Continues from Chapter 4

Next morning

Hermione was making coffee in the kitchenette when Draco stomped down the stairs.

"You!" he snarled, scowling.

"Is that 'you' as in 'me', or 'you' as in us?" Hermione asked, indicating Crooks, who was eating something smelly from a dish on the floor in the corner.

"I'll start with you, and see how we go," Draco retorted.

Hermione sighed. "What have I done this time?"

Draco sent his eyeballs rolling. "This time, Granger, you entered my bedroom and stared at me for gods knows how long until I took you back to your room and tucked you into bed! Again!"

Hermione copied his rolling eyes. "No, I didn't!"

Draco pulled out his trump card. "This time, I have a witness!" he announced.

That gave Hermione some pause for thought. "Omigod, is someone else breaking into our chambers?" she shrieked.

"Simmer down, Granger. The witness is your very own cat."

They both looked at Crooks, who had polished off his breakfast and was eyeing up the kitchenette bench, where the cat treats were kept.

"He was sleeping on my damn feet last night. When I looked to see why I couldn't move them for love nor money, I discovered him – and then I discovered you. In my bedroom. Watching me."

Hermione stared at Draco. "You do know he can't talk, right?"

Yes, Draco knew. "Why don't you pop over to Divination with him and have his entrails read? If they can be used to divine the future, why can't they be used to report the past?"

Hermione gasped and picked Crooks up, shielding him from the maniac Head Boy with her body. "If you harm a single hair on his head" - she hissed, looking particularly Valkyrie-like with her wild hair and ferocious face - "I will personally see to it that you suffer the same fate."

Crooks yawned, sending a cloud of smelly fish-breath Draco's way.

Draco backed away with his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. It was just a suggestion."

He climbed out of the portrait hole, regretfully coffeeless, with Granger throwing insults after him. He pouted. He was telling the truth! And this is how he gets treated! It was jolly unfair.

Breakfast

Hermione was still seething at the Gryffindor breakfast table. "Honestly, can you believe it?" she grizzled to Ginny, was drizzling honey onto her porridge. "What kind of person suggests disemboweling a cat just to win an argument? Malfoy's sick! Deranged!"

Ginny, who had spent years putting up with Crooks's 'presents' in her bed and shoes and had, at times, thought of doing the same thing Malfoy suggested, sent a watered-down "Yep" Hermione's way and stuck a spoonful of porridge in her mouth.

Hermione didn't notice. She also didn't seem to notice that none of her friends and former dorm mates weren't leaping to Crooks's defence or singing his praises. They were all relieved the Ginger Menace (not Ron) had moved out and they no longer had to put up with chewed-up, ripped-up, shed-on or rodent-filled belongings anymore.

For the first time in her life, Ginny felt sorry for Malfoy.

Mid-morning

Madam Pomfrey watched Mr Malfoy swagger in to the Infirmary as if he owned the place. Tucking a tearful First Year Hufflepuff into bed and pulling the privacy curtains closed, she said "Mr Malfoy! It's not often I see you in the Infirmary on a non-Quidditch day."

"Madam Pomfrey," Draco acknowledged before launching into his quest/request. "How's about some of that sleeping draught that Professor Snape makes for you?"

Oh, yes. Severus was this child's godfather. Except he didn't seem to do much godfathering. "Professor Snape should have told you that a prescription from your personal Healer or from St Mungo's is required before I can dispense it."

Draco scowled. Both options sounded like too much hard work. Fortunately, his days of threatening people with refrains such as "My father will hear about this!" were over, so he queried about sleep-encouraging alternatives instead. If a little churlishly.

"You can't beat valerian tea," Madam Pomfrey said enthusiastically. "Take some valerian root, crush it together with lemon balm, passion flower, rose petals, hop flowers and a pinch of lemongrass, steep in hot water for five minutes and you're all set."

She scribbled out the recipe on a scrap of parchment and gave it to Draco, who was rather underwhelmed by this particular potion. He kept his sigh to himself though, said thank you very much and sloped off.

Madam Pomfrey, watching his departing form, made a note to speak to Minerva. Some inside knowledge in pursuit of winning a bet never hurt anyone. If they didn't find out.

Late afternoon

Draco took the Library, walking around in ever-confusing circles until he finally arrived at the section he was looking for (no thanks to Madam Pince).

Somnambulism, he read from an enormous Healer tome, includes undesirable actions such as sleepwalking, that occur during abrupt arousals from non-rapid eye movement sleep. Activities also include talking, sitting up in bed, using the bathroom, eating food and grabbing at hallucinatory objects. The somnambulist frequently has no memory of their nocturnal activities. Causation factors may include a genetic predisposition to somnambulism, hormonal changes, consumption of potions with sedative side effects, alcohol consumption or stressful events experienced during the day.

Fixing the bloody thing, Draco surmised, involved checking in to the Janus Thickey ward for a spell and/or taking really heavy-duty sedative potions, none of which Draco had access to. He doubted even Snape had access to them.

Grumbling, he slammed the book closed most satisfactorily, ignoring Pince's shushing clucks. How to make Granger admit herself into Janice Thickey without her knowing? What a shame he wasn't a few years younger. Younger Draco would have committed crimes in order to get what he wanted. Today's Draco is nothing but a big girl's blouse in comparison.

He yawned. He didn't want to hurt Granger. He wanted to help her.

He didn't feel like dwelling on the reasons why, though.

Tea time

"Guess what?" Blaise whispered excitedly as his toad-in-the-hole materialised into place on the Slytherin table. "There's a French transfer student in Ravenclaw, arrived last week. Absolutely gorgeous, mate." Blaise demonstrated the gorgeousness of the young lady by cupping his hands around large imaginary boobs. "Her name's Felice, and she's very interested in a date with me… and you." He poked Draco in the shoulder.

Yawning, Draco rubbed his shoulder. "Felice, eh?"

"Yup." Blaise took a swig of juice. "And she's happy to meet with us at the same time, if you get my drift."

Draco got the drift, but decided to let the opportunity drift past. "Sorry, mate," he said gloomily. "Too knackered."

Blaise was all courtesy. "No worries, mate, go and get yourself an early night, eh?"

"Yeah, might do." Draco left the table and the Hall before he fell asleep in his mashed potato.

With Draco gone, Blaise looked over at the Gryffindor table. Potter was there, chatting with his mates. Could he convince Potter to have a threesome with himself and Felice so Blaise could have something to blackmail him with?

He stood up. It was worth a try.

A/N the recipe Madam Pomfrey gave Draco was taken from the Olive Magazine website. If you want to give it a try, here it is:

Vaerian Tea Recipe

Ingredients

25g dried valerian root (sedative)

50g dried lemon balm (eases stress)

25g dried passion flower (helps the brain to switch off)

25g dried rose petals (mild sedative)

25g dried hop flowers (for insomnia)

25g dried lemongrass (for restful sleep)

Method

Mix all the herbs together well. Store in an airtight jar in a cool, dry place.

Use one heaped tablespoon to a cup of boiling water. Place the herbs in a tea infuser ball or small teapot.

Allow to steep for 5 minutes. Discard the herbs.

Sweeten to taste with honey or a vegan alternative and drink 30 minutes before bedtime. Keeps for 1 year.