Chapter 10
"Maybe you should play this year, Dray," Harry says.
Draco shakes his head. "I don't play Quidditch," he says. He doesn't, not anymore.
Crabbe screams. The flames swallow his body.
He sighs. "Alright," he says.
He smiles. "I like watching you play," he says. He's not even sure he ever liked playing Quidditch. He just wanted to make Harry angry and make his father proud. He only succeeded in one part of that. He's also not observant enough for it.
He hugs me. "Thanks again for the broom," he says.
Draco pats his back. Harry seems to like hugs. "Of course. I want you to have fun this year," he says.
He steps back. "I'll have fun if you're with me," he says.
"Har-"
"I meant in general. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to," he says.
Draco smiles. "Okay," he says.
They leave the hall and go to the potions classroom. Hermione and Ron walk behind them.
"Want to work together?" Harry asks.
"Sure. Don't mess it up," he says.
They sit together at one of the tables. Hermione and Ron sit beside them.
"Do you have to go to detention tonight?" he asks.
He nods. "Every night," he says, "Writing letters to obsessed fans of that git." He scowls.
Draco laughs.
He frowns. "You're mean. They made me go to Lockhart," he says, "Lockhart."
"You've mentioned. Not the worst detention you could have to do though. We went to the Forest last year and saw a unicorn die," he says. Bile bites into his throat. He swallows it down.
"I would rather go to the Forest or polish the medals and trophies. I'm used to that but responding to fan letters is annoying and narcissistic," he says.
"What do you mean you're 'used to that'?" he asks.
He shrugs.
"Okay, okay. I would prefer the Lockhart stuff but whatever," Draco says, "Just copy his signature and get it done."
He groans. "You would," he says.
"Let's get started," he says.
He plops his head onto the table. "Fine." He pulls his copy of the Wiggenweld potion recipe out.
Draco goes to the supply closet and get Flobberworm Mucus, Lovage, Scurvy Grass, and Sneezewort. He goes back to the cauldron. Harry has half the water heating already. He adds the Scurvy Grass then the Lovage then stir. They leave it for a moment, and he adds the Flobberworm Mucus and the other half of the water. Draco casts the Confundus Charm and bottles it for grading.
"You're done early," Snape says. Draco sets the potion bottle on his desk.
"I guess a bit. I just know the recipe well," he says. He made it a lot in school its useful and easy.
He turns back to his papers.
"Do not let Potter have any of the potions," he says.
Draco laughs and turns back to the tables. He sits at his cauldron with Harry. He bottles the excess potion and spells it to his bedside table.
"Why do we have so much homework already?" Harry asks. He sits in the library with his head on a table.
"Well, I think it's to torture you," Draco says. He writes on his parchment.
He groans. "I knew it," he says.
Draco laughs. "Did you do the summer homework?"
He shakes his head and turns away. "Not all of it," he whispers.
"Har, did something happen?" he asks.
He shrugs. "My guardians would not allow me for a while, so I had a lot to catch up on when Ron got me," he says.
"What do you mean?" he asks. He knew they sucked but not even allowing homework is insane.
"Ron got me toward the end of the Summer. It's nothing to worry about. I caught up some." He messes with his quill.
"If you ever need help, let me know." He kind of want to go fight the idiot muggles. Everything he's heard makes them worse.
He nods. "What is Lockhart's assignment even for? His favorite color?" he asks.
Draco shrugs. "He's narcissistic," he says. He writes an insult and spells it to blend with the paper. Lockhart will never see it, but he'll know it's there and that's enough.
"I hear they're starting a dueling club," someone whispers.
Draco rolls his eyes. Another project the blonde git messed up with his lack of ability.
"We have Defense today," Harry says. He flops onto Draco's shoulder. "I have to see that git even longer."
He laughs. "Poor Harry. I'm sure you'll be able to survive though." Draco cannot believe he ever thought Gilderoy Lockhart and Harry were the same.
"At least I have a break from him with Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall," he says.
Draco ruffles his hair. "Good luck, golden boy. See you in Defense."
"Golden boy?" he asks.
"See you later." Draco leaves the library.
Draco walks to the fields in his regular robes. Lara taps his shoulder.
"Hey, Draco," Lara says.
"Hello," he says.
"How are you getting out of flying today?" She smiles.
Draco points to Pansy and Blaise.
"What?" Pansy asks.
"You're getting me out of this," he says.
"We are?" Pansy asks.
"Blaise, Pansy, I need you two to mess around and a nonlethal spell will hit me," he says. He will not get on a broom.
Pansy and Blaise look at each other.
"Isn't that a bit extreme?" Pansy asks.
"I can make sure that it doesn't hurt me," he says. He's been practicing his shield charms.
"Would it be so bad to fly?" Blaise asks.
Draco pulls an exaggerated pout. "Please," he says.
"Okay, weirdo," Pansy says.
"Thank you. I will come up with a better solution later," he says. He needs find a disease that affects people who fly on brooms. It has to be a thing.
They start with an argument and then throw spells at each other. Draco stands in front of Lara. Until he is thrown off his feet.
"Oh, Merlin, Draco," Pansy yells.
He sits up. The ground warbles under him.
"Draco?" Blaise asks.
Draco grunts.
"Oh, you do not look well," he says.
"What happened?" Madam Hooch asks.
"What spell did you use? I've never felt anything like that," Draco says. His brain is racing, and the world is fluctuating around him.
"Not sure. It's like both spells combined and hit you," Pansy says, "We didn't even mean to hit you."
Draco shrugs "Works," he says.
"I will escort Mister Malfoy to Madame Pomfrey. You clean your brooms," Hooch says.
She helps him up. His body sways but Madame Hooch doesn't say anything so he actually might not be. She supports him on his way to the infirmary. Hooch tells Madame Pomfrey what she knows and goes back to class. Draco sits on a bed and tries to decide if it would help if he laid down.
Madame Pomfrey walks to him. "I only need to see Miss Granger to finish off the set."
"We're just doing you a favor. Without us, you would be sitting in here doing nothing all day. Wouldn't that be unfortunate?" His words slur together, and his mouth sticks on syllables.
"There are plenty of students in this school who get sick," she says. She smiles softly.
"Yes, but that is boring, so we get some excitement into your daily life." He blinks but it makes him feel worse when he opens his eyes.
She chuckles. "Yes. Thank you so much for that," she says.
"Anytime," he says.
She waves her wand and walks around him. "How are you feeling?" she asks.
He looks around the room. "Wriggly."
"Like you want to wriggle?" she asks.
He shakes his head. That makes the room slosh. "The room is wriggly." He tries not to gag.
She sighs. "That is problematic. Can you describe it more precisely?"
she asks.
"Everything is moving side to side but if I move it move with me, but I can see it," he says, "I also feel nauseous."
She nods. "Lay down," she says.
Draco lays down and closes his eyes. The darkness behind his eyes still moves.
"I've seen this before," she says, "Sometimes when two spells hit at the same time the symptoms combine in strange ways. I have some medicine and then you should rest."
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," he says.
She sighs. "It's my job but it would be appreciated if you and your group would stop getting hurt," she says.
He grimaces. "I'll try," he says. Not hard but he will try.
She helps him sit up. She pours a bottle down his throat.
It creeps back up his throat.
She pushes him back to lie down.
"Why does it taste like that?" Draco asks. It's like burnt toast.
She smiles. "To discourage you from coming back," she says, "You can go after your next class."
Draco wrinkles his nose. That is discouraging. He lays down until Defense. When he opens his eyes, the world is no longer pulsating. He stands from the bed and walks through the infirmary.
"Be careful, Mister Malfoy," Madam Pomfrey says, "I don't want to see you here again."
Draco waves and walks out the door. He goes to the Defense classroom. A small kid with a camera, Creepy or something, talks at Harry.
"Did something happen?" he asks. He wraps an arm around Harry's shoulders.
Harry turns his face to him. "He wants a picture of me," he says.
Draco laughs. "Giving out signed pictures? Can I get one?" he asks.
Ron laughs.
"It would be worth the whole Burrow," he says.
Ron punches my arm.
Draco laughs. "C'mon, Harry, give the audience what they want."
He groans and ducks his head. "Draco," he whines.
Draco laughs.
"Colin Creevey," the small person says. He puts a hand out.
Draco takes his hand and shakes it. "Draco Malfoy," he says. He was actually close with his name guess.
"You're the student who took a long time to sort," he says.
Draco frowns and nods. That's what he's known for?
"Ah, are we taking pictures? How about one of both of us?" Lockhart asks.
Draco steps away from Harry and Lockhart steps into his spot. Harry frowns at Draco.
Colin nods fast. He snaps a picture. "Thank you," he says. He holds the picture out.
Lockhart signs it and shoves it into Harry's chest. His head drops and he signs it too.
Draco snickers and they enter the Defense classroom.
Lockhart stops Harry and whispers in his ear. His face flushes darker red. Lockhart goes to the front of the room and Harry sits by Draco.
"What did he say?" he asks.
"He seems to think I am obsessed with being as famous as him. He keeps giving me advice," he says, "He said I shouldn't give out signatures so early in my career."
Draco laugh into his sleeve. "You've been famous for 11 years, so it isn't that early," he says. He winks.
Harry buries his head in his arms. "You're a git," he says.
"There's only enough room in your heart for one blonde git. Either me or Lockhart," he says.
Harry groans. "I hate you both," he says.
"Aw, does that mean I'm not getting a signed photo?" he asks.
Harry ignores him.
Draco takes the papers from Ron and sets one in front of Harry's crumbled form. He takes one. Harry sits up and reads the paper. His jaw drops. He glares at the professor.
Hermione fills out the answers quickly. Ron stares with a scowl.
"What is this?" Ron asks.
"A quiz," he says. On the paper they wrote on the professor who assigned a book about him.
"It's all in his books," Hermione says.
"It's all personal questions about his life," Harry says.
Hermione sighs. "It's easy if you had read," she says.
Draco shakes his head. "Just don't do it," he says.
"Won't he drop our grade?" Ron asks.
He shrugs. "Copy mine," he says. He writes the answers and holds the parchment out for them to read.
They fill their answers in, and they pass them forward.
Lockhart brings out pixies. He opens the door to the cage.
"Okay, now we just have to get them back into the cage," he says.
He throws spells but they miss the pixies going around the room. Students run to their next class and duck away from his throw charms.
"Why don't you slow them?" Draco asks.
He nods. "Good you've got this Mister Malfoy, Miss Granger, Mister Potter, and Mister Weasley," he says. He leaves.
Harry and Ron stare open mouths.
"Oh. He wants us to learn," Hermione says.
Harry and Ron glare at her and then turn to me.
"Sorry for giving suggestions," he says.
They freeze the pixies and bring them to their cage and cover it with the blanket to get them to calm down. Draco attempts a couple times to talk to them but, while they can understand, they ignore him.
"He's such a git. He couldn't even complete his own assignment," Harry mutters.
"I see he is the one true blonde git." He clutches his chest.
Harry rolls his eyes. "You both are gits."
"You keep talking about him though," Draco says.
Harry huffs. "You're the worst," he says.
Draco shrugs and laughs.
They file out of the room to the hall.
"He's such a good teacher, giving us practical experience," Hermione says.
"He's a git," Ron says, "He left us to do it because he couldn't."
Hermione shakes her head. "You just don't understand him," she says.
Draco rolls his eyes and rubs his temple. They all have their faults. Ron and Harry can't think ever. Hermione forgets how thinking works when a pretty man is involved. He's the brains of the operation. He cannot comprehend how they survived the first time.