the slouching figure, stone gray eyes fixating on a spot on the desk and slightly twirling around another root between his fingers. "Well between all the Quidditch practice, the transfiguration research parchment, and Hermoine yelling at me daily over the prank on her cat and homework…I don't have time to analyze our nemesis' feelings," he retorted, still glaring at said arch-rival.
"Apologies for my failure to recognize your dilemmas but he's really been off lately and near everyone has noticed," the brunette said.
"No, I didn't mean it like that, I've just been stressed lately. What's wrong with him?" he inquired now concerned.
Taking a glance back at the blonde still twirling the root and staring blankly, Harry shook his head, "Not sure. I overheard Pansy talking to Crabbe or Goyle and saying it was pretty serious and something about Voldemort…"
"Ah, so that's why you're interested," Ron smiled.
Harry shrugged, "Well yeah, since all Voldemort's interested in is me…but whichever, Crabbe or Goyle, the one Pansy wasn't talking to shoved me aside and made some lame insult."
"Why do Slytherins bother anymore?" Ron sighed exasperatingly.
Harry shrugged again and focused his attention back on the potion. "Malfoy doesn't, and that's why I'm glad he's down. Except he isn't trying in Quidditch anymore and he was my only competition," he noted.
"Now who's being selfish?" Ron laughed at Harry's pout.
"Guess I'll have to lower my standards when I play…ride my broomstick backwards or something," the brunette commented.
Ron tried to suppress a laugh. "Yeah, maybe Ravenclaw would have a chance then," he added. The thought of Ravenclaw defeating Gryffindor arose amusement in both of them that neither could control. Small hiccups of audible laughter escaped even though it was doing its best to be muffled as the two had their arms around their heads on their desks. Their position near the front in neither the class, nor the stone walled dungeon classroom, helped to stifle them.
Snape's eyes lifted from his book and with a stern voice warned, "Potter and Weasley…if you'll be so kind…" The two lifted their heads and inhaled sharply, ceasing their merriment.
The Gryffindors went back to their potion as snickering now filled the dungeons. The typical belittling came from the four Slytherins behind them but today the taunting was only recognized as Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Ron stole a glimpse behind his shoulder to see that the owner of the absent vocal still hadn't moved. Draco didn't seem to notice the previous laughter or the present taunting and was on the brink of either falling asleep or passing out, the redhead deduced.
After no discipline, the Slytherins eventually got back to work except Draco who fell asleep with a soft, dull thump as his head hit his book.
"He's as lifeless as those mudbloods were when they were petrified by the basilisk," Pansy whispered to Goyle, who nodded and then smirked and whispered to Crabbe conspiratorially. Crabbe elbowed the blonde and pointed to Goyle who tripped Ron as they walked into the Great Hall.
Divination and History of Magic showed no improvement in Draco (well History of Magic doesn't actually count because everyone is asleep in that class) and not even a hilarious spill from one of his enemies caused a reaction. Ron stumbled up and practically growled at the group, making the others laugh twice as loud, but Draco just continued onto the table.
Meals were the only time the Slytherin was somewhat sociable. His housemates knew more than not to pry and inquire about his otherwise antisocial tendencies.
The blonde made the best out of the time of his lunch with the twittering classmates raving on about the latest Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Snorting appropriately, his friends seemed to reward his actions enthusiastically every time with a compliment of some form about him.
Especially his hair; it had grown rather long, too long for his tastes but he was too apathetic to cut it. His silver-blonde fringe almost covered his eyes, constantly making him blow them away or shake his head. Although, this shield was appreciated by him and was his least hated part.
The rest was in a near shag; he always had to tame his hair with a spell each morning. Blaise, no matter how much he would try to ruffle and mess it up, could not succeed until it wore off fourteen hours later. Said antagonist announced he was taking Draco tonight to an undisclosed location, and if, in his excitement, he had not kicked the blonde under the table, Draco would not have received this information.
A small shrug of acquiesce and a nod was exhibited and immediately Pansy's hand cupped to Blaise's ear to tell him to give her the full details right when they were done. If there were one person the table thought would get Draco to open up, it would be Blaise. The brunette was the only one to actually care and Draco recognized this.
It's not like he didn't want to talk to others, it's just the type he is accustomed to tend to be cheating, backstabbing bastards who complied with the Dark Lord's every whim. Their complementary house, however, could always depend on one another and hope for the best when one was distressed. The exception being Hermoine, she was left on her own because she was never relaxed.
"Bloody coursework…why do all the teachers assign projects on the same week? Isn't there some rule where that is not allowed?" she whined, wrapping her finger around a curl nervously.
"Yes 'Moine, but that only counts per grade level…you're taking not only 6th, but 7th level, and with even higher level junk…it can't be helped," Ron submitted. Hermoine threw a great sigh and shut her eyes.
"If it makes you feel any better…" Seamus threw his around the slouched girl next to him. "The Slytherins tripped Ron today and he fell flat on his face! It was brilliant!" he could barely control the laughter.
Ron scowled, "Sod off!" Hermoine lifted her head and smiled sympathetically. Ron smiled back and pointed to the small scratch on his chin as proof.
"You would of thought since Malfoy obviously isn't bothering anyone anymore that they would follow suit, like the trained monkeys they are," Hermoine spat out before pouring a drink.
"Do you know what's wrong with him?" Ron asked, looking over to the blonde.
Hermoine's eyes followed, "My guess is he didn't get a suitable allowance this month," she shrugged indifferently. "Atrocious prat. But his mood hasn't shifted for a good three weeks now…probably is serious."
Ron noted the difference between his two friend's attention spans to the Slytherin, Hermoine always was the more perceptive one so her account would be more accurate, he assumed. Three weeks was a long time to be down, he thought to himself, but it was his rival so he figured he wasn't supposed to care.
"As long as he's leaving us alone," Ron shrugged and went back to eating. His eyes didn't shift though. Upon first glance, and second, and third, nothing appeared wrong with the Slytherin. The exhaustion did not show in any other area than the eyes, Draco's shining silver orbs were now a lifeless gray. Ron was able to make this assumption since those eyes were staring straight back at him.
A minute passed before either realized what they were doing, the gray pupils suddenly widened and then disappeared from the Gryffindor's fixed line of sight. Draco stumbled from the dazed state and shook his head, clearing away stray fringe. Ron saw the blonde suddenly rise and near dart for the door, Blaise following close behind.