Hermione did not hate Sirius Black.
She just didn't trust him.
Oh, she knew he loved Harry. You only needed to look at how the man's eyes seemed to shine with excitement whenever the boy's name was mentioned to see how much love Sirius had for his godchild.
What Hermione wasn't sure about was whether Sirius loved Harry for being 'Harry,'...or if it was because he looked a lot like James Potter.
It was the little things she had observed, really. The way Sirius talked to Harry, the way he acted around him, even the advice he gave…it sounded more like the advice you would give a friend or a sibling, rather than a child you were supposed to look after.
Mrs. Weasley said it best. It seemed like Sirius thought that he had his best friend back, and he was acting in ways that made him…erratic. Risking being seen in the Gryffindor fireplace, he encouraged the Defence club(yes, she knew it was her idea, but still), and he seemed so proud of Harry breaking the rules. But what made her so sure that Sirius hadn't grown up since his Hogwarts days was his advice about Draco Malfoy.
"Nope, don't even bother," Sirius had said, shaking his disembodied head.
Harry had just explained the whole Draco Malfoy situation in detail, but even before he had finished, Sirius had a look of doubt on his face.
"I don't know Sirius. It looks like he's sincere-" started Harry, but Sirius cut him off.
"Harry, I say this as someone who grew up in a family of Slytherin's; don't bother. I can't tell you how many times I tried to talk to Reggie or Bella or Cissy, only for them to brush me off or curse me. Snakes don't change their scales; whatever Malfoy's plot is, he's focused on you being the bait. Don't take it."
"Professor Snape is in Slytherin, and he's part of the Order," Hermione countered.
Sirius' laugh was so doglike that she thought he was about to turn into his Animagus form.
"Trust me, Snivellus is not the example that you think he is. The prick hasn't changed since we were kids. If it was up to me, he'd be in a ditch somewhere no one could find him, but I'm never that lucky."
Hermione wanted to say something in retaliation, but she bit her tongue; Sirius and Professor Snape had serious bad blood between them, like Harry and Draco, but turned up to eleven. Professor Snape even tried to get Sirius Kissed at the end of Third Year. It made sense that his relationship with the man was clouding his judgment.
But that didn't make it fair.
"I've been telling them that from the start, but it's like my word means fuck-all when it comes to Malfoy," Ron grumbled. "Getting involved with that bloke will only hurt us in the end."
"...I don't know Sirius," Harry said. "He's trying to change. I don't like him, but I can't deny he's trying to become a better person. I don't think rejecting him will help us at all, besides being petty. Besides, it's one less wand for Voldemort."
"Or, he'll be like Snape, and he'll be a wand for him half the time," Sirius said wryly. "Look, I know I can't really tell you to do- I don't really have the right to if I'm being honest- but if you want my opinion? Steer clear of him. Worry about yourselves. He knew what side he picked. He's just getting cold feet. When it's time to fight, you'll know exactly who he's casting for."
She did not like Draco Malfoy. In fact, if you asked her last year, she would have said she hated Draco Malfoy; he seemed to cause half of the problems that she and her friends had gone through everywhere, and he had always called her horrid names. He was an arrogant berk who only cared about blood purity and felt that anyone who wasn't on his level shouldn't even be afforded the basic rights every human deserved.
But he was trying to change. Scratch that, he was changing, and for the better. Yes, Malfoy might have important information about Voldemort, but the main reason she wanted to give him a chance was because she liked to see the good in everyone. Ron, Harry, the Weasley twins, and even people like Snape and Malfoy. She believed that everybody had redeeming qualities and that everyone deserved a second chance. No one was perfect; everybody had a dark side.
Even her.
She had read so many stories of powerful witches seeking knowledge until it consumed them, destroying them. Hermione read and learned, the two things she did best. She curbed down on her curiosity, on how far she could push things. She tried her best to follow the rules unless it endangered her friends or herself. She gave herself clear limits. Harry was the brave and powerful spellcaster, Ron was the plucky friend who knew so much about the world around them, and she was the researcher, the one who found the answers by going through dusty tome after tome, finding even the most obscure rituals and spells.
Nothing more, nothing less.
"Granger?"
She blinked at the sound of her name, coming back to herself.
Draco Malfoy was standing right in front of her.
Her left hand, which had been lax, now tightened around her wand, a flurry of spells rushing to the forefront of her mind. Draco...even if he had changed, she didn't like being alone with him like this, where there were no other witnesses. Back in First year, a scenario like this would have been a nightmare for her…
Mafoy, seeing her tenseness, immediately raised his hands in surrender.
"Easy Granger. I'm unarmed."
That doesn't mean much for a wizard.
Still, she made sure to point her wand at the ground.
"What are you doing here Malfoy?" she asked, confused.
"Same as you; I'm on patrol."
Right. Sometimes, it was hard to remember that Draco was a prefect as well. Though, she was surprised to see him patrolling this far away from the dungeons. They were near the fourth floor, near that weird picture of a wizard trying to teach trolls how to do ballet.
So normal dumb wizarding ideas, like writing with quills and playing a game where people-seeking cannon balls were unleashed against eleven-year-olds.
"Where's Pansy?"
Draco shrugged "She's not really talking to me right now, so we can't coordinate patrols anymore. She's either asleep, or she's in the dungeons. Where's Weasley?"
"He has homework," she grumbled. If Ron had just followed the schedule she had made for him, he wouldn't have been drowning in schoolwork, but what did she know? It's not like she was at the top of their class for four years straight.
"So, that means the two of us are patrolling alone. Wanna team up?"
Her first instinct was to deny his offer vehemently. Walking in the dark castle with Draco Malfoy, alone, after hours seemed like a recipe for disaster.
But she forced it down and gave him a polite smile.
"Sure."
Patrolling wasn't as serious as it sounded. It was mostly just going around the castle, making sure people weren't out of beds, and generally just ensuring everything was quiet. Patrolling with Ron was…an experience. He constantly made jokes and even tried to scare her the first couple of times. He could be stupidly annoying…but he was hilarious, and he made her laugh, something she needed with their O. this year.
Patrolling with Malfoy was tense. Half the time she was on the lookout for something in the shadows, and the other half, she was on the lookout for him.
She knew she had spoken a big game about accepting him and making sure he wasn't isolated, but now that she was in the position she had to trust that Draco Malfoy really had changed, and neither Ron nor Harry was here, it-
"Can we talk?" Draco said suddenly. "I know this is supposed to be serious and stuff, but I think I'll go spare if we just walk here in silence for the next couple of hours."
"Oh. Um, okay. What do you want to talk about?"
Ron and Harry were right, this is weird.
"What do you want to do after Hogwarts?"
"I'd like to work in the Ministry," she said immediately. "There are so many places where I could learn valuable things; the Department of Magical Transportation, the Department of Mysteries, maybe even the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!"
The last one was a more recent desire, borne from wanting to see her Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare blossom into something more substantial. Plus, it might help her learn about why House Elves were the way they were, so needy and dependent on wizards despite having powerful magic of their own.
"Really? I thought you'd want to be a Professor," Malfoy said in surprise.
Hermione let out a very unladylike snort. "Look, I understand that I've cultivated the image of a bookworm and a know-it-all all, but I have zero desire to teach children. I barely have the patience to help Ron and Harry pass their classes. I like discovering things and learning more about magic and its rules. I want to learn more about the secrets of magic that no one knows about."
"Like where magic comes from?" Draco asked.
"Well naturally! It's only one of the biggest mysteries in the magical world!"
Nobody knew where magic came from, or precisely what it was; there was speculation that the difference between wizards and humans was a gene that allowed them to harness magic and warp reality, but no one really knew what it was. You couldn't measure magic or manipulate it in its raw state, and the rules they knew about magic barely seemed adequate for the overpowering force of nature that it was.
"You know, I have a theory about that," Draco said causally as they walked up the staircase.
Hermione couldn't help but tilt her head slightly to the side as she raised an eyebrow.
"Really? You have a theory about the source of magic?"
"Hey, you don't have to sound so skeptical. I'm not that far behind you in the yearly rankings, you know?"
As much as she hated to admit it, Malfoy was right. Whilst she was usually in the top three students of the year, often taking the number one spot, Draco was always in the top ten, sometimes even breaching the top five. Ron and Harry barely ever made it past the top thirty. Back then, it used to grind at her, that someone who believed in such pig-headed values was smart, and she'd have to console herself with the fact at least he wasn't smarter than her.
"This theory doesn't have anything to do with purity of blood or anything like that, does it?" she asked shrewdly.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, I promise it has nothing to do with whose ballsack you came from."
The sheer absurdity of the statement, especially coming from someone like Draco Malfoy, was enough for her to let out a small peal of shrieking laughter before she regained her senses and covered her mouth, her face turning red.
Draco did nothing more than let out a huff of amusement before continuing to move forward and speak.
"My theory is this; Magic comes from the earth's core. It is an invisible, intangible energy that was created during the Big Bang, and suffused itself with the planet as it was being created. Magical energy emanates from beneath the mantle and upwards through the crust, permeating grass, trees, rocks, and even the very air. I think that wizards are a subspecies of humans that came across an unrefined, but physical source of pure magic; think of something like the Fountain of Youth, but back in the Stone Age.
"I'm thinking whatever they gathered around, whether it was a forest or a lake, was so permeated with magic that they built a society around that source. Drinking, feeding, or even living next to a source of near undiluted magic would probably show some kind of enhancement to the body, whether it be physical or mental. As generations of people lived there, magic would have entered their DNA, changing them on a base level allowing them to perform miracles with their minds. These would have been the first uses of wandless magic.
"Now, we know that magic and humanity originated from Africa, but I suspect the Akkadian Empire, the first Empire in the world, was where our group of first-generation wizards came from. The legends and myths that come from the Akkadian Emire mention a fair amount of gods, and we know from Grecian History that gods like Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades were wizards that used specialized weapons made from enchanted metals as the foci for their abilities, the predecessors to staffs and wands.
"My theory isn't perfect, but it explains why things like why certain woods are able to contain the power of creatures like phoenixes and dragons, why a majority of magical creatures seem so similar to some of their mundane counterparts, like the relations between dragons and reptiles, and why wizards can use magic in the first place, but people such as Squibs and Muggleborns exist."
So involved in his theory, that it took Draco a solid minute to realize that Hermione was behind him several paces, staring at him in shock.
"Everything all right there Granger?" he asked, a tone of concern in his voice.
"Uh y-yeah," she stammered, catching up to him. "It just…your theory surprised me."
"Why? The Akkadian Empire angle too extreme?"
"No-well yeah, but I'll come back to that later. It's just…you used a lot of muggle terminology and science, like the Big Bang, the Earth's Crust, DNA… just a lot of things I didn't expect you to know about."
Draco shrugged, looking faintly uncomfortable. "Like I said, I went out to see what else about the world my parents were lying to me about."
"Yes, but Draco, you missed several years of primary and secondary school, the place where you would learn about these things in the first place. When you said you knew about the muggle world, I thought it was just a more thorough surface look, that you knew enough not to stand out, not enough that you could pass off as a secondary school student. How'd you learn several years of schooling in one summer?"
An awkward grin was her answer. "I had a lot of time on my hands. So, what do you think of my theory?"
"It's…okay," she admitted. "Though, I question the validity of your Akkadian Empire argument. Yes, they were the first Empire, but you're automatically assuming that the first thing a bunch of magic users would do is start an Empire. It's more likely that there were tribes of magic users that stuck together, figuring out their abilities and refining them. Not to mention, the first recorded uses of wandless magic originate from Africa, where the largest concentration of wandless magic users reside today."
"Yeah, but it's possible the Akkadian Empire solely relied on oral notation rather than physical manuscripts. And you forget, even before Apparaition and Portkey's and Floos and brooms and flying carpets, wizards had a mode of teleportation. Yes, it was slow, clumsy, relied on runes that couldn't be messed up, and had a large number of problems with the initial designs, but teleportation was noted to have been used in the Bronze Age…"
That was how the next two hours went; them discussing Draco's theory. Hermione poking holes in it playfully, while Draco tried to defend it with a smile. It was…
Nice.
A lot nicer than she expected. She wouldn't say that she and Draco were the best of friends now but he had tentatively moved from ally to companion.
"You know, I'm kind of mad at you now," she said as they finished searching the Astronomy Tower.
"For what reason?"
"If you hadn't been such a prat all these years, we could have had conversations like this all the time."
Merlin, it had been a while since she got to exercise her brain with another classmate. Other Gryffindors weren't really interested in what she studied, and she still had a know-it-all reputation. She wasn't friends with anyone in Ravenclaw; they seemed to see her more as competition than a peer. It was obvious why she didn't converse with any Slytherin and Hufflepuffs weren't interested in her either. It didn't help that people seemed to treat their little group as…well, as dangerous, and as such, did their best to avoid her, not wanting to get caught up in whatever the current year's scheme was.
Draco let out a little sigh at that. "Not really. Even if I wasn't a racist, I was still a pampered brat who thought too highly of his father. You would have still hated me on principle."
"A shame, then. Though, if everything goes well, we can make up for lost time."
Draco had a full smile on his face at that, and while it twisted his scar a bit, it made him look…kinder, in a way.
"Thank you," he said softly.
For a few minutes, they just walked together, the silence between them no longer uncomfortable.
"I was hoping you could pass on a message to Potter for me," Draco said as they neared Gryffindor Tower.
"A message that can't wait until the next Care of Magical Creatures lesson?"
"More like a message I don't want other Slytherin's to overhear," Draco replied. "I understand that I'm not invited to the Defence Club, but if Potter is willing to spare a couple of hours a week, there are a few things I can teach him."
Hermione couldn't help but cross her arms in disbelief. "No offense, Malfoy, but what can you teach Harry?"
Draco's answer was to extend a hand.
Hermione narrowed her eyes with skepticism.
And with a flash of light and heat, blazing red fire filled his hand.
Hermione's eyes widened with shock.
"Wandless magic," she said breathlessly. "You-only powerful wizards can do that!"
Draco's smirk was so wide it nearly reminded her of his more unpleasant days.
"Not necessarily. But it's a good skill to have and just one of the many I can show Potter."
Hermione shook her head. "You can't just teach someone wandless magic; it's a skill, almost like being an Animagus. Only certain people can do it, like Professor Dumbledore."
And Voldemort went unsaid.
"You're already forgetting our conversation, Granger? Students from the Uagadou School of Magic do wandless magic all the time. Wands are a tool; us European wizards have been using them as a crutch."
"...Harry won't learn anything dark," Hermione said after a few minutes, biting her bottom lip. Normally, she would have been more cautious, agreeing to something like this, but wandless magic was too much of a game-changer. Harry might have been the best dueller in their year, but she was well aware he had no extraordinary skills to back him up, besides his stupendous luck. Wandless magic would be able to help him survive against Voldemort, there was no question about that.
Draco snuffed out the flames in his hand by closing his fist, and there was an imperious look in his eyes as he spoke.
"From the age of eight till the summer before last, my parents spent hundreds of Galleons having some of the best duellists, the greatest potioneers, the craftiest enchanters, and the most skilled spell crafters personally tutor me for months on end. I don't show it often, but I'm more skilled than damn near every student in this castle. If I used Dark Magic, it was because I wanted to, not because I needed to. I'm a Malfoy; a long time ago, that name was synonymous with cunning and skill. I'm going to be the one to make people remember that.
"And if Potter decides he's tired of getting pushed around by old men with their own agendas, then send him my way, and I'll show him how to reach the strength they have now."
"..you really think you have the skills to become the next Albus Dumbledore?" she asked quietly.
Harry had told her of Draco's ambition; to have people see him as the next Leader of the Light, or at the very least, comparable in power. Before tonight, she had been skeptical. But after seeing him summon flames without a wand…
Draco smiled again, but this time, the shadows of the corridor made his face look darker, like a beast wearing the skin of a human.
"I'm halfway there."
"It's a trick," Ron said around a mouthful of bacon. "Had his wand up his sleeve or something. Fred and George say Muggles have something like that; sleigh of hands-"
"Sleight of hand," Hermione corrected immediately.
"Close enough. You expect me to believe a bloke like Malfoy can do wandless magic? Come off it. Only the strongest wizards in history could do that; Godric Gryffindor, Dumbledore, even bloody You-Know-Who."
"But wizards in Uagadou don't use wands," Hermione said slowly, sipping pumpkin juice. "It's how some of them get away with breaking the Statute; they can say that they were just making random gestures and didn't mean to make someone's chin fall off."
"Yeah, but Uagadou keeps their secrets to themselves. Dad met a Ghanaian wizard when he was starting out in the Ministry. He said the bloke barely even spoke about his home. They like keeping it hush-hush. They wouldn't tell outsiders about how to do wandless magic."
"Not even for gold?"
Harry had been musing over what Hermione had told them all morning, and it seemed that he was ready to speak now.
She worried about that. Harry was quieter nowadays, and he hid things from them. She didn't think he was splitting from them or something like that, but she knew that he was keeping more to his chest nowadays, and with all the pressure on his shoulders, that couldn't be good for his mental health.
"It's not like secrets can't be sold for gold," Harry continued. "I mean, just look at what Malfoy's dad has been able to do with a bag of gold at the right time; Mr. Weasley told me. Malfoy Sr. gets laws he doesn't like delayed, bills that might disturb his business shut down, a place on the school board of Governors, and the ear of the Minister. Some gold in exchange for a few magical secrets doesn't seem impossible."
Then he turned to her.
"How useful do you think this is, realistically? Is it just a party trick to impress people, or is it something I can use in a duel?"
She licked her lips nervously as she thought of how to answer.
"It…depends? Wandless magic in Britain has been well documented, because of how rare it is. Oftentimes, people can't do much with it; levitate objects, banish them, fix things with a touch, that sort of thing. But if he can do what people from Uagadou can do…Harry, people don't really…Africa has a bad reputation, in the magical community. Everything there is too…powerful. It's the place where creatures like Nundu and the Sphinx came from, and they need groups of powerful wizards to deal with them. Uagadouan wizards are on another level from European wizards. One Uagadouan sorcerer can do things that take up to ten wizards here."
She was rambling, and she knew it, but she wasn't too sure about this offer of Draco's. Yes, she understood that Harry needed power and skills, but Uagadou was considered only a few steps away from a place like Durmstrang. They kept their secrets viciously, they treated outsiders coldly, and they weren't like Hogwarts.
You could technically graduate from Uagadou at any level, or 'year' in Hogwarts speak. Most people who attended the secretive school left at what counted as their fourth year. But every year, around ten wizards graduated from what equated to their seventh year, and those were the top crop for wizardry. They could summon storms with simple gestures, heal wounds deemed incurable, and take on armies of wizards on their own.
There was a reason why despite all the wars and battles that had happened in the last thousand years, no one had dared involve Uagadou in their conflicts. Even Grindlewald, someone who had traveled the world looking for strong recruits and challenges, had never stepped foot in Uganda, or the continent of Africa if they were being specific.
"It's an edge," she said finally. "If taken to its extreme, I don't doubt that you could match up to someone like You-Know-Who."
"Yeah, but Uagadouan wizards are practically nutters. You can't even look in their direction without them giving you the evil eye. I mean, did you hear what those Nigerian wizards did to some of the Death Eaters that came at the World Cup? They're in the Janus Thickney Ward, and they still can't speak English!" Ron argued, concern on his face. "I mean, what if Malfoy uses this as an excuse to curse Harry with something horrid?"
"We agreed to give Malfoy a chance," Harry said. "And if this is something that helps me survive the year, then I won't turn my nose up at it just because a berk is the one handing it to me."
"...we should go with you," Hermione said suddenly.
As much as she wanted to say that it was a desire borne from wanting Harry safe, she couldn't lie, at least, not to herself.
She wanted that power.
It was a greedy thing, the lust for knowledge in her head. Like a hole with no bottom, her curiosity forced her to dig deeper, devour more, and learn everything. Even after attending Hogwarts for four years, magic still enchanted her, taking her by surprise. It amazed her-galled her, really-that wizards could do such fantastical things and just dismiss it, not wanting to see how far it could go.
Ron nodded along with her idea. "Yeah, that's a great idea. With me and Hermione there-"
"Hermione and I," she corrected automatically.
"Yeah, whatever. With the two of us there, any tricks that Malfoy tries will be sniffed out. He can't get something past all three of us."
Harry nodded, grabbing a crumpet with one hand, and the butter dish with the other.
"Did he mention a meeting place? A classroom or something like that?"
Hermione shrugged. "I think you'll have to ask him that Harry. Besides, whatever it is, it can't really compare to the Room of Requirement, can it? More chance of getting caught, but he'll know that which means there's less chance of us getting hexed."
As Harry and Ron really started to get into the particulars of what wandless magic really entailed("It's basically accidental magic that you're doing on purpose," Ron explained. "Like when you're a baby, and you want your bottle, so you summon it yourself. Except as an adult, you do that with a wand, a sword, anything really. Dad says that Dumbledore can do Lumos without a wand; just summons a ball of light in the palm of his hand) Hermione found herself biting her lip wondering just how Draco had mastered it in the first place.
The theory of Draco just buying the secrets of off someone made sense…until you realized that nearly all purebloods, whilst not in the same tax bracket, could probably offer similar amounts of gold. If it was as simple as just throwing gold at someone until you taught them, then why didn't every Slytherin and Pureblood child have the ability to use wandless magic?
What made Draco so special?
A little-known fact about Hogwarts Professors, or, more specifically, Heads of Houses.
They can search a student's belongings without their knowledge. You don't have to inform the student or their parents, you can just nip down to the dormitories and look through everyone's belongings, without them any the wiser. It was a measure implemented roughly five hundred years ago when some fool child had brought a Cursed Object into the Hufflepuff dorms and nearly killed every student there.
Heads of Houses tended not to do this, though; it sowed resentment and distrust in students, making them believe that the Professors didn't respect them enough to give them the privacy they deserved.
In Slytherin House, however, a Head of House doing that would basically be a slap in the face not just to the student, but to the family as well. Slytherin's prided themselves on their ingenuity, their cunning, and their ability to move around unseen. If it ever got to the point where a student had to be searched, it meant that they had failed every core tenement of their House. The political implications were dangerous, and it could end very badly for all parties involved.
But in this case, Severus Snape had no choice.
A day before the School year, Luciius had come to him, worried to death about Draco. He had talked about how Draco had been laid up for almost two weeks after the Dark Lord had punished him, and when he had come to, his son had barely even recognized him. He lamented about how Draco wouldn't even meet his and Narciss'as eyes anymore, preferring to eat in his room, only conversing with the House Elfs and tending the peacocks. He fretted about how his son was spending more and more time in their private Library, sneaking in during the dead of night, researching books about death, rebirth, and reincarnation.
And he had come to him with a specific worry in mind.
About a month ago, another two weeks after Draco had recovered, he had taken one of the Elf's with him and gone to Gringott's, where almost a sizeable amount of golden was missing. Not even a quarter of a quarter of their wealth, but still substantial enough that Lucius knew it wasn't for anything Draco usually bought.
Draco had sent this money off with a letter, and it had taken their owl a week to come back, with the poor thing exhausted, ragged piece of paper in his beak.
Two days before the students had come back to Hogwarts, a bird that he hadn't recognized had dropped something off for Draco, and the boy had hidden it immediately. Lucius knew that it wasn't Dark, thanks to the various charms around the house, but the man was well aware that with money involved, anything could be dangerous.
And when Severus had asked Lucius why he had not confronted his teenage son, as the man of his house?
Lucius snarled, a look of anger and disgust on his face.
"How can I ask him anything, after what he saw?" the man hissed. "He saw his father following after another man on his knees like a dog, constantly kissing the hem of his robes and begging for forgiveness. He saw his mother struck like a common Muggle when she begged for my release. And Draco did not beg. He pulled out his wand immediately and was struck down for trying to defend my wife, his mother.
"At that moment, Draco was more of a man than I was. He listens to me, of course, but he no longer hangs onto my words as if they were gospel. He no longer comes to me, asking for advice. He no longer spends time with me in my study, when the two of us would just come together and…be together, just father and son, basking in the other's presence."
Lucius looked at him, his eyes filled with anger and humiliation. "I don't know if I can try and command him, and find out that my son has lost any respect he ever had for me. I think such a thing may wound me more than any curse the Dark Lord may send my way."
Severus had watched Draco and had noticed the boy's tiredness, his lack of energy, and his more secretive demeanor.
He had also noticed how he went against Slytherin House, gaining enemies and losing allies every day, acting as if he was a slovenly Gryffindor rather than a proud Slytherin.
He noticed how despite all of this, things just seemed to be falling in place for Draco.
And he could hardly ignore it when a few nights ago, Pansy Parkinson came to him in tears, telling him in between sobs about how she caught Draco retching in a corridor, green and gold bile falling to the floor.
Recklessness, signs of toxic poisoning, overconfidence, and enough gold missing that it could cover three Firebolts…
After that, well, it was easy enough to realize what he was looking for. Despite his fame in the British Isles, he was not the only Potion Master in the world, and he wasn't even the best in Europe if they were being honest. One of the best, to be sure, but not the best. It would be easy for Draco to find one of those reputable names and put in a rush order. The potion needed six months to stew, but certain potioneers always kept some in stock, whether it be for themselves, or to sell for the highest bidder.
The potion was banned for Sporting events, which explained why Draco had quit the Quidditch Team. It was toxic in high doses, but for this potion, high doses basically meant anything more than a few tablespoons a month. The average wizard would use maybe a few drops a week.
Draco must've been using a few drops a day. He was dosing himself very carefully, but the effects were slowly building, and if he didn't take care, the boy would end up dead.
And despite his feelings for children in general…Draco was an exception to that rule.
He'd always been, ever since the first day they'd met, in that overly expensive hospital ward, Narcissa exhausted but smiling, and Lucius trusting him with something so precious, he could barely understand why.
So that was why he had to intervene now before it could get worse.
A knock on his dungeon door brought him out of his thoughts, and he calmed what few nerves he had with a small sigh.
It was time.
"Enter."
Draco Malfoy walked into the dungeon, looking thoroughly uncomfortable.
"Sir? Vincent Crabbe said you called for me-!"
When Draco caught sight of the flask in his hand, his already pale and sickly face turned a rather frightening shade of white.
And for good reason.
"Come and sit Draco, " he said with a drawl. "Perhaps you can enlighten me as to why you've been slowly poisoning yourself with Felix Felicis for several months now."
He gave the water bottle-sized flask in his hand a little shake, and the golden liquid inside splashed merrily, its owner looking at him with wide eyes.