Disclaimer-I am no JK Rowling, and these are her characters. Im just playing with them.
"Awake, I see. Good"
Draco jumped from the bed, his adrenaline shooting through his sick, sore body, forcing his muscles awake, and to be ready.
He turned his head, a wandless spell ready on his lips, to see his intruder. To see who could possible walk so lightly to surprise the paranoid Malfoy so much. To see who actually knew about him being here, in this hospital.
His eyes took in the long dark greasy hair, the small beaded black eyes, and the hooked nose. The robes were long and black, and high necked, with more buttons then were really necessary.
Snape. Severus Snape, famed English potions master, Death eater, and former professor of Hogwarts.
"Good day, Snape. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Draco said, his voice smooth like silk, as his father taught him. As this very man had encouraged and, sometimes, enforced.
Snape sneered. This little upstart...Snape calmed himself. It was important that he do as the Dark Lord wished. No one lived to go against the Dark Lord. The former headmaster was the prime, and often used, example of this. This was nothing but a favour, to a long time friend.
"I am here, at your mother's request, to see how you are faring. When the hospital owled with the news that you had been brought here, why, she was a mess. I am simply here to see for myself." Snape said, moving to sit on the empty chair beside the bed. He did not plan on staying for very long. However, it had been a long, tedious day, and his body would protest otherwise.
"I see. Tell me, Snape, why could my mother not come herself."
"She is, I am afraid, currently indisposed." Snape sneered.
The two men staried at eachother, neither giving ground. They had always had a sort of animosity filled friendship between them, but, now, things had changed. They changed during the fight in the Hogwarts tower, and they had changed more so, when they were seen by the Dark Lord, at the last meet. Something had never clicked back into place after that. But, then again, why should it have? Things have finally been decided, in a way, at least.
"I see. I am doing just fine, and you can report that back to my mother." Draco said, his voice cold with scorn. His mother, indisposed. what else was new? Of course her only son, and heir, wasn't good enough to warrent a in person visit. No, she was likely out seeing one of her friends, or maybe even Lucius.
Merlin forbid cancelling a plan to see her own goddamn son.
Draco was angry. He had not realized it before, but he knew it without a doubt now. He was pissed. Not just a little, but a lot. He was, in a word, furious.
He was sitting here, in this hospital, with gods knew what curse thrown at him, as far as he knew, he almost died, and emabressed himself terribly in fron of Hermione, and could his mother, his own FUCKING mother, come see him?
No. Of course not. It wasn't like he came from her own body or anything. It wasn't like he mattered to her, he hadn't before, he didnt now. Why would anything change.
Draco was depressed. Depressed, and angry. He wished a lot of things from his life, wished that he had been born from other parents, brought up in a different manner, but, alas, not to be. He missed all those years of learning, and exploring, and mostly, friendship, bring a dick. He was, at the time, his father's son, without a doubt.
But now. Now he knew better. He wanted to become something that was more akin to him, something more real, more human. He didn't know how to go about it, but, he would try.
However
First things first. He had to get rid of Snape, who was, for whatever reason, giving him a rather potent glare.
"Malfoy, Draco. Your mother would like more of a report then that, as I'm sure you are aware. I would like some details, if it isnt so difficult." Why was this child so difficult?
"I'm afraid, Snape, that it is that difficult. You see, I was cursed, end of story. Im here, I am, luckily, getting better, and will be out of here within the week. That is what I know, and that is what you can tell Mother." Draco was crisp, his voice betraying his desire to be alone, to be without this man, at the least.
"Now, if you please, I am not yet fully recovered, and need to rest."
Snape looked visably shocked, but the look was fleeting, to be replaced with the customary scowl.
"Of course, Draco. Get your rest. I shall come see you again soon." and with that, Snape left in a cloud of billowing cloaks and temper.
Draco, was, in all honesty, not at all restful. He was angry, and bold, and this was not a good combination. Not at all. In fact, Draco tended to be right recklass when he was in a mood like this. Generally, it did not tend to bode well for himself, and whoever the recipient happened to be.
At this time, there was only one person who could not only help him with exploring himself, but, perhaps, make him feel better.
In this fit of recklessness, which Draco would, as most people who are struck with this mental state, of course, regret this almost as soon as he had done it, he jumped out of bed.
Handy that St. Mungo's was blessed with fireplaces all around, to floo family, loved ones and employers.
Also, equally handy (although, as mentioned, equally regretful) that there was a aformentioned fireplace right in the comfort of his own room. Complete with floo powder.
Draco, who would begin the regret in about 2 minutes, grabbed some floo powder in his hands, brarely feeling the soft, yet grainy powder, and threw it into the fireplace. He quickly glanced around at the rest of the room, assuring himself that the other occupants were sleeping, and that Snape was, in fact, gone.
He turned back to the fireplace, the fire purple and gree in anticipation of the spoken address, and called
"Head Girls room, Hogwarts"
end transmission