Something resembling a family
Chapter Two
Draco started to cry, his whole body trembling along with his irregular sobs, that were more like choked whimpers, big tears running freely down his pale cheeks, making them glow as if they were made of silver. This calmed the potions master down a little, because he had never in his entire life seen Draco Malfoy cry, not even as a young child of seven years old. He would kick and scream and howl and whine, but never cry, never allowing tears to even begin to form in his eyes. Now they were all over his face. Snape finally began to understand the seriousness of the matter at hand.
Not being the most experienced person when it came to comforting other people, especially crying people with the mental notion of five-year old, the potion professor did not exactly know how to proceed in this situation, but he did know he needed to make the boy stop crying, if anything, just for the sake of his own head.
"He's not dead!" he blurted and felt really ridiculous in doing so, "Draco, listen to me, Longbottom is not really dead!"
"'e-e-eee isn'?" Draco hickup'ed through his sobs, turning his big glittering icy eyes towards the professor, who clenched his teeth and shook his head in return, "No, he's just fainted, only pretend-death, see? LONGBOTTOM! WAKE UP!-" and he kicked the passed out student in the side. Neville groaned, but failed to awake, but that seemed to matter less for Draco who instantly brightened, "He's not dead!"
"No. Now calm yourself down and tell me how you feel."
"What you mean?"
"Dizzy? Queasy? Angry? Sad? Confused? Irritated? Hungry? Tired? Any physical pain? Any memory loss?"
Draco blinked, and looked about ready to faint aswell, "I"
"No trouble breathing? Any skin irritation?"
"I"
"What is the last thing you remember?"
"I"
"Yes?"
"I don't know"
"AHA! Memory-loss, alright, what else? Back pain? Headache? Feeling sick?"
"I'm a bit tired..." Draco said cautiously. The potion master nodded vigorously, urging him to go on, but Draco merely frowned and rubbed his left eye to emphatize his point, "'m really tired" he repeated.
"Do you know where you are? What your name is? Where you're from?"
"Draco"
"And how old are you, Draco?"
"Mmmm, six..." Draco mumbled absent-mindedly, before stumbling on his own feet as his eyes drifted shut. Professor Snape immediatly bolted forward and caught him in mid-air as the young Slytherin promptly fell asleep. Looking down at the sleeping form in his arms, Snape realized that this was one of those moments. One of those life-changing, surreal, kodac-moment and he didn't like it very much. However, the situation needed to be dealt with. First things first, he went over to his desk and put the blonde down on top of it. Then he began pacing the floor, trying to come up with a solution, and not really succeeding.
It would seem that Young Mr Malfoy had been tossed back in time, but only mentally, he was now six years old. The Potion Master made a quick turn, his robes billowing around him, he put his hand to his chin, then slowly began to worry his thumb as line of worry began to develope on his forehead.
He would have to speak to the headmaster of course, but professor Dumbledore was at a very important meating in London and would not be back until the next day. That would mean someone would have to take care of Malfoy until then, and one thing Snape was definitely certain of, it would not under any circumstances be him.
A knock on the door broke him out of his thoughts and he halted mid-stride and turned towards the door just as it creaked open. Everyone turned to see the familiar face of Oliver Wood as he peeked inside.
"Oh, sorry, I thought this class was over..." he excused himself, and was just about to leave again, when the potion master was struck with a flash of brilliance, and he called out before Wood had time to close the door again, "It is! Do come in Mr Wood, the rest of you are dismissed, go on!"
Everyone started gathering their stuff with graditude and left the classroom, everyone but Granger that is, who kept looking at her muggle time-device and worrying her lower lip. Snape just hope for her own sake that she would not mention the fact that there was three minutes left of the lesson.
Oliver walked into the room, his entire body radiating self-confidence, and he actually flashed the professor a smile, even though it wasn't very wide, it wasn't strained either. Snape did not smile back however.
"I've come to settle the arrangements of my detention, Sir" Wood explained, and the potion master nodded, "I thought as much. Do sit down, Mr Wood. I have the perfect detention set up for you"
TBC
