Shit n' Piss (After the Flaw: Oligarchy, Chapter 11)

[kanedax]

Title: Shit 'n Piss (After the Flaw: Oligarchy, Chapter 11)
Author: kanedax
Spoilers: Previous Chapters
Rating: R for language
Summary: Ow.
Notes: NO clue where this chapter is taking me. It just kinda... popped in there.
I own these characters. The others belong to JK Rowling.

Adaptations / Previous Chapters / Surreal

When Scorpius Malfoy finally came to, the first thing he noticed was his chest. Or, more accurately, his chest made its presense known. He threw his hands over his ribs, which felt as though they had been pounded with a sledgehammer, only to discover that his arms were extremely heavy. Lifting his head from the pillow was another chore completely. He wasn't even sure he could accomplish that simple task.

And how did he end up with a pillow under his head? Wasn't he on the Quidditch pitch?

"Are you awake?"

Scorpius dragged his eyes open, then closed them immediately. Even the tiny bit of light from the bedside lamp was enough to give him a pounding headache.

"Where am I?" he muttered.

"Hospital wing," said the girl's voice. "They brought you up a few hours ago."

"Oh, yeah," Scorpius sighed. The small exhale was enough to sent another sharp pain through his ribcage.

"Careful," the girl said. "I heard Mia say that you have a lot of broken bones. You should take it slow."

"Mia?"

"Madam Hahnemann," she replied.

Scorpius snorted laughter, once again flinching at the mere breath. He forced his eyelids open again, and this time turned his head to the left, where a young brunette girl was sitting upright in a bed three down from his. In the pale lamplight, he saw that her face, especially her eyes, had a malnourished look to it. Her pajamas, pink with a cartoon kitten on them, looked baggy on her small frame. Scorpius reckoned that the girl couldn't be any taller than five feet standing on her tip-toes.

"You're on a first-name basis with the school nurse, are you?" he asked.

"We see each other a lot," she said with a shrug. "I'm a regular visitor to the hospital wing. You want something to eat?" She reached over to her bedside table and picked up a plate of food. "You can have as much of it as you want," she said, tearing a small piece off of the slice of bread and putting it in her mouth. "My friend Kayla brought it up from the Great Hall, but my stomach's not taking much food right now."

Scorpius, whose stomach rolled at the mere thought of trying to put any of the beef, potatoes, or beans in his mouth, shook his head slowly. "Maybe later," he said, wishing the pounding in his head would subside. "So you're sick?"

"You could say that," said the girl.

"What else could I say?"

"An Impervius gone wrong," she said.

"You can do an Impervius?" said Scorpius with a hint of admiration.

"Not very well, obviously," the girl muttered.

"I'm just surprised that a first year can do one, is all."

"And considering I'm a third year," the girl said with a roll of her eyes, "and was sorted when you were..."

Scorpius blinked in surprise. "Um..."

"It's fine, I'm short, whatever," she said, her voice betraying her irritation. "Plus Ravenclaws and Slytherins haven't had any classes together. Why would you know me?"

"Um," said Scorpius uncomfortably, "sorry?"

The girl's eyebrow arched. "Considering everything I've heard about you, Scorpius Malfoy, I'm surprised I'm even getting an apology."

What have you heard about me? he wanted to ask, but shook the question off. Of course he knew what she had heard. The Malfoy name was sludge to the entire wizarding community. He was sure that this girl had been raised to not think much of his family, and her Ravenclaw classmates wouldn't be much kinder when speaking of him or any of the other Slytherins.

"Meghan, by the way," said the girl when Scorpius failed to respond to her retort. "My name's Meghan. Since, you know, you don't remember me."

"My mind was elsewhere during our Sorting," said Scorpius, who could barely remember hearing any names two Septembers ago, as nervous as he was about being Sorted into anything but Slytherin. The Malfoys had, of course, been Slytherins for generations, and like the Weasley boys this year Scorpius had been terrified to be the first one to break the long tradition.

Also, he had been remembering what his father had said to him on the platform the morning he had first boarded the Hogwarts:

""They may not know the Malfoy name. What it represented before, and what it represents now. But some might. And you may have your share of enemies because of it, even if you don't want them."

And Scorpius had been terrified that he wouldn't break the long Slytherin tradition. That he would have to deal with the people that Draco Malfoy had warned him of. That they'd be even less forgiving than his father had led him to believe.

"I really wasn't listening to any other names," he now said to the girl, Meghan.

"It's alright," Meghan relented. "I really wasn't listening, either. I don't think I could name half of the Slytherins in our year. I'm not surprised you can't name any Ravenclaws." She paused, taking a sip of a blue potion in a bottle near her bed. "Uch," she said with a shudder, "bloody hell, that's nasty."

"So, seriously, what happened to you?" asked Scorpius, trying to sit up. He immediately regretted the move, as his head started swimming and a dull, throbbing pain shot up the back of his neck. Whiplash? he thought with a bit of anger. Or did those bastards fracture my spine, too?

"Careful," said Meghan, pulling away the sheets and getting out of her bed. "Don't... Don't make it worse, okay?"

"I don't know how it can get any worse," Scorpius groaned, as he was getting his first good look at the damage. Both of his arms were in casts below the elbow. His chest looked thicker than normal, so he was sure there was some sort of protective padding underneath his nightshirt. His left leg was cast, as well, and held up at the foot of the bed by a sling attached to a pole.

"Should I shut up and let you sleep?"

"I don't think I can sleep right now," said Scorpius as his world twirled in his vision. He was dizzy enough as is. The shock to his system from seeing what his body had been reduced to wasn't helping matters any.

"Good," said Meghan, picking up her plate of food and the potion bottle and carrying them both to the bed beside Scorpius's. "I can't sleep, either. Hope you don't mind," she said, sitting down on the bed with her legs crossed. "My throat's still really sore; I'm having trouble talking across all the beds. So what happened to you?"

"Quidditch tryouts," Scorpius said.

"Tryouts?" said Meghan, surprised. "Must have been a rough tryout. I haven't seen anyone injured as bad as you during a match, I don't see how--"

"When members of the squad have a vendetta, yeah, it can be that rough," said Scorpius. While the Slytherin captain, Xavier MacDougal, wasn't an official member of Alan Runcorn's inner circle, Scorpius knew that the seventh year was friendly enough with the Purebloods to turn a blind eye when Tarren Orlo and Wendell Redmond became a little too aggressive with their Bludgers. He had been adept enough to avoid the Beaters' first few shots as he charged the hoops. But a split-second after his Quaffle passed by the Keeper's outstretched hands, Scorpius's elbow was bent backwards as the Bludger collided with his arm, followed quickly after by a second shot to the back of the head. He barely remembered anything after that, except that he had been a good fifty feet off the ground when the attacks came, and was pretty sure that the fall had done the damage to his ribs, leg, and other arm.

At least he hoped so. He would get more information in the coming days from the Blood Traitors about what happened, but he wouldn't be surprised if the two Beaters had done a little more work after he had lost consciousness.

"But why?" asked Meghan, aghast, as Scorpius told his story. "I mean, I know the Slytherins aren't the nicest people in the world, but I still don't understand why they would do that to one of their own."

"I'm not one of their own," said Scorpius. "Not one of the Purebloods, at least."

"But I thought you were a Pureblood," said Meghan. "Wasn't your family with the Death Eaters? Sorry!" she added quickly as Scorpius's face turned red. "Kayla always says that my mouth runs faster than my brain. I didn't mean that you--"

"They were Death Eaters," said Scorpius quietly. "Both of my grandfathers were involved, my grandmothers not as much. Dad... Well, you know all this already, right?"

"Not really," said Meghan, chewing on a piece of beef. "I've only heard the broad strokes from my friends."

"Just enough to know that you wouldn't expect an apology from me?"

"That was stupid," she blurted out. "Again, brain, mouth...."

"S'alright," said Scorpius, "I've heard worse."

"Well, you'll have to forgive me," said Meghan. "Muggles aren't as up on magical history as others."

"You're a Muggleborn?" Scorpius said, wondering what Lucius Malfoy would say if he knew that his only grandson was having a derision-free conversation with a Mudblood, actually acknowledging her presence without scorn and sarcasm.

"If you don't want to talk about this--"

"Its fine," said Scorpius, barely hiding the smile at the thought of his grandfather's face turning purple. What the hell, he thought. Father and grandfather would have both been with the Purebloods when they were in school. They would have done this to me as sure as Orlo, Redmond, or Runcorn. Who cares what they'd think? "Rather you hear it from me than from anyone else, you know?"

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, my friends Rose and Al, they actually defend you a lot when people start making Malfoy jokes."

"Considering my grandmum saved Potter's dad, I'm glad to hear it," said Scorpius. "The Malfoys were Death Eaters, so they weren't loved by Dumbledore's people. Then they saved Potter, and so they weren't loved by the Death Eaters. Hence, um," he lifted his arm again, "this."

"Wow," said Meghan. "Crappy."

"Just a bit, yeah," said Scorpius.

"Its stupid that they can't leave things in the past, you know?" said Meghan. "It's not like you had anything to do with what your family did."

"You try telling them that," said Scorpius, easing himself back down again. He paused. "On second thought," he said, "don't tell them. Seriously. They're lousy around the Muggleborns in our House. You don't want to know what they'd do to a Muggleborn from another House who tries crossing them."

"I'm sure it'd be a walk in the park compared to this," she said, taking another slug of the dreadful potion.

Scorpius sighed. She had no idea. Very few students at Hogwarts did. They didn't know what Slytherins, past and present, could be capable of.

They didn't know about the books.

They were in the Slytherin common room and all of its dormitories, unknown to the other Houses, often even to the Headmasters themselves. Some were slim in the years with friendly leadership. Others, written in the Hogwarts of Phinneas Nigellus Black, spanned multiple volumes. Books that were part history, part warning, part instruction manual. Some, magically preserved, dated back to the early days of Hogwarts, when Salazar Slytherin had begun to claim his House's independence from the rest of the Founders. They all shared one common theme: how to deal with the Mudbloods. How to keep them out of Slytherin House and, if one were ambitious, out of Hogwarts.

They detailed, often graphically, tales of intimidation and torture. The Muggleborns who were unfortunate enough to find themselves in Slytherin often dropped out, driven from the school by the constant physical and psychological techniques exerted by their Housemates. During the darker years, others turned up at St. Mungo's, victims of "accidents" and "mishaps" that were really spells designed over the centuries to be easily concealable, and taught through the books to Slytherin students for use without suspicion.

Any Muggleborns who happened to escape, or persevere, these tortures had two options. The first was to bow to the purebloods, and spend the rest of their Hogwarts days as simply slaves to the Slytherin House. Others, those who fought back often met a more abrupt end.

Deaths were considered a rare occurrence at Hogwarts, but well-known. When the Chamber of Secrets was opened, the school was nearly closed following the murder of a student. The occasional death during the Triwizard Tournaments forced the competition to be cancelled for centuries until the death of Cedric Diggory closed the doors completely. The Slytherin books, however, documented a much darker, less publicized series of deaths over the centuries: Slytherin Muggleborns, particularly the young, rebellious ones, had a significant history of turning up dead.

It wasn't spoken of, of course. When a school tries to promote its positive image to the wizarding community in general, it wouldn't help its cause to discuss the ancient history of a few extremists. The traditions, after all, had faded over the centuries. Their hibernation could be attributed to a recent history of blood-blind Headmasters like Dippet, Dumbledore, and McGonagall, as well as relatively moderate Heads of House. It also had to do with the Sorting Hat who, over time, began to take blood status into account when assigning students. Somehow the Hat began to recognize that the safety of Muggleborns and half-blood, and often Sorted Slytherin candidates into other Houses simply to save their lives.

Unfortunately for them, the Hat had softened over time, apparently comfortable with the safety of the House. Scorpius reckoned it saw the divisions that had grown within the House as a safety bubble for those that the Purebloods would otherwise deem unworthy. Maybe the Hat believed the Traitors would win out in the end, actually change Slytherin to something better than what it was....

For their sakes, and for the House's sake, Scorpius hoped that a talking hat knew what it was doing.

"Just trust me," said Scorpius. "I don't even know what you did to yourself, but it's not worse than what some of the Slytherins are capable of."

"Wow."

"What?"

"A Malfoy actually looking out for a Muggleborn's well-being," said Meghan with a smirk. "Sounds like I'll have to start defending you now, too, huh?"

"Do what you have to do," said Scorpius with a shrug. "So what's with the potion?"

"Hm?"

"You still haven't told me what you did."

"Oh, right," said Meghan, her voice dropping. "It's... It's stupid."

"I'm laying here with half my body wrapped," said Scorpius. "Try me."

Meghan sat quietly, her face turning a shade that practically matched her pink pajamas. After a few moments of what looked like internal struggle, she spoke. "Alright, so you know how it was raining last week?"

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Well, we had Care of Magical Creatures on Friday," she explained, her voice moving fast, as though she just wanted to get the apparently embarrassing incident out fo the way. "And, stupid me, I forgot my umbrella. I was trying to share one with Kayla, but I couldn't stay under it the whole time. We were working with Nogtails, and, you know, they hate the rain. So I'm running around, getting absolutely soaked, and I thought it'd be smart to use an Impervius Charm. You know, just on my face, so I could see a little better."

"Didn't work?"

"I messed up," she said. "Used an Imperturbable Charm instead. Pretty much walked around in an invisible barrier for the rest of the lesson. Which, I suppose, would be fine, considering I was trying to keep dry."

"But?"

"Imperturbables only last an hour," she said. "Two at the most. Mine... Mine lasted a lot longer. I guess I passed out this morning," she said quietly. "Mia said it was dehydration and starvation. Which, yeah, I hadn't eaten anything, hadn't even had a drink of water since Friday morning. I couldn't. Nothing could get through the barrier. I hadn't even changed clothes."

"Holy..." Scorpius gasped. "It lasted that long? How is that possible? Didn't anyone... Didn't you ask anyone to try to cast a countercharm?"

"Didn't think there was one," said Meghan. "It's... I don't know, I guess I was just embarrassed that I screwed it up. Thought I might get in trouble for using a spell on myself without knowing how to use it right. Besides, I knew that it would wear off eventually. It had to, right?"

"But your friends--"

"I just told them I was sick," she said. "I spent most of the weekend in bed. Told them that, yeah, of course I was eating, I was just under the weather. I just... It's stupid, I know that now," she explained quickly as she saw Scorpius's look of disbelief. "But I've been to the hospital wing so often since I started school, I didn't want to, like, annoy anyone. I know I'm incompetent, I didn't need anyone to tell me again."

"Incompetent isn't the word I'd use," said Scorpius.

"You're sweet," said Meghan with a small smile. "But, yeah, incompetent, inexperienced, whatever. I got the same warning when my Cheering Charm rebounded on me and they had to put me in a straight jacket for a night. Same warning when they had to repair my desk and reattach two of my toes after I practiced a Diffindo Charm on a piece of parchment. Same warning when I used that Engorgio Charm to... um..." she trailed off into silence.

"To... what?" asked Scorpius carefully.

"Never mind!" Meghan squeaked, her face now beet red as she crossed her arms defensively over her chest.

"What are you... Oh!" Scorpius felt his own face burn as he put two and two together. Meghan looked ready to sink into the bed, not to mention the floor, as he dug for something to say in the awkward silence, but nothing came to his suddenly frazzled mind. Mercifully, he was saved by the creak of the hospital office's door.

"Oh, good, Mr. Malfoy, you're awake," said Madam Hahnemann, a slight, middle-aged woman with gray streaks through her red hair, as she entered the room. Approaching Scorpius's bed, she pulled her wand from her dressing gown, which was enough of a clue to Scorpius about what time it was. How long was he unconscious?

"How do you feel?" she asked with a hint of a German accent as she began to examine him, lifting one casted arm and then the other, running her wand across them both. "Is there much pain?"

"A bit," Scorpius said modestly, wincing as she lifted his leg.

"I am sorry about that," she said evenly. "There was only so much I could do while you were still asleep."

"Is it as bad as I think it is?" Scorpius asked bracingly as he worked her wand up his padded ribcage.

"If you were a Muggle, yes," she said, running the tip of her wand across his temple. "Chin up, please." Scorpius did as she asked. "Good, good," she said to herself as she passed her wand in front of his eyes. "Excellent. Any dizziness? Nausea? Headaches?"

"Yes to all three," said Scorpius.

"That's what I expected," she said. "A fall from that height after being hit by the ball in the head... Well, it's a recipe for a concussion if I've ever heard one."

"That's bad?" Scorpius asked. The term concussion was foreign to him.

"Not the end of the world," said Hahnemann. "I just needed to know what kind of potion cocktail to mix up for you. Miss Cullen?"

"Yes, ma'am?" said Meghan.

"That doesn't look like the food that I approved of," she asked, her eyes never leaving her examination of Scorpius's injuries.

"No, ma'am," said Meghan quietly, looking around the bed for somewhere to quickly hide her Great hall dinner.

"The potion won't work as effectively without the right nutrients to multiply," Hahnemann explained. "Eat the vitamins, eat the vegetables. You can have whatever you want when you get out of here, but when you're under my care you're on my menu."

"Sorry..."

"Also, I'd rather not have to make more beds than I have to," Hahnemann continued, "so if you could please stay in yours and not flit around?"

"Right, sorry," said Meghan, quickly jumping to her feet and slinking her way back to her bed. As she slid back beneath her sheets, Hahnemann tapped her wand on each of Scorpius's casts and once on his temple. With each tap, Scorpius felt a warmth flow through the extremity. The Healer then conjured two small bottles and two tiny glasses onto the nightstand beside Scorpius's bed.

"Concusscoction," she explained to Scorpius, pouring the orange-colored liquid into one vial, "to deal with any brain trauma from the injury. "And Skele-Gro," she poured the steaming liquid into the second glass. "I just healed most of your broken bones. However, your mother insists that you take a shot of this anyway."

"My mother?" said Scorpius, sitting up again. Surprisingly, neither of his arms hurt as he did so, although his head pounded a bass drum beat. "She was here?"

"No, your parents haven't been here yet," said Mia. "Its school policy to Floo the parents after an injury such as yours, but it was minor enough where I didn't suggest an appearance. Your mother, of course, insisted that I be thorough in making sure that no mistakes are made."

Scorpius's eyes rolled as he heard the tone of Hahnemann's voice. Knowing his mother, he was sure there were some choice words that the Healer wanted to say about the conversation. He was sure that Hedda Malfoy had tried her best to threaten Hahnemann's job, and possibly her vital organs, if her darling boy came out of the hospital wing in any less than peak condition.

"Anyway," said Hahnemann shortly, "the Skele-Gro is simply a precaution in case my wand missed any chipped bones. It is policy, however, to keep a patient overnight if they take a dose of Concusscotion." She swung her wand with short, sharp swipes, and Malfoy's casts fell onto the bed. "That should make you more comfortable for your stay."

"Thanks," he said, flexing his arms, which felt stiff but otherwise fine.

Hahnemann poured the orange liquid into the steaming potion and handed the mixture to Scorpius.

"It doesn't hurt the effectiveness," she said as he took it all in one shot. "But it does help it go down easier. Pyjamas are behind the curtain," she said, pointing to the rack in the corner of the room. "If you need anything, a Sleeping Potion, or anything, I'll be in the office after I'm done with Miss Cullen."

Scorpius wanted to respond, but he was too busy flinching as the burning potion travelled down his throat. The mixture had a slightly citrus taste to it, which he assumed was from the Concusscoction, but it didn't help quite as much as he would have liked. He glanced over at Meghan, who looked like she was ready to break into laughter at his face, and he wondered if he had steam rising out of his ears.

In order to avoid her gaze, he got up and walked over to the white curtained corner. Pulling back the drape, he found a pale blue pair of hospital-issued pajamas. As he pulled off his torn and grass-stained Quidditch robes (a replica Wigtown Wanderers kit Grandmother Gibbon had given him for his birthday last year) and buttoned the itchy cotton top, he heard Mia and Meghan mumbling outside. Despite only being ten feet away from them, Scorpius could barely make out any of the words, and assumed that all of the curtains in the hospital wing were enchanted to muffle sound.

He tied off the pants, which ended a good three inches above his ankles, and came back out to the main room.

Meghan snorted with restrained laughter. "Nice," she said, looking at the Slytherin's bright attire. "Definitely you."

"Sod off," said Malfoy, climbing into bed. His very bones were feeling like they were covered in pins and needles, and his brain was pulsing. Added to the ill-fitting clothes, his mood was starting to veer south.

"No, I'm serious," Meghan said. "Seriously, you Slytherins need color more often. Too much black and green, you know?"

"Okay, that's enough," said Hahnemann. "Mr. Malfoy needs his rest, and so do you. Remember, one more vitamin pill, and one sip of potion every five minutes until its gone, and then you sleep. If you get hungry, you eat the carrots, not the Chocolate Frog that I know Ms. Macmillan smuggled up to you."

"I promise," said Meghan.

"I thought you were on a first-name basis with her?" Scorpius said to her with a smirk.

"Only when she's not trying to get on my good side," said Hahnemann. "Now I'd rather be able to look in on you two during the night to make sure there aren't any complications. Which means I don't want to have to pull the curtains around your beds. That means no talking. Sleep. Yes?"

"Yes," Meghan sighed as Hahnemann took one last look back at the two students. As she reached the doorway to her office she flicked her wand and the bedside lamps extinguished, causing the hospital wing to fall into a darkness that the office's desk lamp bisected. She then closed her door, and the room was now lit by only the moon outside the windows.

Scorpius lay down on his back, closing his eyes. The only sound was the muffled wireless from other side of Hahnemann's door and the occasional clink and soft slurp as Meghan took her potion from her nightstand and took a sip.

As the potion began to do its work on his brain and bones, Scorpius tried to empty his mind and get some sleep. It was slow in coming. He wondered what would happen when he returned to the dungeons tomorrow. His mere existence was enough to offend Runcorn and the other Pure Bloods, and he wondered what was in store for him when they discovered they hadn't driven him from Hogwarts forever. How his fellow Traitors would treat him when he came back? Would he find stronger support, perhaps a move to actually stand up against the Pure powers? Or would he be an outcast from the other half of Slytherin, kept from both sides because of what his family represented.

His family... How were Draco and Hedda Malfoy taking this? How was the great Lucius Malfoy reacting to the knowledge that the sons of his former colleagues were treating his grandson like a thirteen-year-old punching bag?

"You still awake?"

"Despite my best efforts," Scorpius sighed. "How's the potion coming along?"

"One sip left, thank God," Meghan whispered. "It's supposed to multiply the food in my stomach without over-straining it, I guess. Mia says its Gump's Law, or something. Wanna split my Frog?"

"I thought you weren't supposed to have chocolate."

"Why do you think I'm offering you half?" Meghan said, a smile showing through her voice in the darkness. "I need to wipe this taste out of my mouth or I'll have dreams about cleaning the girls' bathroom with my tongue."

"The potion's that bad, huh?" he said as he felt a light weight plop onto his stomach. He picked up the Chocolate Frog half she had tossed him and took a bite from its leg.

"It's made of bird droppings, anger, and liverwurst."

"Nummy," Scorpius said with a chuckle. As he chewed on the chocolate, he felt the itch in his bones dull, and his mind start to clear. Magic stuff, he thought, amazed that his body at once began to relax. He let out a deep yawn. Sleep would come fast now.

"Okay, now that's my cue to shut up," said Meghan as he tried to stifle the yawn.

"Probably," he said. "You getting out tomorrow, too?"

"No," Meghan sighed. "She's keeping me for another day."

"Oh, alright," said Scorpius, surprised at the disappointment in his voice.

"But I'll see you around the school," Meghan continued. "I mean, that is, if its allowed."

"What, your Ravenclaws would actually let you talk to a Slytherin?" said Scorpius facetiously.

"I think they'd make an exception," said Meghan. "You're good people. I guess I meant your, um, Purebloods. I wouldn't want you to get pounded again."

Scorpius paused, looking across the dark room at the shadowy lump that was Meghan Cullen. What did he want? He knew that being seen with a Ravenclaw and her friends would only make him a more likely target for Pure Blood retaliation. He might even lose the trust of his Blood Traitor friends if they thought he was giving up on them in exchange for favor another House's favor. For the first time since he started Hogwarts, they had a professor, a Head of House, on their side. They could see real change in Slytherin. But did that mean he would have to stay strong, keep to the Traitor circle, and only the Traitor circle, and look down on every other House, as Slytherins in both camps had done for years?

On the other hand, did Scorpius really care what other people thought of him? He'd get grief, maybe even another beating, no matter what.

And she did seem pretty... cool...

"I'll figure something out," said Scorpius Malfoy, wondering if everyone's life was as complicated as his.

Adaptations / Previous Chapters / Surreal