Muggled!

Draco knew he was in deep shit. Not only had he snuck out in the middle of the night, but he had deliberately disobeyed his father. Lucius' words had rung clearly- disobey him once more and he'd pay...dearly, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he just couldn't resist. Whatever it was, curiosity or magic, he now found himself back to the Library in their great Manor. Looking for a couple of minutes, he finally found it! The book that he'd been looking at earlier. He'd only gotten through the first five or six pages, but it looked pretty good and it was by some guy named Machiavelli. Reaching for the book, he started to flip through looking at the printed pages. They were very old and yellow with age.

Suddenly he heard something and he swirled around. His eyes widened as he saw what it was; their watch owl, Pipersquip. Slowly backing up, tried to shush the tiny owl with a swishy motion of his hands, but before he could do anything else, the owl erupted in an atrociously loud screech. Before long, all the candles in the house had magically turned on and he heard the thumping footsteps of the house-elves and Lucius. Terrified, for he knew that he would for sure receive a punishment much worse than any beating could ever be, he took off down the main hall. Reaching the stairs, he made a quick second decision to run down to the dungeons as he could hide better. Thumping down the stairs as fast as he could, he ran past the potions lab and headed towards an empty room. Before he could reach the room, he felt his body snap back towards the table. Looking around frantically, he noticed that a part of his night robe had gotten caught on the end of the table. Upon hearing footsteps from above, he recklessly started pulling with all of his might on the table.

The door opened and footsteps started coming down the stairs.

Draco pulled harder and the table full of potions suddenly started to lurch with him.

The footsteps grew near, and as the torches automatically lit themselves, he made a last ditch effort to free himself form the table.

"Draco Malfoy!" a stern voice called.

The wood started to lurch even more and splinter.

Draco looked up only to see his father walking across his room with an evil type of smirk on his face.

Draco turned and flailed his arms in one last attempt for freedom, and at last, his bathrobe tore from the table, but at the exact same time, the table split into two pieces and half of it, including all of the potions fell right on top of him.

Draco fell to the ground hard and only had a moment to look up at his father before a thick cloud of smoke rose up from the potions and engulfed him in oblivious blackness.