MG: Waaay! We finally have an update!

LD: Ano, sorries it's short! XD you all should know why!

xXx

Breakfast had not been good. He had not enjoyed it one little bit. He had especially not enjoyed the part where his stomach contents had decided to come up to say hello.

Draco groaned and leant more of his weight against the wall. He'd made a swift exit from the Great Hall after the 'incident' and was now heading back to his common room under the pretence that he was going to see Madam Pomfrey. Though at the moment he was considering a real trip to the hospital wing, however much he didn't want to go there.

The queasiness intensified and he choked back a guttural sob that threatened to escape. Merlin's beard, he must look pathetic.

Draco finally made it back to the Slytherin common room, almost expecting to be greeted yet again by the contents of his stomach, but luckily managed to keep it down, that is, until he just managed to run into the bathroom.

"That . . . drink . . ." Draco cringed over the toilet seat. Yes; he knew what had caused it, sort of. After taking a few sips of his drink, that was when he started to feel oh so very nauseous, but why? "Damn house elves . . . They should check those drinks before serving them . . . I'll make sure they-" Draco's rant was cut short when his face had to occupy the toilet once again.

So now what should he do? Go to his morning lessons and try to bear with it? That should be alright, seeing as the ill feeling was starting to recede. But then again, he reflected, maybe he should just stay where he was. The rest of the school had seen him throw up, no doubt finding it immensely funny. And the Golden Trio would definitely have enjoyed the spectacle; Draco scowled at that thought.

That decided it then. As a Malfoy he could not allow such an event to shame his family, and so he refused to give Potter the satisfaction of mocking him for hiding from the school, like a coward.

He stood in up in one swift motion (if a little unstable) and made his way out of the Slytherin common room.

A few minutes later he was sauntering into his Potions classroom, late due to his excursion after breakfast. Snape, however, barely gave him a passing glance, which he noted gleefully caused scowls to jump onto the Gryffindors' faces.

"Right now, class," Snape drawled as he strode to front of the classroom glaring at a few chattering students, threatening them into silence.

"Most of you will be happy to know that I shall not be asking you to perform a practical today, so you will not be making a potion for once, not that any of you would actually succeed in making one. No, today you will all write an essay on how to correctly make . . ." Snape's words were lost to the un-listening crowd of blank faces, as most started to block out Snape, except for one Miss Granger, who gladly listened. But even Draco stopped listening to his favourite teacher's explanations, too intent on finding out what on earth had happened to his drink, too deep in his thoughts to notice the Golden Trio's glances thrown his way or Harry's and Ron's snickering.

It could have just been clumsiness on the part of the house elves, putting something sickly into the potion by accident, he mused. But then, why was I the only one affected? If something was wrong with the juice it should have made everyone who drank it this morning throw up. So that probably means-

He flinched when a folded piece of paper appeared inexplicably on his desk, and then mentally kicked himself for reacting. Carefully, but not noticeably so, he opened the note.

Oh, Hell . . . The note was from Pansy. The boy sighed and glanced over at the girl who just gestured for him to read it. Draco rolled his eyes at her and began to read the note.

'Draco,

Are you ok? I hope you are! I forgive you for what happened at lunch, it wasn't your fault, but I bet it was the Boy-Who-Won't-Die that did that to you! All of the Gryffindorks around him were laughing when it happened! If I were you I'd go and face that no good piece of filth once and for all!

Pansy'

Draco cringed by the time he had finished reading the note. He cast a small spell that made it burn to a crisp while Snape was busy scanning the Gryffindor side of the room. He didn't bother to glance at Pansy, knowing the look of shock on her face at seeing her note being burnt. This thought pleased him.

Although the thought of the Potter boy and his friends being the ones to contaminate his drink was very believable. It must have been him . . . Draco thought darkly while glancing at Harry. He caught the dark haired boy looking at him so shot back a glare, and in return just received a smirk as the Gryffindor returned to pretending to listen to Snape. I'll get back at him . . . Draco sneered and started to write notes for the class.

By the time the class was grudgingly dismissed, Draco had the perfect plan. Pansy was right. He should teach Potter a lesson. And he knew just how to do it.

He hummed under his breath as he left the dungeons, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle as usual. Now, would it be best to make it a private affair? Or public? He grinned. It wasn't vengeance unless everyone knew about it. So he'd start it at lunch. Good. He had the rest of the morning to prepare, then.