The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Miss J K Rowling owns them all, but I would be willing to barter them from her for all my worldly possessions, which really doesn't amount to that much.

Pairings: Draco/Potter eventually

Warnings: Whiny, self-absorbed Draco ahead, (I'm hoping that the clue bus smacks into him very soon.) not to mention OOC-ness to be had by all.

Authors Note: Hmmm, things still going well, and inspiration has struck! Hopefully it will continue to hang around until I am done with this thing. Regardless, Thanks to all those reading, and as always extra hugs to those who review!

Forsaken163 – I know it was short! Ahhh darn it! And it didn't go at all the way I had originally planned for it to go. I started typing and suddenly the other version seemed, well to be blunt, stupid. So I changed it. Glad it was still palatable.

Part 12

Draco opened his mouth to object, but shut it just as quickly at the waspish look that Professor Snape gave him.

"Do you not trust your Professor, when he tells you that this is a non lethal potion?"

Draco nervously licked his lips as he heard a smattering of giggles from the rest of the circle of students around Snape. Probably the other Slytherins, he would bet. He smirked in an echo of a face he would have made not more then half a year ago, as he attempted to weasel out of the task he had been given. "Of course I believe you sir." He began tactfully. "It's just I remember all to well, some of the horrible mistakes that Longbottom managed."

"Well then Mr. Malfoy, it should ease your mind that Mr. Longbottom is no longer in this class. You shall be testing Miss Parkinson's potion." Snape gave Pansy a favoring smile that had Draco wanting to hurl, at least when he was teacher's pet there was good reason for it.

Now, however, he was reduced to the position of test subject for the Ferrgineous Pilosus Potion. If it worked Draco could expect to have every single hair on his body to turn a bright, almost fluorescent orange. Then there was the bad side. If it wasn't made properly anything could happen, from the much desired temporary effects, to something more permanent like spending the brief remainder of one's life wondering why your internal organs suddenly felt drafty as your skin melted off your body.

Professor Snape did have a point though, if it wasn't safe to drink, he would be fired, put in a jail, and all in all, it just wouldn't be worth it, just to get rid of someone.

"All right sir," Draco said as he stepped forward, past some people, into the middle of the circle. He scowled, and rolled his eyes briefly as he felt someone's fingers gently brush the back of his hand. Fuck Potter was just adamant about showing support in the most touchy feely ways possible. It was a good thing that Draco wasn't his friend, otherwise the Slytherin probably would have been hugged to within an inch of his life.

Draco stopped directly in front of Snape and squared his shoulders before nodding slightly. Yes he trusted Snape, nothing bad was going to happen. Probably something really embarrassing, but nothing bad.

Snape turned from him and stood in front of two boys from... Draco raked his gaze over their robes, which were slightly rumpled, made of a cheap cloth and a tad to short for them. Probably Hufflepuffs then, Ravenclaw's organized their time too well to have anything but perfectly pressed robes, Gryffindors invariably looked like they had slept in theirs, and Slytherin's never looked so cheap. Snape stood there for a few moments while the stupid idiots had the gall to merely smile up at him, when he was clearly giving them the patented 'get the hell out of the way' glare. Draco could tell simply by the set of his shoulders. Both boys were oblivious until Snape, with a huff of inpatients, all but shoved them out of the way.

The beaker containing the potion was retrieved from Snape's desk and then passed to Draco, who just looked at it for a moment. Just because he trusted Snape didn't mean it was going to be easy to get it down. The first problem he had, was with who made the thing, Pansy. Sure in essence Snape had probably done all the work, but Pansy still had a hand in there somewhere. The second was with what the potion was supposed to do. With his fair skin he was going to look like some sort of flashing sign, and that was just an unbearable thought.

Then, and amazingly enough, even worse, was the potion itself. Draco would be astounded if he could manage to choke down any of it. You see inside the beaker was a liquid (but only in the sense that it wasn't quite firm enough to be solid) which gave new meaning to the word slimy. It was aqua coloured with flecks of something that was a moldy green, and fuzzy. He wasn't sure how the flecks managed to stay fuzzy in that slime, but in any case it didn't look drinkable.

The entire class watched in stunned silence as a large snot-like bubble formed in the beaker until it was as big as Draco's head, then popped with a stuttering flatulent sound. Draco almost dropped the beaker.

Shuddering slightly Draco held his breath, closed his eyes, set the rim of the glass on his lower lip, and tilted it slightly. After a few seconds he tilted it further, and even further after a few more seconds. Then he opened one eye and peered down at the sludge he was going to drink. A bubble the size of a galleon formed in the glass and popped with a thankfully less bodily noise quality, though it did spatter on his nose. 'Please, let class be dismissed before this reaches my mouth!' the Slytherin wished fervently, even though he knew that it wasn't going to happen.

Another full 30 seconds passed before Draco felt the potion touch his upper lip, he swallowed convulsively and opened his mouth. If this took much longer he was going to have to take another breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, the stuff had to be close to the edge of the glass by now! Then a horrible thought struck, how much of this potion did Snape expect him to swallow? Surely not more then a small mouthful.

Tentatively Draco forced his cowering tongue forward to find the potion. He could tell when he was close to it, as his taste buds all suddenly screamed at him to back away, and that was without touching it. He then began to repeat in his head a mantra of 'I trust Snape' and started to close his mouth around the small bit that was within range.

"Draco! Don't!" He heard Snape yell, as the beaker was slapped from his hand. His eyes snapped open and he saw several students (all Slytherins) picking them selves up off the floor cautiously as they looked at the beaker, which had smashed against the wall behind them. 'Good reflexes," he thought before suddenly Snape's face filled his vision.

He jerked back instinctively, only to find his head being held by one of the professor's hands while he used the other to perform a cursory inspection, like holding open his eyes to check for signs of, something. "You didn't swallow any of it did you?" Snape said with a deceptively calm voice, but the blond could feel a slight tremor in the older man's hands.

"No professor," Draco said licking his lips nervously.

Snape smiled slightly, so as no one else would notice and ruffled Draco's hair, while making it look like just another check for something, but Draco could tell the difference, he always had been able to.

The potion's teacher stalked to the wall that had stopped the flight of the beaker. Amazingly enough the slime was still maintaining the shape of the glass as it lay amongst the shards of it on the floor. Maybe it should be classified as a solid. He muttered something after pulling out his wand and floated the stuff into the air.

Then while still facing the wall, he started speaking. "If I hadn't noticed the flecks turning colors from green to green-gray, Mr. Malfoy could very well be dead right now." His voice was an even monotone, and his stance seemed relaxed, but there was suck a powerful rage coming off him, no one dared breath to loudly for fear of attracting his attention. "And while I may not yet know the what's and who's, you can rest assured I will know. Very soon, and then expulsion will be a dream compared to what I will put you though. No one threatens my record as a teacher. I have never had a fatal, or near fatal accident in my lab. This will never happen again!"

Draco smiled "My uncle Serverus is so cool!"

The entire rooms attention snapped to the pale Slytherin, who was wobbling back and forth unsteadily. "Did I say that out loud?" he giggled.

Snape was by his side in an instant. "I thought you said you didn't swallow any!" He growled as he checked the boy's eyes. Frowning at what he saw.

"I didn't," Draco protested as he leaned backwards just a little to far and almost fell over. He felt arms twine around his waist, holding him upright, and the Slytherin twisted around to see who had caught him.

"Hello, Potter!" He crowed cheerfully before frowning slightly. "I don't think I like you." He frowned even harder as he attempted to think about what he just said. "Or was that I'm not supposed to like you?"

Draco considered this, his head falling to one side as he attempted to focus his thoughts. Absently he licked his lips.

"Oh Hell," he heard Snape groan. "Come on, we have to get him to the infirmary."

Snape transfigured a table into a levitating stretcher and set Draco on it before he turned and started barking orders. "Miss Granger! Make sure that no one leaves this room until I return. Sit quietly in your desks and work on a essay, which is due tomorrow. Twenty inches on the punishment for unethical potion practices."

Potter waved his wand and began directing the stretcher out the door, causing Draco to smile. "Anything to get out of potions class, eh Potter?" he slurred, tilting his head to watch Snape storm out of the class after them, only pausing long enough to ward the door.

"There now the little cretins will only be able to leave in an emergency." The professor muttered as he quickly caught up to the two boys.

Draco smiled happily to himself, two of the people he cared about were here, things would be just fine. Slowly he let his eyes drift shut, it was getting to be too much of an effort to keep them open. Every now and again Potter or Severus would say something loudly to him, and his eyes would jerk open before drifting down again.

Then finally Draco managed to drift off, voices be damned.

Stupid voices.