Out With the Old Professors, In With the New

Ch. 16: Draco's Detour Distracts Dumbledore's Darling

Harry awoke to find that he was lying in a bed in the Infirmary. How unusual! he thought to himself. Perhaps I should just move down here and save myself the trip.

He turned his head to look around, and was immediately greeted by an enthusiastic, high-pitched squeal. "Harry Potter, you is awake! Dobby was so worried, sir! You looked as pale as a ghost when you was brought in! Dobby came as soon as I could, and I stayed all night and day watching over you, sir."

Harry smiled and sat up, happy to see a friendly, enthusiastic face, and was overcome by a wave of dizziness. "Whew! I'm still a bit light-headed after what happened. But thanks, Dobby, I really appreciate your staying with me last night. And you said all day, didn't you? What time is it anyway?"

Dobby beamed at Harry, and replied, "Oh, no thanks are necessary, sir, Dobby was happy to do it. I is just glad you is OK now, sir. And it's nearly dinner time sir, you and all the other students have slept through most of the day. Dobby will go now and get the nurse, she asked to be told as soon as you was awake."

As Dobby hurried off in search of Madam Pomfrey, Harry propped his head against his pillows and looked about the hospital. For once, he had plenty of company. The entire hall was full of students; every bed was occupied, and rows and rows of cots filled the aisles. Harry, being a frequent customer, got his regular corner bed, so he was a bit more comfortable than most of his schoolmates.

He had also awakened before anybody else. His body, having been trained over the years by repeated maulings and assaults, was much more resilient than most. He recognized many of his friends among the stricken. There was Dean, and over there was Ernie MacMillan. They still looked a bit pale, but much better than the zombie-like pallor Harry remembered from yesterday.

Soon, he saw Dobby and Madam Pomfrey approach. "Well, Mr. Potter, I'm quite glad to see you up and about!" she exclaimed. "You had quite an evening, and so did all your friends. I used up all the Blood Restorative Potions I had in stock, and had to send for more from St. Mungo's. But we've pulled you all through, we have. Everyone should be back to their old selves by tomorrow." She sat down heavily on a chair next to his bed, and Harry noticed that she looked exhausted.

"Are you OK, Madam Pomfrey? You look really tired," he remarked.

She sighed, and said, "Oh, I'll be fine, Mr. Potter. I've been up all night and most of the day seeing to you and your friends, and I won't deny that I'll be quite happy to see my bed! St. Mungo's was kind enough to send along two healers and four nurses to help, otherwise I'd have been at it for days! Thank goodness Professor Dumbledore thought to cast a Stasis Charm over the lot of you, that way we were able to revive you all one at a time and deal with you individually. Otherwise, I fear we may not have been able to save everyone."

She fell silent for a moment, and Harry reflected again on how dangerous pranks could be if you weren't careful enough. Maybe knock-knock jokes were better after all.

Madam Pomfrey rose and stretched, and said, "Well, Mr. Potter, we'd better see to you now. Here, drink this, it will make you feel better." From a pocket in her apron, she produced a bottle full of an orange liquid. She pulled out the cork, filled a glass from Harry's nightstand, and handed it to him. "C'mon now, drink that all down, it will do you good."

Harry took the glass and regarded it tentatively, anticipating some disgusting or unpleasant potion. He raised it to his lips cautiously, and took a small sip.

"Madam Pomfrey!" he exclaimed. "Is this...?"

"That's right, Mr. Potter," she said laughing. "It's pumpkin juice! Just drink it up, and after a glass or two you'll feel as good as new. The Blood Restorative Potion works wonders, but it leaves you somewhat dehydrated. I'll wager you're feeling a bit peaky right now, but a couple of glasses of juice will do the trick. I'll just leave the bottle here on your nightstand. Drink it all, and after a few minutes, you should feel fine. Well, as you can see, I've still got a lot of other patients to attend to, so I'll take my leave of you, and you may head back to your common room as soon as you feel up to it."

Harry thanked the nurse as she scurried off to see to her other charges. Dobby, who had been watching silently, clapped his hands and said, "Sir, you is going to be well! Dobby is so happy! If you doesn't mind, sir, Dobby will go back to your room now. I still has to clean up your robes from last night, and blood stains is very hard to get out!"

Harry laughed, and said, "OK Dobby, go right ahead. Try to get to bed early if you can, though. I'm guessing you didn't sleep at all last night, did you?"

"No sir, Dobby had to watch over his master, sir. But now that I knows you are well, I'll be able to sleep. Just promise to call Dobby if you needs me, sir!" He bowed, and vanished in a wisp of smoke.

Harry finished his glass of juice, and drained the rest of the bottle in short order. After reclining comfortably for a few minutes, he felt his strength returning. No one else had begun to stir yet, so he got up and left the hospital wing.

At first, he had intended to go back to Gryffindor Tower, but he felt a bit hungry and decided instead to go grab a bit of supper in the Great Hall. Just as he approached the entrance, however, he heard voices raised in argument. One belonged to Malfoy, who was coming toward the doorway!

What could Malfoy possibly be going on about, Harry wondered? He decided to listen in to see if anything interesting was afoot. Ducking quickly behind a suit of armor, he waited to hear what was the cause of all the commotion.

Malfoy soon hurried into view, clutching a piece of parchment, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. Evidently continuing their argument, Goyle said, "C'mon, Draco, tell us what's in the letter!"

Malfoy turned back toward his friends, and said angrily, "I said no! I can't share this information with anyone. My father trusts me to keep this a secret, and I will. You louts are liable to blabber all about the castle, and it would be more than any of us are worth if you did. Just let me go!"

Harry noticed that Malfoy looked careworn, or perhaps even sick. His skin was waxy, and he was paler than usual. He would not have looked out of place among the victims of the nosebleed prank who were still in the hospital. Perhaps he was under some sort of unusual strain, Harry surmised. The letter! It probably contained directions from Lucius Malfoy for some sort of Death Eater plot! No wonder Draco seemed distressed, he thought.

"Do you want us to come with you?" asked Crabbe in a concerned tone.

"No!" snapped Malfoy. "You don't have to follow after me all the time, like a couple of big, stupid puppies. Where I'm going right now, I need to go by myself."

Crabbe and Goyle looked somewhat upset, but acceded to Malfoy's wishes and returned to the Great Hall. After watching them for a moment, Malfoy turned and began to hurry down the corridor.

Harry decided immediately that he had to follow Malfoy. What was so important that he had to rush off right away? Perhaps he had to complete some task to further a plan of his father's, or maybe even something directly related to a scheme of Lord Voldemort's.

It was vital he get a look at that letter, Harry thought, and find out just exactly what Malfoy was up to. Malfoy turned down a corridor and disappeared, striding purposefully, and Harry emerged from his hiding place to follow. He cursed his ill fortune in not having access to his invisibility cloak. He could race up to his room to get it, but Malfoy would get quite a head start, and perhaps have time to get rid of the letter and do whatever it was that he needed to do before Harry could track him down with the Marauders' Map.

Harry had to act quickly, and after all, acting quickly without much forethought was something of a Harry Potter specialty. He grabbed the helmet off of the suit of armor he had been crouching behind, put it on, and closed the visor. He then tore a nearby tapestry off of the wall and threw it over him like a cloak, and raced off after Malfoy.

Harry turned the corner just in time to see Malfoy head off down a staircase toward the dungeons. Harry was not very familiar with that part of the castle, so he would have to follow Malfoy closely. He hoped his impromptu disguise would hold up to close scrutiny.

In a few moments, he was forced to put his camouflage to the test. He came out at the bottom of the stairs and rounded the corner, and almost ran right into Malfoy, who was standing before a doorway Harry had never been through.

Malfoy turned, startled, and said, "I say, who are you? What do you want?"

Making his voice as deep as he could, Harry replied softly, "Woooooo! I'm, uh, Sir Mumbly Porpoiseton, the Astronomy Tower ghost. I'm on a ghostly errand, so don't ask me too many questions. Wooooo!"

Malfoy looked relieved, and replied, "Oh, I see. I thought you might be a student following me. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I can't say I remember ever seeing you before, though, Sir Porpoiseton."

"Well, uh, I'm not surprised. I, um, haunt the chambers under the tower, you know, and nobody ever comes down there. But I know you, Mr. Malfoy. I've watched you play Quidditch, and I have to tell you, you're one of the best seekers I've ever seen."

Swelling with pride, Malfoy said, "Well, thank you sir, you're an excellent judge of talent, if I do say so myself."

Harry was beginning to enjoy putting one over on Malfoy, and decided to play his ghost role to the hilt. "Well, I should be, I've been haunting this school and watching Quidditch for the last, uh, 10,000 years." Luckily for him, Malfoy's grasp of Hogwarts' history was as tenuous as his own. Harry continued. "I remember your great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, Mortimer Malfoy, he was a great Quidditch player, too. Beater, killed a Muggleborn Hufflepuff with his club during the finals one year, if I recall correctly. He claimed it was an accident, didn't even get detention!"

Malfoy laughed, and said, "That sounds like a Malfoy to me! I'll have to ask dad if he knows about him, it'll be nice to have some family history he might not know. Well, it was nice talking to you, Sir Mumbly, but I really have to go, right now."

"Well, don't let me hold you up, young sir! I'm sure whatever you're doing is really important. Woooooo!" said Harry, waving his arms in what he hoped was a menacing fashion.

Malfoy rushed through the door and let it shut behind him. Harry waited a few seconds, and opened the door carefully and silently. At last he was going to see what had driven his arch-enemy with such urgency!

Harry stepped into the room and looked around. He was in a bathroom. Judging from the sounds coming from a nearby stall, Malfoy's rush to get to here, and his sickly appearance, had a ready explanation. Harry, feeling somewhat embarrassed, was just about to leave, when he noticed the piece of parchment Malfoy had carried on the floor outside his stall.

Now was his chance! He tiptoed over, and gingerly picked up the piece of parchment. He quietly walked to the door, as far away from the completely preoccupied Malfoy as he could get, and began to read the letter:

From: Lucius Malfoy, Imposing Father

To: Draco Malfoy, Disappointing Son

Re: Familial Affection

Greetings Draco,

I express my warmest fatherly fondness for you, as always, seeing as I am your paternal progenitor. Your status as my only offspring and legal heir makes your continuing existence of considerable interest to me.

Well! Now that the mushy stuff is out of the way, on to business. I regret to inform you that our planned activity for this coming Friday has been rescheduled. Instead of meeting at 9:00 that evening here at the manor, we will instead be meeting at 10:00 this evening (Sunday) at the Riddle House. That Very Important Person who shall go nameless (oh, alright, it's the Dark Lord) has decided to change everything, and who are we to question his wisdom. I know he's got something up his sleeve concerning that classmate of yours who was taken from Hogwarts, it should be pretty interesting.

Anyway, if you can get away, I've used my connections at the Ministry to have the fireplace in the Charms classroom attached to the Floo Network. As it is Sunday, Flitwick will undoubtedly still be sleeping it off from his usual legendary weekend debauchery, and the classroom will be vacant. The Floo connection will take you directly to the Riddle House, and will be active from 6:00 PM to midnight, try to come early if you can so you can get ready.

As usual, under no circumstances are you to tell anyone about these plans, or otherwise let anyone find out about them. Especially, and this goes without saying, that accursed Harry Potter! Oh, how I hate him! I spit on the very ground he treads! How I long for the day when his broken body lies in twisted agony as he is tortured beyond all endurance by the Dark Lord, or even, dare I dream it, by his trusted servant, yours truly!

Your Most Impressive Father, Lucius Malfoy, EDW (Evil Dark Wizard)

P.S. Your esteemed mother wishes to attach her own correspondence. Please see the following postscript.

P.P.S. Hewwo, My Drakey-Cakes!

It's your Mumsy! How is my widdle Drakey-Wakey! How is he? Does he miss his Mumsy? He does, doesn't he? Mumsy misses her widdle Drakey too! And don't you upset yourself about your Daddy one widdle bit, you just go ahead and sleep with your widdle blankey if it makes you happy! Daddy won't say so, but he's truly sorry he Avada Kedavra'd your teddy bear this summer. I told him sixteen was not too old to be sleeping with a blankey and teddy, so you pay him no mind! If they ever find Sir Theodore Bearington's head, I'll have the house elves sew it back on and send it to you, my poor little Drakey-Cakes!

Love, Mumsy-Wumsy! Smooch smooch smooch!

Harry felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Seeing the way Malfoy's parents related to him, he momentarily felt a bit better about being an orphan. But that was beside the point. It seemed that whatever sinister plans Voldemort and his followers had regarding Justin, they were going to implement them tonight!

It had to be after 7 PM, Harry guessed. As no other help could reach Justin in time, he decided that he would have to go to his friend's aid himself, and there was not a moment to lose. Drakey-Cakes would not be the only one taking the Floo Network to Lord Voldemort's little gathering, Harry resolved. His mind made up, he replaced the letter where he had picked it up, left the indisposed Malfoy in the bathroom, and hurried off to Professor Flitwick's classroom.

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