|
Chapter One of One
Hallucinations “Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy? Mr. Malfoy!” Severus Snape’s voice boomed out across the classroom. The student in question, due to his lack of response; didn’t jerk upright, or let out an exclamation. Instead he lazily lolled his head to the side and looked at his professor with opaque eyes. “Hmm? Oh I thought you were my cat asking me for ranch.” The vague voice didn’t settle Snape’s annoyance. Draco Malfoy didn’t particularly seem worried on that account, or even aware that he should be very worried. Even with normally playing favorites-sleeping in his class was inexcusable! If the boy thought he could get away with such cheek then he was in for a rude awakening. “You do not have a cat here at Hogwarts.” Snape wanted desperately to unleash his full anger, but house pride made him settle instead for crisp lines. “No. I had to leave him at the manor. Father said an owl would be more useful. I thought about smuggling him and a broomstick in during my first year, but had an image of my cat on the broom, and rather thought Father would kill me,” Draco rambled. The Gryffindor side of the room giggled at this, but contained themselves at Snape’s glare. “Quite probable. Lucius never has encouraged free thought or disobedience. Which begs me to ponder, what made you think you could sleep in my class?” “I wasn’t sleeping…I think I halliuset-hallecen-hallucinated.” “Why would you think that?!” “I don’t feel very well.” And looking closer, Snape realized he didn’t look very well either. The eyes were slightly over-bright, as though he had stared unblinkingly for an hour. Since he had had his eyes closed and his head resting on his arms, it was correctly assumed that not blinking had indeed not been the cause. The normally pale cheeks had a slight flush to them as well. “Why didn’t you go see Madame Pomfrey?” “I didn’t did I?” Wide eyed and straightening up, Draco looked about him with dark eyes that didn’t seem to really recognize what he was looking at. This time the Gryffindors laughed out right. Ron had to place an arm against his chair to stop himself from falling over. “Do I look like Madame Pomfrey?” He immediately regretted the question as Draco squinted up his eyes at him. When that didn’t work, he tilted his head to the side, and when he couldn’t turn his head an farther, flipped himself over, balancing precariously with his hands on his chair’s seat and body quivering. He couldn’t see all of the Professor though, because the table blocked his view. He shuffled forward on his hands, and then dipped down off the edge of the chair, so his head was almost to the floor. “If you squint, you kind of look like her. But the nose would have to go.” “You are doing more than squinting, and if you don’t put yourself arights you will not need to go to Pomfrey’s. I will kill you,” Snape said as he walked back to his desk to search for the medical passes. They never were close to hand, as most people jumped at the chance to not even arrive in his class if they could help it. “Professor Snape likes me best.” Draco had turned to the closest person, and whispered confidentially. Or at least tried to whisper. His throat was sore, and it turned out more like a loud croak. The boy in question, two seats away, raised two black brows; the right one creating a wrinkle in the prominent scar there. Then he smirked at his nemesis and whispered just as loudly back. “He doesn’t really you know. I heard him tell Professor McGonagall that you were an annoying, blithering idiot that should be thrown out of his class before he snaps. He just pretends so your father won’t try and make trouble.” Harry thought it was a rather clever thing to say. It didn’t matter that everyone knew it wasn’t true. It was funny because it directly contradicted Draco’s childishly convicted statement, just as childishly. The giggling died off and Harry’s smirk did also as Draco’s lower lip began to tremble and two huge tears welled up in his eyes before sliding quickly down his cheeks. “He doesn’t! He di-didn’t! You’re lying!” Draco wrapped his arm around his stomach as though it quite recently became painful. His head dipped down, and the class watched on in fascination as more tears fell, landing on the soft plains of his robe. Finally the silence was broken with a stifled sob. Then, “He didn’t really? Did he?” “Er, no. No, he didn’t. I’m sorry I said that, er, Malfoy.” “I’m s-sorry too, P-P-Po’er.” Draco managed though his breath hitched. “For?” He had, at the very least, had apologized, properly. Now it was Malfoy’s turn. “For-for saying your family was-wasn’t very smart. Or the mudblood’s family should be killed. Or Ron’s mum is fat. They’re all true, but you’re not supposed to say things like that.” “You’re not supposed to say that huh?” “Oh no!” “Professor Snape?” “What! Where are the blasted-“ “Do you think someone slipped Malfoy and age rescinding potion? And maybe he reacted badly? Is he sensitive to lionfish?” “Fetch him some of that blue vial, top shelf, three to the right past the window.” Harry jumped up. Apparently Snape was getting frustrated with the search for a pass note. He was looking at Malfoy as though hoeing the boy was incapacitated enough to agree to putting the note on his forehead. It apparently became moot as Draco’s antidote seemed to cool the inner fever and return his senses to him. He had approximately three second of relief before his face flamed up again; in embarrassment. “Potter!” His voice sounded squeaky. With a throat clear he tried again. “Potter? When did I find my way to your lap?” “About the time you thought you should inform me that it had been rude of you to actually share your opinion on the abundance of life Hermione’s parents indulge in.” “Oh. Well then. Seems I said my point. I’ll just be returning back to my seat now.” Malfoy stood, then swayed right back down with his pert little bum on Harry. “Ah, back so soon. Did you forget someone you wanted to backhandedly insult?” “Oh, kill me now. It seems I can’t walk.” “That must be very sad. Why did you think sitting in my lap would help you with that?” “Shut it Potter. Just shut it. And scoot over a little bit, I want to fit my elgs under the table. Yes, thanks.” “Planning on sitting here for awhile then?” “I can’t walk. And I’m not being carried. So here it is. Lend me a parchment for notes?” “I’m not sure your antidote worked Professor.” “Ten points from Gryffindor for cheek. Are you comfortable Mr. Malfoy?” “As well as can be expected thank you.” “Who here knows…” Sometimes I scare myself with my inability to commit to anything longer than this. Oh well… back? |