"Potter," he answered weakly, hoping that the lack of malice would be ignored.

"You… look different."

This was shaping up to be a very odd conversation indeed.

"Thankyou for that comment Potter. I look forward to talking to you again."

With that he lurched forward slightly and began making his way up the steps of the castle. There was less snow now. It had all melted into the earth creating a brownish slush that had puddles of water from the recent rain. It was still bitingly cold though and he drew his cloaks closer again. Curse this stupid season. Why the hell did they build a castle on such a huge hill? Who the hell designed this place? He plotted briefly about murdering the architects.

As he struggled to climb the steps, his vision continued to go black at the edges and he could feel his head swimming slightly. It was taking all of Draco's willpower not to collapse. Finally he reached the top and started taking the long trek to the dungeons.

He could feel his steps weaving around wildly as he tried desperately to get to the common room. The trip seemed to be taking twice as long as usual. And he was still bothered by that disconcerting conversation with Potter. Why would he even care if Draco looked different? It had seemed very odd to have one's arch nemesis be concerned when one's relatives didn't seem to care at all.

Looking up from the stones which he had been watching desperately for the past minutes, he saw the portrait that was the entrance to the Slytherin common room. It was then he realised that he didn't know the password. This day was definitely not going as well as he had planned.


Harry had been intent on racing down to question Draco (and hopefully fight him as well) as soon as he saw him arrive at school. The coach rolled up mid afternoon in customary Malfoy style and Draco appeared from within it.

Harry raced down the steps to meet it trying not the slip in the slushy mess of melting snow on the steps.

Hermione had been a real worry over the entirety of the holiday. She'd been withdrawn and refusing to tell Ron and Harry what was wrong. They had come up with lots of theories but this one was the most likely. She'd been anti-social ever since that incident with Malfoy. It had to be Malfoy's fault. It had to be.

"Hey Malfoy!"

Harry reached the bottom of the steps just in time to see Malfoy shiver and pull his clothes around him. His face was thin and drawn and it looked like he hadn't been outside in weeks. Two weeks to be precise.

A weak reply was all that elicited from Malfoy and all thoughts of fighting him left Harry's head.

"You look… different."

Now, the appropriately scathing remark occurred. But Harry didn't hear it. As Malfoy turned to leave, all of his attention was focussed on Malfoy's thin form struggling against the wind to climb the steps, slipping occasionally on the slush.

Even once Malfoy had reached the top (which took a surprisingly long time) he was still standingconspicuously shell-shocked at the bottom of the staircase.


It took at least half an hour before someone let him into the common room. And it had to be Crabbe, didn't it? Draco was barely able to stand as he struggled to explain to the mentally challenged moron that he was waiting outside the common room to be let in. Unfortunately, even simple ideas took a long time to sink in. He eventually left Crabbe to his thinking, justifying that it would probably be a good half and hour before he noticed he was alone in the room.

Lying back on the bed, he toyed with the idea of going down to the Great hall for dinner. But that would mean walking. Or worse, doing something at all. He decided just to have a bit of a sleep beforehand.

That was his last thought, as he slumped in the pillows and restlessly dozed off.

He was woken an hour later by a voice in the dormitory.

"Draco?"

"Huh?"

Oh, eloquent Malfoy. What an intelligent comment.

"I see you have arrived at school then Draco."

Damn. It would have to be Snape wouldn't it?

"Um, hello Professor."

"May I ask what you are doing?"

Draco struggled to think. What had he been doing? He had been having a rest, and then planning on going down to dinner. But it was all just too hard.

"Sorry Professor. I just fell asleep."

Lame. Very lame. And by the looks of things, this answer had not impressed Snape one bit. His lip was curling as he spoke with a sneer.

"Well, the headmaster was a tad confused as to why one of the prefects didn't turn up to the feast."

Draco made a vain attempt to smile winningly at his professor. Unfortunately it didn't work too well. It was probably a couple of seconds before he realised that Snape was still talking. And that he now had no idea what on earth the conversation was about.

"… and now I come up here to find you obviously ill. Draco, why didn't you inform me immediately? I could understand you wanting to avoid Pomphrey but you could have had the decency to inform someone as opposed to languishing in here. You shouldn't even be at school in this state. How long have you been ill?"

"Uh…"

Damn it. Another stupid comment. His brain really was being unbearably slow. His head was hurting incredibly. He realised Snape was talking again.

"… cannot believe Lucius allowed you to go back to school in this state…"

The conversation was slipping in and out and Draco's grasp.

"… should owl him and…"

His mind snapped awake at that. Anything but that.

"He didn't know… I didn't tell him."

Snape nodded in comprehension. Draco caught words such as, 'potion,' 'stay there,' and, 'back soon.'

As if he was going to go anywhere. His legs felt too heavy to move. He briefly entertained thoughts about locking the door and keeping out stupid interfering professors. He then thought about having Snape murder him (painfully) in response to this rather stupid plan. With this in mind, he decided to leave the door unlocked.

After leaning over to close the curtains in case one of his fellow students returned from the feast, Draco lay back and waited for Snape to return.