Harry Potter - foresight reawakened - ch16: bring wolfsbane
HP - foresight reawakened: (16) “bring Wolfsbane”
*
Draco took the Wolfsbane from Snape’s cupboard himself. He figured since he wasn’t the one using it, the trio would be blamed if the theft came to light. Besides, Draco, at least, had permission to take things from Snape’s cabinet. He had that permission because he was trustworthy and knew what he was doing, unlike a certain group of Gryffindors who, true to form, were whispering to one another and looking decidedly suspicious at supper. He knew tonight was the night they would go do whatever the foolish thing is they were planning. His visions were true, he knew that now. But he could change the future-and he would, just by standing up and making his way over to them. Now he only had to wait for the perfect opportunity…
There! They were leaving. Draco stood casually, straightening his long black school robe.
“Draco, you’ve hardly eaten!” Pansy objected, looking from him to his plate.
“Yes, where do you think you’re going?” Blaise spoke up from across the table. Draco didn’t know what his problem was.
“I’ll just be a minute,” Draco assured them, not that he had to. It was none of their business what he did, and even if it was, he wasn’t about to tell them what he planned would incense his father should he ever find out. Which, Draco realized just as he managed to get in front of the trio rushing out the doors, he would. Draco was in a room with all of Slytherin, as well as whatever other house members managed to see the light-Dark, rather-so of course his father would find out he was helping the Tiresome Trio.
It almost made Draco turn around and walk out the doors himself, walk all the way back to Slytherin and maybe go to bed early. Act shocked in the morning with the rest of the school when the announcement was made that Potter was a mongrel.
What stopped him was Potter’s smile: Potter smiled at him as the trio was walking past. And it was enough.
Draco palmed the Wolfsbane and, with the same hand, reached out and grabbed the front of Potter’s robes.
The Gryffindors stopped.
“What’s your problem, Ferret?”
“We’re a bit busy right now, Malfoy, but perhaps later-”
“Draco, what is it?” Whispered softly.
Like stars winking out one by one, conversations in the Great Hall slowly came to a stop as people noticed the confrontation.
“Potter,” Draco said imperiously.
Potter’s gaze hardened. “Malfoy, what do you want?”
“Yeah, what do you want, Malfoy?” The Weasel stepped up on Potter’s other side, blocking Draco from view of the Great Hall. Weasley’s hands were clenched into fists, and his eyes begged Draco to do anything, say anything, and just see what happened. Draco wasn’t in the mood; his reputation was once again being shot to hell, no thanks to this group of teenage terrorists.
“Sod off, Weasel.” Draco released Potter and opened his hand slightly. “Potter,” he said softly, “bring th-”
The Weasel swung.
Draco raised up an arm in defense.
The Wolfsbane went flying.
As did a series of green and blue and red streaks of electric light.
Potter caught the Wolfsbane.
Weasley fell into a pile of twitching limbs and red hair.
The end of Slytherin table sat down, prim and smug.
Draco nodded proudly to them and turned to Potter…and Granger’s raised wands. He stilled. “That’s Wolfsbane,” he said softly, minutely inclining his head toward the vial in Potter’s hand. “Take it.”
Suddenly the four were enveloped in a tidal wave of people. Draco managed to kick Weasley’s prone form as he was swept up in the rush of Gryffindors and teachers, and strode happily back to his table, noting as he sat that Potter and Granger had disappeared.
“And they’re off,” he muttered, getting comfortable while he watched the buzzing throng about the spasming Weasel.
“Alright, Draco?” Pansy asked.
“Of course,” Draco said, and then, softer, “Thanks.”
*
Draco took the Wolfsbane from Snape’s cupboard himself. He figured since he wasn’t the one using it, the trio would be blamed if the theft came to light. Besides, Draco, at least, had permission to take things from Snape’s cabinet. He had that permission because he was trustworthy and knew what he was doing, unlike a certain group of Gryffindors who, true to form, were whispering to one another and looking decidedly suspicious at supper. He knew tonight was the night they would go do whatever the foolish thing is they were planning. His visions were true, he knew that now. But he could change the future-and he would, just by standing up and making his way over to them. Now he only had to wait for the perfect opportunity…
There! They were leaving. Draco stood casually, straightening his long black school robe.
“Draco, you’ve hardly eaten!” Pansy objected, looking from him to his plate.
“Yes, where do you think you’re going?” Blaise spoke up from across the table. Draco didn’t know what his problem was.
“I’ll just be a minute,” Draco assured them, not that he had to. It was none of their business what he did, and even if it was, he wasn’t about to tell them what he planned would incense his father should he ever find out. Which, Draco realized just as he managed to get in front of the trio rushing out the doors, he would. Draco was in a room with all of Slytherin, as well as whatever other house members managed to see the light-Dark, rather-so of course his father would find out he was helping the Tiresome Trio.
It almost made Draco turn around and walk out the doors himself, walk all the way back to Slytherin and maybe go to bed early. Act shocked in the morning with the rest of the school when the announcement was made that Potter was a mongrel.
What stopped him was Potter’s smile: Potter smiled at him as the trio was walking past. And it was enough.
Draco palmed the Wolfsbane and, with the same hand, reached out and grabbed the front of Potter’s robes.
The Gryffindors stopped.
“What’s your problem, Ferret?”
“We’re a bit busy right now, Malfoy, but perhaps later-”
“Draco, what is it?” Whispered softly.
Like stars winking out one by one, conversations in the Great Hall slowly came to a stop as people noticed the confrontation.
“Potter,” Draco said imperiously.
Potter’s gaze hardened. “Malfoy, what do you want?”
“Yeah, what do you want, Malfoy?” The Weasel stepped up on Potter’s other side, blocking Draco from view of the Great Hall. Weasley’s hands were clenched into fists, and his eyes begged Draco to do anything, say anything, and just see what happened. Draco wasn’t in the mood; his reputation was once again being shot to hell, no thanks to this group of teenage terrorists.
“Sod off, Weasel.” Draco released Potter and opened his hand slightly. “Potter,” he said softly, “bring th-”
The Weasel swung.
Draco raised up an arm in defense.
The Wolfsbane went flying.
As did a series of green and blue and red streaks of electric light.
Potter caught the Wolfsbane.
Weasley fell into a pile of twitching limbs and red hair.
The end of Slytherin table sat down, prim and smug.
Draco nodded proudly to them and turned to Potter…and Granger’s raised wands. He stilled. “That’s Wolfsbane,” he said softly, minutely inclining his head toward the vial in Potter’s hand. “Take it.”
Suddenly the four were enveloped in a tidal wave of people. Draco managed to kick Weasley’s prone form as he was swept up in the rush of Gryffindors and teachers, and strode happily back to his table, noting as he sat that Potter and Granger had disappeared.
“And they’re off,” he muttered, getting comfortable while he watched the buzzing throng about the spasming Weasel.
“Alright, Draco?” Pansy asked.
“Of course,” Draco said, and then, softer, “Thanks.”