“…as it seems is the tradition at our school, we have a new Defense Against The Dark arts teacher. Please welcome, Professor Lucius Malfoy.”
From his seat, Draco fainted.
The infirmary had never been a favorite place of Draco’s. He didn’t like that clean, stark, medicinal smell or the too-white sheets. The creepy jars full of various parts of animals revolted him, and he didn’t exactly have nice memories of this place. Every time he’d been sent in here it was because of bloody Potter. Plus, Madame Pomfrey wasn’t too nice to him. I mean, he’d fainted – poor him – and all she’d given him was some foul tasting drink for the concussion on his head.
He rolled over on his side and checked the alarm clock. It was past one and he still couldn’t go to sleep; he had too many things running around his head. He looked out of the window and tried to count the billions of stars, but for every star that he saw, a new question popped into his head. Why had he not been told his father would be teaching here? In fact, why was his father teaching here at all? God know he loved the man, but seeing him for three months in the summer and a few weeks in the winter was enough, thank you very much. He didn’t need him around all the time. He shifted positions again and closed his eyes. He tried to do a technique an old…friend of his had taught him. Try to listen to every sound, every sensation surrounding you. He could hear the gentle swish of the waves from the lake meeting the shore. The soft, gentle feel of the wind coming in through the open windows and blowing on his face, totally unnoticeable had he not been concentrating on it. The soft snoring of someone in the castle, the feel of cotton under his fingers, the sound of…giggling. Giggling? He opened his eyes and looked around. It stopped for a while and for a second Draco thought maybe he was imagining things. But then he heard it again, louder. He got up and propped himself up on his shoulders, trying to sense the source of the giggling. He heard footsteps too, getting louder. When he sensed that they were right outside the infirmary door he dropped back down onto the pillow like a bag of potatoes and pretended to be asleep.
“Well, I don’t know what happened, do I? If I did, I wouldn’t be asking you!” hissed a voice, undoubtedly Madame Pomfrey’s.
“Hahaha. I like pie!” said another voice, of a young girl that sounded quite familiar.
“Where did you find her?” asked someone else. It sounded like Dumbledore.
“Hagrid brought her in. He found her in the middle of the forest.”
“The forest! Hahaha! Forests rock. Whee!”
“Was she like this when Hagrid found her?”
“No. She was passed out. She only awoke when he entered the school doors.”
“Doors. I like doors. Doors are all flat. And woody. Hehe! Woody! How many woods can a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?”
They walked right inside the infirmary and Draco turned around quickly, and breathed deeply as if he was asleep.
“Just put her to bed,” said Dumbledore. “Give her something to make her sleep and we’ll deal with this in the morning.”
“Yes, Professor,” said Madame Pomfrey.
Draco heard a few footsteps and then Madame Pomfrey spoke again.
“Why him, Albus? Why Lucius Malfoy?” At the mention of his father’s name, Draco strained his ears trying to hear the response.
“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand your question, Poppy,” said Dumbledore.
“What I mean is,” she paused, “well it doesn’t really matter. Goodnight Professor.”
Draco expected to hear a response, but there were a few more footsteps and then a few more seconds of silence. Then he heard what sounded like a drink being poured into a glass.
“Drink up,” said Madame Pomfrey, before shutting off the lights and leaving the room. Curious to know who the seemingly drunk girl was, he slowly turned around on the pretense that he was merely turning in his sleep – in case Madame Pomfrey was still in the room. He slowly opened his eyes and almost fell of the bed in shock. For the girl in the bed right next to him, head tilted towards the ceiling, angelic face dappled in the moonlight, was Ginny Weasley.
From his seat, Draco fainted.
The infirmary had never been a favorite place of Draco’s. He didn’t like that clean, stark, medicinal smell or the too-white sheets. The creepy jars full of various parts of animals revolted him, and he didn’t exactly have nice memories of this place. Every time he’d been sent in here it was because of bloody Potter. Plus, Madame Pomfrey wasn’t too nice to him. I mean, he’d fainted – poor him – and all she’d given him was some foul tasting drink for the concussion on his head.
He rolled over on his side and checked the alarm clock. It was past one and he still couldn’t go to sleep; he had too many things running around his head. He looked out of the window and tried to count the billions of stars, but for every star that he saw, a new question popped into his head. Why had he not been told his father would be teaching here? In fact, why was his father teaching here at all? God know he loved the man, but seeing him for three months in the summer and a few weeks in the winter was enough, thank you very much. He didn’t need him around all the time. He shifted positions again and closed his eyes. He tried to do a technique an old…friend of his had taught him. Try to listen to every sound, every sensation surrounding you. He could hear the gentle swish of the waves from the lake meeting the shore. The soft, gentle feel of the wind coming in through the open windows and blowing on his face, totally unnoticeable had he not been concentrating on it. The soft snoring of someone in the castle, the feel of cotton under his fingers, the sound of…giggling. Giggling? He opened his eyes and looked around. It stopped for a while and for a second Draco thought maybe he was imagining things. But then he heard it again, louder. He got up and propped himself up on his shoulders, trying to sense the source of the giggling. He heard footsteps too, getting louder. When he sensed that they were right outside the infirmary door he dropped back down onto the pillow like a bag of potatoes and pretended to be asleep.
“Well, I don’t know what happened, do I? If I did, I wouldn’t be asking you!” hissed a voice, undoubtedly Madame Pomfrey’s.
“Hahaha. I like pie!” said another voice, of a young girl that sounded quite familiar.
“Where did you find her?” asked someone else. It sounded like Dumbledore.
“Hagrid brought her in. He found her in the middle of the forest.”
“The forest! Hahaha! Forests rock. Whee!”
“Was she like this when Hagrid found her?”
“No. She was passed out. She only awoke when he entered the school doors.”
“Doors. I like doors. Doors are all flat. And woody. Hehe! Woody! How many woods can a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?”
They walked right inside the infirmary and Draco turned around quickly, and breathed deeply as if he was asleep.
“Just put her to bed,” said Dumbledore. “Give her something to make her sleep and we’ll deal with this in the morning.”
“Yes, Professor,” said Madame Pomfrey.
Draco heard a few footsteps and then Madame Pomfrey spoke again.
“Why him, Albus? Why Lucius Malfoy?” At the mention of his father’s name, Draco strained his ears trying to hear the response.
“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand your question, Poppy,” said Dumbledore.
“What I mean is,” she paused, “well it doesn’t really matter. Goodnight Professor.”
Draco expected to hear a response, but there were a few more footsteps and then a few more seconds of silence. Then he heard what sounded like a drink being poured into a glass.
“Drink up,” said Madame Pomfrey, before shutting off the lights and leaving the room. Curious to know who the seemingly drunk girl was, he slowly turned around on the pretense that he was merely turning in his sleep – in case Madame Pomfrey was still in the room. He slowly opened his eyes and almost fell of the bed in shock. For the girl in the bed right next to him, head tilted towards the ceiling, angelic face dappled in the moonlight, was Ginny Weasley.
To Be Continued.
Dutchess LC is the author of 4 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 2 members. Members who liked Carpe Diem also liked 146 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 2 members. Members who liked Carpe Diem also liked 146 other stories.
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