Chapter Five
Severus and Pomfrey decided to move him to a private room near the infirmary. The room had a secret passage providing easy access to the infirmary and Severus's accommodations. It was a small, simple room; there was a four-poster bed, similar to those in the dormitories, with scarlet curtains. The only piece of furniture separating the bed from the wall was a dark wooden bedside table. A window beside the bed offered a view of the Forbidden Forest. There was also a double-door wardrobe with a mirror inside one of them, a small writing desk, and a shag rug of an indeterminate colour beside the bed. His trunk was placed at the foot of the bed, and there was also an attached bathroom and an empty bookcase, which hid the secret passage.
Draco was sitting on the bed, looking out the window at the forest, the book open to chapter five in his lap. It was already night, the first snowfall had begun to fall during the day, covering the floor with a white carpet and indicating that autumn would soon come to an end and give way to winter. Draco wanted to go out and walk in the snow, he wanted to lie in it and make a snow angel, he wanted to make a snowman. He loved the snow. Being locked in this room was tiring him out and making him more and more discouraged.
He let out a sigh, looking down at the book on his lap. Suddenly, the bookshelf moved, revealing the secret passage. Draco looked up sharply, seeing Potter standing there, staring at him, visibly surprised.
— Malfoy? — he asked in confusion.
— What are you doing here, Potter!? — Draco retorted, irritated.
— What are you doing here? — Harry replied, equally confused.
— I… — Draco frowned, looking around.
What was he doing there again? What room was that? Why wasn't he in his Slytherin dormitory? And why were your things there?
— I...That's none of your business! Get out of here!
— From what I know, you shouldn't be here either. What's going on? You've been in the infirmary since the beginning of the year and now, suddenly, appears here?
— Potter, get out of here before I call a teacher! — he almost shouted.
— And you think nothing will happen to you? — Harry teased, a mischievous smile appearing on his face.
— GO TO HELL, POTTER! — Draco picked up the book and threw it towards the dark-haired boy, who dodged behind the bookshelf.
— Good Heavens! Alright, Malfoy! Good night to you too! — he closed the passage.
Draco let himself fall backwards, hitting his back on the pillow propped up against the headboard of the bed, letting out a tired sigh. He should go back to his dormitory. It wouldn't do for him to be caught out of bed at this hour. Whatever time it was.
He got out of bed, the feeling of his bare feet touching the plush carpet was pleasantly comforting. He walked over to the bookshelf, picked up the book from the floor, and checked the cover, concerned that he hadn't damaged anything. Pansy would kill him if he ruined her favorite book.
He stuck his head out of the room, checking if there was anyone around. Seeing that everything was safe, he left, walking slowly through the corridors. He couldn't be too far from the dungeons. All he had to do was stay silent and be careful that no teacher would catch him. It was at times like these that he most wished he had an Invisibility Cloak like Potter. Draco had always wondered where Scar Head had gotten one of these. And how he had the money to pay for one. Although Draco believed that, as the sole Potter heir, he had a good fortune. Not like his, obviously, but certainly a fortune.
A draft of cold air made Draco look up from the ground. Looking around, he saw the forest right in front of him. His feet were hurting from stepping directly on the snow and his body was shaking from the winter cold, condensed air coming out of his mouth from his uneven breathing. He continued to stare at the forest, that darkness chilling his spine. That wasn't the woods behind his house.
Heavy footsteps and a huge shadow blocking the moonlight made Draco turn around sharply.
— Malfoy! — the imposing voice of a bearded giant, with long hair and hunter's clothes, called him. — What are you doing here at this hour? In this cold!
Draco froze in place, his eyes wide with fear, his shoulders tense, hugging the book tightly to his chest.
— Come on, boy, get out of this cold! I'm going to get Snape. You're going to get in trouble.
Draco was practically dragged by the giant to the old hut by the shoulder. The giant only let go of his shoulder when they entered the old, dirty hut, the giant standing outside.
— Has the cat got your tongue? — asked the man, his voice a little softer now.
Draco swallowed hard.
— Who… Who are you…?
Draco was taken back to that room by uncle Sev. He had said that Draco was sick, and that was why he was there, but that didn't explain why he wasn't in his own house. When challenged about this, Uncle Sev simply replied that he would recover better at Hogwarts.
That still didn't make sense. If he was that sick, why wasn't he taken to St. Mungo's? When Draco tried to question again, Severus changed the subject. When Draco complained that he wanted to see his father and mother, Uncle Sev simply suggested that he write them a letter, assuring them that they would be very happy to receive it.
Draco didn't argue anymore, he just lay down on the bed and slept, a feeling of exhaustion in his chest, as if he hadn't slept in days.
Now, he looked at the dark forest in the middle of the snow. The moon was bright outside, illuminating the snow-covered grass and part of his room. Draco didn't like that room. It was cold and dark and far from his uncle's room. Draco had asked to sleep with his uncle Sev, but he had said that this room was better and that he had everything he needed in his trunk.
He didn't remember having that trunk.
He sat on the shag rug for a long time, rummaging through the things that were there, taking them out and scattering them on the floor. There were clothes that he didn't recognize, including Slytherin uniforms. He had never been to Hogwarts, so why were these things there? He also found textbooks that he found hideous and parchment full of notes that, although they were written in his handwriting, he didn't remember writing. And even after much rummaging, he couldn't find Fury, his black stuffed dragon. He never slept without him, especially not outside the house.
He wanted to go to his uncle Sev's bed, lie down next to him and sleep with him.
His eyes filled with tears. He hated that place, he wanted to go home, to his room, and sleep in his bed with his stuffed dragon.
Draco sniffed, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his pajamas. The empty bookshelf was dragged aside, revealing a messy head of black hair. Draco looked at the boy with the most beautiful and bright green eyes he had ever seen. Who was that handsome boy staring at him?
Potter.
The name came to his head along with a strange feeling of anger and anguish. A strange anguish.
— So you live here now? — the boy asked him, looking him up and down. — Better than the infirmary.
— Get out of here!
— Still nervous, Malfoy? — he gave Draco a mocking smile, part of his small body still hidden behind the bookshelf.
— Get out of here! Or I'll call Uncle Sev!
The boy frowned.
— "Uncle Sev"?
Draco picked up the heavy, thick book that was on the bedside table and threw it in the boy's direction. The stranger hid behind the bookshelf.
— Good night, Malfoy! — and he closed the passage.
Draco stood there staring at the bookshelf. He didn't understand the reason for his actions, but having the dark-haired boy's attention completely focused on him made the feeling of anger diminish and the anguish be replaced by joy and satisfaction.
Letting out a sigh, he lay down, pulling the covers higher and hugging the pillow. Draco stared at the starry sky through the window, too uncomfortable to sleep, until, eventually, tiredness overcame him and he managed to fall asleep.
— Draco. — Snape warned.
The blond boy continued to refuse to look at him, playing with one of the corners of the blanket. Snape let out a tired sigh.
— Draco, I need you to drink the potion.
— I want to go home! — he said in a sullen tone.
— We’ve already talked about this. You can write to your parents, but you need to stay here. At least until you get better.
— I don’t want to write a letter, I want to go home! I’m fine! I don’t feel sick! — Draco glared at him.
Snape had to take a deep breath. He remembered the sullen boy Draco could be when he was stubborn about something or when he didn’t feel comfortable with something or someplace. The boy knew what he wanted, he could never deny that, but now it was becoming annoying and tiring.
— I’m sorry, Draco, but that’s not going to happen. Even if you feel fine, you’re not ready to go home yet.
— Then ask mommy and daddy to come here!
— They can't, my boy. — Snape said, with regret.
— What!? Why!? — Draco's expression went from anger to sadness and then to frustration. He wanted to see his parents, why couldn't they visit him? His mother and father had stayed by his side the whole time at St. Mungo's when he had been very sick.
Draco wanted his parents. He wanted his father to read to him, for his mother to sit next to him and hold him, stroking his hair until he fell asleep, kissing her forehead affectionately as he wished her goodnight.
— It's complicated, boy. — Snape ran his hand through his messy, dirty blond hair.
Draco lowered his head and sniffed, holding back his tears as best he could. He didn't understand why Uncle Sev was keeping him there, away from home, hiding information and not letting his parents visit him. He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his black satin pajamas.
— I want Fury… — he said, his voice choked with the tears he was trying to hold back.
— Who?
— Fury, uncle Sev! — Draco raised his head, revealing his teary eyes, making them shine even brighter.
Snape stared at him, confused, until he remembered. Until not long before Draco went to Hogwarts, he had a stuffed dragon that was always on his bed and that Draco always slept hugging. Snape would even bet that the toy accompanied him in secret during his first year.
— You must have forgotten it at home, Draco.
The boy was silent. His uncle, for some reason, didn't seem to want to help him. Angry, he lay down on the bed, covering himself up to his head and turning his back to his uncle.
— Draco, please…
— No! Leave me alone!
He heard Snape let out a tired sigh, followed by footsteps and the sound of the door being closed, leaving Draco alone in that room again.
Draco hated being alone. He was always very sociable, he always had someone to talk to, and when he didn't, he spent his time talking to one of the house elves. But here, in this cold room, in this isolated and gigantic castle, he had no one to talk to.
And he hated it.
ANOTHER FANFICTION(S):
The Phoenix Fire - Harry Potter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60382195
Ao Amanhecer - Avatar: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47670538