Chapter 5
Lucius Malfoy
If there was anything Lucius Malfoy couldn’t stand, it was feeling helpless. He hadn’t felt this way in in a long time, at least until the Second Wizarding War had started. Then everything had spiralled out of control and he had found himself in a situation in which he had had no way of keeping the only two people in the world that had ever truly mattered to him safe: His wife and his son.
That had been one of the reasons he and Narcissa had decided to actively go against Voldemort and support the Order of the Phoenix. The other reason was more complex, of course, and had started with the realisation that they didn’t hate Muggles and muggle-born wizards and witches enough to condone Voldemort’s methods during the First War. When this realisation had come, it had been too late. You didn’t just leave the Death Eaters once you had joined them and it had been a relief when Voldemort had been defeated by a toddler and a shock when the Dark Mark had suddenly flared up again.
When the Battle of Hogwarts had come, Voldemort had almost managed to get the upper hand over Harry Potter, but Lucius had decided to drop all pretence then and had interfered, stopping him from killing the boy, and they had won. And it had seemed that what he and his family had done had saved them from the worst consequences, and it had. But Draco had understandably struggled with the aftermath of the War and neither Lucius nor Narcissa had thought it wise to tear him away from his family and make him go back to school. But again, he had not been able to change that.
Draco telling them that he had been bitten by Greyback had been another blow. No, it did not change his feelings for his son, although his own father would have reacted very differently. But it would make things so much harder for Draco at school and Lucius wanted nothing more than to spare him that. He could only hope that the new Headmistress, a woman he had respected even as a student, would make sure his son was doing as well as possible.
In the first week of his absence, Draco had written quite regularly. They had learned that he had his own room, which was good during the full moon, that Headmistress McGonagall had made sure everyone who needed it could see a mind-healer, which came as quite a relief. They hadn’t been able to allow Draco to see one, locked up as they were. Maybe there was a bright side to all of this.
He and Narcissa had agreed that the letters had been altogether a little too positive and they both didn’t believe that he was doing quite as well as he described, but they hoped that he did get better and just exaggerated a little to put them at ease.
Then the letters had just stopped. They had continued to write to him, but there had been no reply. Considering Draco had almost begged them to write him often, that seemed odd and it had never taken Draco so long to reply to letters, not even in his early teenage years when a lot of young people didn’t prioritise correspondence with their parents.
If any of his friends had still been at Hogwarts, they would have written to them, but they weren’t and so Lucius now sat behind his desk to write to the Headmistress just to be sure he was alright, when suddenly there was a tap on the window.
He looked up and saw an Owl from Hogwarts. Not Draco’s eagle owl, unfortunately, but one of the school owls.
Not hearing from Draco for almost a week and then receiving post from the school instead of his son himself, did not bode well and Lucius took a deep breath before getting up and opening the window. The owl was dripping wet from the rainy weather, but he paid it no mind and removed the letter that was attached to its leg.
Lord Malfoy,
Lady Malfoy,
It is not really my place to write to you, but since you probably won’t hear from Draco until the end of the week, I would think you are worried. There was a potions accident on Monday and he’s in the Hospital Wing. He will be completely fine, so please don’t worry, but Madam Pomfrey wants to keep him there until at least Friday. I am sure he will write to you after his release.
Sincerely,
Hermione Granger.
The owl let out an angry hooting noise and he absentmindedly gave it an owl treat before it flew off. He closed the window.
Draco was hurt and if he had caused the accident, he had obviously not been well. Lucius himself was hopeless at potions, all kinds of magic had always come easy to him, but not potions and the subject didn’t interest him much either. Draco was very different. From an early age he had been fascinated by potions making and not just that, very early on he had wanted to understand how potions worked, how the different ingredients worked together and how people came up with altogether new potions. He had been lucky his godfather had been a talented potions master and Severus had taken joy in teaching him long before he had started at Hogwarts. If Draco had caused an accident in class, it was concerning.
The fact that Hermione Granger of all people had written to them was strange as well. Sure, she would be part of the small group who had earned the right to a more private room and common room, but he couldn’t imagine that she was interacting with Draco much. He knew his son had not treated her very well in their earlier school years, thanks to the way he had been raised, and Lucius himself had been rather rude to her on more than one occasion. Let alone that day in the Manor. He did not blame himself for that, he could not have interfered without risking his and his family’s lives and he would always choose his family over anyone and anything else, but he would have done something, if he could have. And he knew Draco did blame himself. Maybe his son was a better person than him.
With a heavy sigh, he sat down on his desk again and took his quill.
Miss Granger,
Thank you for letting us know. Both my wife and I truly appreciate that. Would you mind giving us some further details? What happened in class? How has Draco been doing before that? We haven’t heard from him in a while and this is unusual for him.
Sincerely,
Lucius Malfoy
He got up to send the letter and inform his wife.
Draco
For the first time in a long time Draco was starting to feel a little better. Madam Pomfrey made sure he took two Nourishment Potions a day in addition to three regular meals. He didn’t eat much still, which was also due to the fact that he had to get used to normal portions again, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t let him get away with eating nothing or next to nothing either. And it did help. So did sleep. The first night he had gotten Dreamless Sleep Potion, which he hadn’t taken since home, and he had had slept until noon. The medi-witch had told him, he would get another vial of the potion on Thursday night, until then they would have to make do without. To his surprise, Pomfrey slept in the Hospital Wing in one of the empty beds and when he woke up from a nightmare, she was there and on such occasions, the woman Draco had gotten to know as stern and rough around the edges was rather gentle and patient. For the first time since he had left the Manor, someone was there when he woke up at night, someone to help him to calm down and then fall back asleep instead of lying awake for hours, terrified of closing his eyes. So, yes, he did wake up at night, the nightmares didn’t miraculously go away, but he still got more sleep than he had in over two weeks.
And all that reflected in his health, physical and mental.
On Tuesday McGonagall and Granger came to visit and although he was initially shocked that Granger knew about his lycanthropy and even more so when he heard that she wanted to room with him, it now felt like somewhat of a relief. He wasn’t alone with the knowledge anymore and although it had been nice to have a room to himself at first, with no friends around and no one else to talk to, it had been lonely and isolating. It would be nice to have someone there to say more to than just the awkward “Good morning” and “Good night”. He could cast a silencing charm over his bed and close the canopy so he wouldn’t wake her up at night and if she was uncomfortable with his wolf form, the canopy would also help. Maybe it would work out.
Now it was Wednesday afternoon and he was actually looking forward to the visit his new house teacher, even if it made him a bit nervous. He had been looking up to that man for a long time. Of course he had read all of his books, more than once, and that many of the potions which were commonly used today had been invented or improved by him, spoke for itself. What Draco liked most about the books was that they weren’t just a collection of recipes, but contained a detailed description of how he had come up with the recipes in the first place. Severus had recommended the books to him after he had started to be interested in the working behind the recipes at nine or ten and while he had at first struggled to understand them, he had mastered it with his godfather’s help. He had learned so much from those books.
Having him as a teacher was exciting and Draco hadn’t been excited about anything for a long time. He just hoped that McNair wouldn’t judge him by the Mark on his arm or by the lesson notes Slughorn had taken on him.
Madam Pomfrey had told him that the teacher would come after dinner and while he had napped on and off in the morning, he felt rather bored in the afternoon. There was nothing for him to do, except for staring at the ceiling until he heard someone enter the Hospital Wing. He was far in the back, so he couldn’t see who it was, but it was too early for McNair. Maybe someone had been hit by a bludger or something.
“Miss Granger, how can I help you?”
Hermione Granger again?
“I was wondering, if I could see Draco for a moment.”
A pause. “No longer than 15 minutes. He’ll have another visitor today. And nothing too exciting!”
“Of course. Thank you!”
He heard her footsteps coming closer and then she came around the divider behind which his bed stood.
She smiled. Why had he never seen what a pretty smile she had? “Hi!” She lowered her voice. “Don’t get too excited or I’ll be thrown out.”
Draco caught himself grinning. “I’ll try,” he whispered back and then added a slightly louder “Hi”.
She sat down on the chair next to his bed and pulled something out of her bag. A book.
“I thought you might get bored.” She hesitated. “It’s a Muggle book, but it takes place in a fantasy world, so there’s no Muggle technology or anything in there that you might have trouble with. And I think it’s rather funny.”
He took the book from her outstretched hand. The title was “Guards! Guards!” by an author named Terry Pratchett and the comic-like cover did indicate a light, funny read. Exactly what he needed. While he did feel better, he didn’t feel quite like focusing on anything complicated yet. “Thank you! I’d love to read it. And I was getting bored, to be honest.”
Her smile widened. Maybe she had been nervous about proposing a Muggle book to him, but he found that he didn’t have it in him to care about such things anymore. The War had shown him what his old mind set could lead to and he never wanted to go back there again.
“How are you today?”
“Better. Surprisingly, getting some sleep and having regular meals does help.”
“Oh really? Wow, who would have thought?”
He gave her a crooked smile. “And how is it being out of your old room?”
She gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Heavenly!” Then the look on her face turned somewhat sheepish. “I put copies of my notes from class on your desk. So you can read up on what you’ve missed.”
“Thanks.” Why was she embarrassed about that? It was a nice gesture and would surely be a great help.
“You’re welcome. I couldn’t help but see your father’s letter, though.”
Oh shit, he had forgotten about that! He hadn’t written in a week. His parents would be beside themselves with worry. “Yeah, I kind of neglected to write to them for a while,” he admitted.
“Well, I kind of did.”
He looked at her in utter surprise. She had written to his parents?
“Nothing detailed! I promise! Just that there was an accident in potions and that you’re in the Hospital Wing until the end of the week, but that you will be just fine, so they won’t worry too much.”
She spoke very quickly now, obviously worried that he would be mad. He wasn’t. At least someone had made an effort to put them at ease. “Thank you. You’re right, they would have worried.”
“So you’re not mad?”
He smiled a little. “No, I should have written to them days before the accident. But it was … hard to do anything, let alone anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary.”
She nodded. “I’m sure they’ll understand. Well, there’s something else.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Your father wrote back.”
“What?”
Granger rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t act so shocked.” She pulled a letter out of her bag and handed it to him.
Miss Granger,
Thank you for letting us know. Both my wife and I truly appreciate that. Would you mind giving us some further details? What happened in class? How has Draco been doing before that? We haven’t heard from him in a while and this is unusual for him.
Sincerely,
Lucius Malfoy
Draco sighed. Of course they would want to know more.
“I didn’t want to answer that without talking to you first,” Granger said. “I mean, I don’t mind answering it, but I wouldn’t want to write anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
Why was that woman so bloody thoughtful when neither he nor his family had done anything to deserve it? “If you really don’t mind, I would be fine with you answering. Maybe don’t make it sound too terrible. It’s hard for them that they can’t help or even be there,” he added quietly.
She nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something. After all, you have discovered the secret to keep yourself alive. Eating, sleeping … it’s not like that’s something you just know. I’m sure they’ll be proud of you.”
He couldn’t help but laugh.
xxx
Shortly after, Madam Pomfrey came to make her leave and she brought his dinner, from which he dutifully ate as much as he could.
Shortly after, his next visitor came. Devon McNair himself. He had known how the man looked, of course. He had been in many articles in potions magazines, but his whole demeanour couldn’t have been more different from both Severus and Slughorn. He approached him with an open, genuine smile, shook his hand and introduced himself before sitting down on the chair Granger had abandoned a while ago.
“How are you?” He asked after introductions were out of the way.
“Much better, Sir, thank you.”
“Good to hear. Now we’ll have to make sure that it stays that way. Minerva … I mean Headmistress McGonagall told me that you have mind-healer appointments starting tomorrow.”
“That’s right.”
“I’d like to meet with you twice a week to begin with to see how you’re doing. You can tell me a little about your progress then. Nothing you’re not comfortable talking about, of course. I just want to make sure you’re alright. And class is neither the time nor the place for that.”
McGonagall had been right, that was worlds away to Slughorn’s attitude. “Alright. I appreciate you taking the time, Sir.”
“Of course I do. I didn’t expect to spend this year teaching, to be perfectly honest with you, but since I’m here, I intend to do it right and Slughorn’s behaviour was abominable. I never liked that man.”
“You know him?”
“A little. He thinks very highly of himself with very little reason, always leaching on the achievements of others.” He gave a short grin.
Draco had to agree, that sounded like Slughorn.
“Speaking of former teachers, I have read very different notes on your performance in class. If I hadn’t known better, I wouldn’t have thought they’re both about the same student.”
Draco nodded. Of course Slughorn’s notes weren’t favourable. “My performance this year has been … somewhat lacking, I suppose. And in sixth year … I had other things to worry about than focusing in class.”
“That’s understandable.” He actually looked like he understood. He had probably heard what had happened in sixth year. “And I want you to know that I don’t give a shit what Slughorn thought of you, pardon my French.” Draco gave a small smile at that. “I do, however, respect Severus Snape’s opinion. We never heard much of him in the potioneering circles, but when he did make a publication, it was always something significant. He thought much of you.”
Draco nodded. “He trained me in potions long before I started at Hogwarts. He was a close friend of my parents and my godfather.”
“I’m sorry.”
Draco nodded, not knowing what to say. He missed him every day.
“I will make up my own mind and I promise I will be fair. In fact, I have already formed a bit of an opinion. Someone who doesn’t even have his NEWTS yet and can brew a functioning Wolfsbane Potion, is nothing like Slughorn wrote.” At Draco’s surprised look, he continued. “The Headmistress told me that you brewed the potion yourself and will need more soon. Don’t worry, she didn’t tell Slughorn. I don’t think she trusted him enough. And your secret is safe with me. I’ll have the potion ready by the time you need it, so you can focus on your health and on school.”
“Thank you!” It was a relief. Brewing Wolfsbane was time consuming and he would indeed have to focus on getting better, both mentally and in class. Draco was naturally ambitious and he was unhappy with his performance lately.
“I want you to know that my door is always open to you, whenever you need something or just need someone to talk, please don’t hesitate to come.”
Draco just nodded. He didn’t know, if he would ever make use of that, but the fact that someone offered meant a lot.
“So, you said Professor Snape started teaching you potions early on. It looks like he did a good job when you brewed a Wolfsbane Potion at 17,” he said conversationally and leaned back in his chair, the formal part was apparently over.
“15. I brewed it the first time at 15. Just for practise.”
McNairs eyes widened slightly.
Devon McNair
“Slughorn is an idiot,” Devon opened the conversation in Minerva’s living room that evening.
“Oh really?” She asked with a sarcastic undertone as she poured them both a cup of tea.
“Yes, a complete fool who doesn’t recognize talent, if it slaps him in the face. That boy brewed Wolfsbane Potion at 15 for practice. He started reading my books before he even started Hogwarts. With Snape’s help, of course, but still. A child being interested enough to make the effort to understand what I’m writing about. Do you know how rare that is?”
“Well, I know that I never made enough effort to understand what you’re writing about. Not after the first failed attempt anyway.”
Devon grinned. He knew that all too well.
“He knew Severus before Hogwarts?”
“You didn’t know?” That came as a surprise.
Minerva shook her head. “Severus was … not very outgoing about his private live.” There was a sad undertone in her voice. He knew she had regrets when it came to Severus Snape. Until the end, she’d had no idea that he was actually doing what he could to protect the students and she had thought he was the enemy. They’d had a long conversation about that after the War.
“He was his godfather.”
“Oh dear.”
“Indeed. He’s still grieving him. He tried to hide it, but it showed.” He would have to make an effort to connect with him. He needed someone he could trust. And he already had an idea how to get through to him. He looked back at Minerva. “Well, due to his godfather, he started studying potions at around five. I talked to him for a while, he already made a few attempts on experimenting with new potions himself. Nothing serious, shortly after he started, Voldemort moved into his home and he had other concerns. But he has an unusually deep understanding of how ingredients work together. If he keeps it up, he’ll go places Slughorn can’t even dream of.”
“And I suppose you want to help him get there?”
“Maybe. We’ll see how it goes.”
Hermione
After spending some time with her friends in the common room, Hermione went into her new room and closed the door behind her.
Crookshanks lay on Draco’s bed, where she had already found him in the morning. “Crooks, you do know that’s not your bed, right?” He just purred and with a sigh, she went to her desk and pulled out a piece of parchment from her drawer.
Lord Malfoy,
Lady Malfoy,
Draco said he’s fine with me giving you a bit of an overview. I visited him earlier today and he’s feeling much better.
That said, your concerns weren’t completely unfounded. He wasn’t doing well, I suppose it was all a bit too much. He didn’t eat or sleep well and I’m not proud to say that my friends and I had very little contact with him except for the occasional greeting. You surely know that we were by no means friends before and it took as a while to warm up to the thought of him having changed.
I’m sorry about that now. We did see that he wasn’t doing well and should at least have talked to someone.
The house teachers are responsible for making sure everyone who needs it gets help and Professor Slughorn neglected that duty, at least when it came to Draco.
He was feeling particularly bad on Monday after full moon. Yes, I know about that, and I assure you, I will take that knowledge to my grave. Anyway, everyone could see that he wasn’t well. Still, Slughorn decided to be the terrible person he unfortunately is and when he touched him from behind, Draco suffered a panic attack. He fell, the cauldron tipped and the potion burned his lower body. As I said, he will be fine, to my best knowledge the burns are already healed.
Headmistress McGonagall was furious when she heard about everything. Slughorn was fired and we have a new potions master now. Draco actually seems quite enthusiastic about that. His name is Devon McNair. Apparently, he’s an accomplished potioneer, I didn’t really know him, to be honest, but Draco certainly does.
The Headmistress will personally make sure that Draco gets the help he needs and hopefully, his new house teacher will show more responsibility as well.
As for us, we will make an effort to include him more. He and I will actually room together now (it’s a long story, the gist of it is that I was unhappy with my roommate and the Headmistress thought it would be good for Draco to not be the only one to room alone). I hope it goes well. I visited him twice in the Hospital Wing and we got on surprisingly well. I agree with the Headmistress, it will probably do him good to have some company. I know it helped me after the War to have friends around.
Sincerely,
Hermione Granger
It wasn’t the most elegant letter she had ever written, but it was as good as it would get. It was weird to write to the Malfoys anyway, especially now that the letter was a bit longer than just a few lines.
She had also fought the urge to write something along the lines of “I hope you don’t mind me rooming with him”, but had decided against it. If they cared more about her blood status than their son’s well-being, that was their problem, not hers.
~tbc~