Chapter 5: This is it?
Potions were administered, charms cast and all round healing performed. Madam Pomfrey left Draco to rest, turning to fuss over the only other patient in the Hospital Wing – a silent third-year girl.
Draco stares pensively at his sheets. Despite all of the remedies Madam Pomfrey forced on him, she decided it best to let him sleep naturally. Thus Draco is not tired in the least. He has to stay the night and possibly another few days, depending on how he recovers from his "psychotic break". They are a bunch of idiots, Draco thinks to himself, for believing that. It's Voldemort. It has to be. His heart rate spikes just thinking about the Dark Lord. He needs to go on the run. Voldemort will strike and kill him. But what about everyone else? a little voice that sounds annoyingly like Potter whispers in Draco's head.
Everyone else? What about me? Draco hisses back silently.
There is no one else to stop Voldemort. They don't know what a monster he is. You have to warn them, the voice retaliates.
They think I'm crazy! I did try and warn them but they won't listen! What else am I supposed to do? The voice in his head has nothing. Of course it does not. Life has not been simple for Draco Malfoy since Voldemort rose back from the dead. Really, it's all Voldemort's fault. Why exactly does Voldemort have to make everything so damn difficult?
By the time it is nightfall Draco still has no clue about what to do. Currently he is leaning towards the run and go into hiding option. However his conscience will not allow him to just leave. Two things get in the way of its wishes, for Draco to stop Voldemort. One: the whole 'he's nuts' issue. Two: Draco is a coward. He readily acknowledges it and occasionally hates himself for it. Yet that does not change his Slytherin nature to look after himself first. Irritating conscience is getting in the way of that.
Finally the nosey, old matron leaves the Hospital Wing after fluttering around and fussing over her two charges all day. But before she left she threatened that if Draco is not asleep in the next two hours she will put him to sleep. That sounded more terrifying than it should have. The third-year girl, "Ollie" Madam Pomfrey called her, did not get similar treatment. Only a pat on the head and soothing words. It is understandable. Draco saw her expression. She looked empty, as if given the Dementor's Kiss. She looked so vulnerable.
Draco gazes at the ceiling, frown on his face and mind going in circles. He remains stuck for ideas. Massaging his temples and sighing Draco racks his brains. Voldemort has the whole of Hogwarts under his thumb and Draco cannot just let that continue. Unfortunately this time Draco Malfoy has to be the hero and he is not happy about it. He needs help.
After a solid twenty minutes brainstorming and resolutely not sleeping Draco hears the padding of feet in the Hospital Wing. He quickly makes a grab for his wand but there is nothing to grab. Madam Pomfrey has it so he will not hurt himself. Shit. If Draco dies he will blame her. Maybe it is a prelude to him becoming a ghost cursed to float around Hogwarts until he accepts his revenge plan is for naught. That would entail further difficulty as ghosts are notoriously unchanging and to accept something one has to change. Wait, the person is still coming. Think on your feet, Malfoy. His eyelids fly shut and he slows his breathing, feigning sleep, suspecting either Madam Pomfrey or Voldemort. Draco refuses to be unprepared. But he is. Madam Pomfrey, if he is murdered you will regret it.
"You're awake," a young girl's voice states softly. Draco opens his eyes cautiously and at the foot of his bed is the third-year patient, presumably "Ollie". What kind of name is that for a girl anyway? Who would name a baby girl Ollie? Draco has decided parents can be very idiotic. Hey, let's name her a boy's name! Hey, let's get our son involved with a hate group! Idiotic parents.
"What do you want?" Draco snaps quietly. He is in no mood for little girls bugging him in the middle of the night.
"I believe you," Ollie whispers. "It-" her eyes lower and she wraps her arms around her torso, "it happened to me too. I woke up thirteen. I'm fifteen." She peers at Draco so fearfully, eyes full of horror he is incapable of imagining. "Is he here? You Know Who?" Her voice crack and Draco can see the beginning of tears.
Draco thought he felt helpless a few moments ago. Now he feels utterly petrified. She's about to cry! What does he do? Usually he is the cause of tears for those weaker than him, before the war. Not knowing what else to try he tells her the truth. "Yes."
He is not sure what he expected but it is not her reaction. Her face goes blank, like her consciousness left her body. A precious few tears run down her cheeks, though they seem to be only remnant of a moment ago. Ollie leaves Draco's bedside and returns to her own. Draco watches as she curls into foetal position and stares at nothing. It is unnerving. Whatever this girl has been through it is something beyond even Draco's experiences. The murder and torturing he saw, what she saw was worse. It is another ember in the fire of his hatred towards Voldemort. And another shadow of fear cast by the terrible Dark Lord.
Come morning Draco is subjected to several various techniques to cure his addled mind. None of them work. Ollie coming to him last night, telling him she believes, is all the proof Draco needs. He has not imagined Voldemort and the wars. And Ollie still curled in a ball, caught in a trap of horror is confirmation. It is real.
But Madam Pomfrey does not know that.
Eventually she gives up. "I'm afraid, Mr Malfoy, that we must wait for your brain to right itself," Madam Pomfrey finally says. "No amount of magic I do will get you through this. In time your memories will return. For now you need rest and as little stress as possible." Absent-mindedly Madam Pomfrey straightens Draco's sheets. "Another day in the Hospital Wing at least," she announces.
Draco is about to groan in frustration, the Hospital Wing is incredibly boring, but so far he has not been plagued by dead witches and wizards. Voldemort has not attacked yet. Things are looking up. Though it is not much when the situation is already in the gutter. So he accepts his fate. Another day in the Hospital Wing to decide what to do.
Yeah, it does not make the Hospital Wing any less boring. It is no help whatsoever that Draco is well aware of the fact Voldemort is like a snake, waiting to strike. He is cunning. After he came back following Cedric Diggory's murder he kept hidden, amassing followers and regrowing his strength. He did not outright take over the Ministry; he plotted and wormed his way in from the inside until the entire Ministry, Daily Prophet and Wizarding Britain were under his control. Clearly he made Hogwarts believe that he is good. Of course Salazar Slytherin's heir is a snake. There is some poetic justice in it. It would be stupid if Hufflepuff's heir was a snake. That is the beauty in the universe seemingly aligning itself to the trivial matters of fitting a family lineage.
Three hours later and even thinking about Voldemort is tedious. Draco has nothing to do and Madam Pomfrey is no help. He requests a book from his belongings but she deems it too stressful on his "delicate mental state". It could "upset" him. Like it would even matter because Draco is going to die from sheer boredom and no amount of persuasion can convince her of his need for entertainment. Then he will come back as a ghost anyway to haunt Madam Pomfrey because she sure knows how to put his life at risk.
Snatches of conversation drift from outside of the large Hospital Wing doors, where Madam Pomfrey recently flitted. Draco sings a song in his head, The Weird Sisters' chart topping Magic Works, in an attempt to skive off aforementioned death by boredom. Only to be interrupted mid-chorus when a boy comes into the Hospital Wing. Another patient?
"You have five minutes," Madam Pomfrey reminds the person sternly, fierce when it comes to the wellbeing of the poorly. So a visitor then. Possibly for Ollie. None of Draco's Slytherin friends would visit him.
What Draco was absolutely not expecting under any circumstances was Neville Longbottom. Neville. Longbottom. Which is why when he comes to stand by Draco's bedside he does an excellent impersonation of a fish with nothing witty OR cutting to say. Instead what comes out of his mouth is; "We're not friends."
Neville gives him a look that confirms this statement. He looks confident, as he did in seventh year, though not cocky. The look of a man assured with his own self-worth. On the other hand, Draco during seventh year looked frightened ninety percent of the time. The look of a man who hated himself. Good to know nothing has really changed since Voldemort's defeat. Except, Voldemort is now undefeated. Well, isn't that a terrible, terrible steaming plate of irony?
"This is not the Hogwarts we know. You seem to be the only one aware of it. That's why I need your help to stop You Know Who because you want him dead just like the rest of us," Neville explains. Even knowing Longbottom is an Auror and was vital to the defeat of Voldemort all Draco can see is the chubby, nervous kid that was easy to make fun of. He glances at Ollie hunched under her bed sheets. Neville Longbottom and a broken third-year as his allies? Just his luck.
A/N: I'm glad Neville finally showed up. As testimony to this the entire chapter will be dedicated to him (also to BloodyCamellia, my second reviewer after Lynn D. Mariza [who is an awesome writer, check out her story C'est La Vie if you're into X-men and HP]). Reviews are always help negative or positive. I want to improve as a writer so give me your feedback. I would love to hear it. Thank you so much Bloody Camellia and Lynn D. Mariza for your support. Bye dearies. Look forward to Neville.
P.S. I finally named my OC, Ollie Chiu. Yes, this was done intentionally. I enjoy myself.