A/N- Hi! Sorry this took so long, I've been extremely busy(jk, I've been procrastinating). It's still surreal to me that people are actually reading my stuff, and that they might actually care if I take forever(I know that last part is just wishful thinking, but it's a nice idea and the world sucks right now). Anyway, this chapter isn't great, but it has necessary buildup for the plot, and I already have the next chapter written, so I just need to edit it and it should be published in a few days. Okay, once again, sorry for the wait, but please review and tell me how you like it!
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Draco groaned. Everything hurt, though perhaps not as much as his wounded pride. Bested by a mudblood! He wasn't sure he could ever live this down. Sure, it wasn't the first time he and Granger had gone toe to toe. He hadn't forgotten when she'd punched him in their third year. At least then he had been able to walk away with his dignity. He lay there on the floor a moment longer before deciding that he had no choice but to try to walk away before someone found him there and started asking too many questions. The very last thing he needed was a story like that floating around the school. For now he should be alright. There was a firm rule against spellcasting in the halls, and he knew she wouldn't want to put her sparkling clean record at risk, even if it meant publicly humiliating him. With an immense amount of effort, Draco managed to hoist himself gradually off the floor, tightly gripping a sconce that was mounted on the wall above him, before straightening to his full height. Encouraged by this triumph, draco eagerly stepped forward, releasing the sconce… and promptly crumpled back to the ground with a wretched moan.
A moment later, Draco heard a door open further down the hall and saw a rotund figure emerge from the staffroom. He made a vain attempt to recede into the shadows, but to no avail. He was still only a few inches from the sconce he had used for balance, and so was still illuminated by the torch it held.
"Malfoy?" professor Slughorn asked, confused, " What happened? Are you alright?"
Of all the people who could've found me, Draco thought bitterly, it had to be Slughorn. Draco hated the new potions professor. He had gone from sitting haughtily in the front of the class while Snape treated him like the superior that he was, to slouching at the back of the room while Slughorn fawned over Potter. Like always. It was always "Potter this" and "Potter that". But it wouldn't be for much longer. No, once his plan succeeded, it would be him that they were talking about. He would be the famous one in their year at Hogwarts. Yes, once the Dark Lord succeeded in his quest for total control over the wizarding world, he would be the famous one, and Potter would be dead.
"Malfoy!" Slughorn repeated, jolting Draco back to the present, "are you hurt?"
"No," Malfoy said, although the dignity with which he had injected his tone was rather ineffective due to the fact that the word had escaped his lips in the form of a soft moan.
Slughorn frowned, scanning Draco's crumpled form before apparently coming to a conclusion and reaching down to help him to his feet.
"Come along, son, we'd best get you to Madam Pomfrey," he said, rather cheerfully, "I must say, I'm not quite sure how you managed to hurt yourself so badly. Nasty fall, I suppose… hmm…"
Once Draco was on his feet, he tried to move away from Slughorn, who was offering his shoulder for stability, with a meager grunt of protest, before giving in with a soft sigh. After all, he needed the hospital wing, and there was no way in hell he was getting there by himself. And with that, he set off down the corridor, braced on the arm of his least favorite teacher(barring Hagrid of course, though that blubbering oaf was hardly a teacher).
An hour or so later, Draco stumbled from the hospital wing, made slightly dizzy by whatever draught Madam Pomfrey had given him for the he hobbled along, he realized that that awful Mudblood still had his wand. He hated her. Now he would either be reduced to begging for his wand like an imbecile or trying to explain in class the next morning how he had managed to lose his wand. He resolved to seek out the Mudblood at the next possible opportunity, but this time with Crabbe and Goyle at his side. Granger may have gotten lucky this time, but next time he would leave nothing up to chance. And on that thought, he strolled towards the dungeons with his nose in the air and a spring in his step as he thought of all the ways he would make that filthy Mudblood pay.
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A/N- Thank you so much for reading! Please review and tell me what you thought. I know it's not great, but the next chapter is much better, and should be posted soon. Thank you so much!
~hermionegrangerandarocketship