Draco's Draught

Restored

I woke in the hospital wing once more. Snape sat beside me, looking solemn.

When he saw me stir, he spoke. "How are you feeling, Draco?"

I sat up and took stock. My breasts were gone. I cleared my throat. "Fine, sir. I'm just fine. Has Harry..."

Snape scowled. "Draco, do you really want to waste your time with that boy? When you could reclaim your place in Slytherin? You know they'll never accept you without help from your father, and that will not be forthcoming if you remain Potter's...bitch."

I flushed. How dare he? I opened my mouth, then shut it again. I couldn't deny that he was right. If I were to stay with Harry, I could never go back to the way things were before. I would be permanently turned from my house, and marriage or no, my father would make my life hell.

I turned away from him. "Draco, you know I do not say this to hurt you. But he is not worth it. I cannot stress enough how much this could damage your reputation. You need to return to the way things were before."

I nodded, still unable to look at him. "Yes, sir, you're right. I just...I need to be alone for a bit, okay?" Without a word, he rose, and I was alone.

I sat for several minutes, thinking of life before the potion. Had I been happy? I had certainly enjoyed my place in life, but looking back now, it seemed hollow. I hadn't had friends, I'd had lackeys. People to push around, or to have push around others for me. I'd enjoyed it at the time. But it was the enjoyment of a child who destroyed things to get new toys. The enjoyment lasted only for the short time the destruction took place. Once it was over, all that remained was a need to find something new to destroy.

But these past several weeks, I had not had that dubious pleasure. And something else had replaced it. Happiness. The time Harry and I had spent together was like nothing I had felt before. Certainly not at home, and not even here at Hogwarts. Could I just give that all up?

But how could I not? I swallowed against the bile that rose in my throat. I was Malfoy. And if I wanted any chance to regain my position in my house, I couldn't allow myself to be anywhere near Harry again.

My decision made, I worked to restore the mask of five and a half years that I had always worn. The mask that Harry had torn down in less than two weeks. But I had to have it in place when he arrived.

His arrival was a noisy one. He slammed into the hospital wing, shouting my name. Madam Pomfrey scolded him severely and told him if he could not control himself, than he was not allowed to be in the hospital wing at all. He quickly apologized, then moved to where I sat as quickly as he dared. By this time, my mask was fully in place.

"Draco! I just heard. Are you okay?"

I scowled. "I'm just fine, Potter. Why shouldn't I be? Everything is back to normal."

"If you're still worried about that, I told you, Draco. I don't care..."

"Stop that!" I snarled at him.

The confusion in his lovely green eyes nearly shattered the wall I had tried to build around myself. But if he called me Draco once more... "...But..."

"But nothing, Potter. It was lovely while it lasted, but now it's time for me to get on with my life."

There. The anger finally began to flare in his eyes. "I...see." He swallowed. "So, I'm holding you back, Malfoy?" I could see his hands were clenched at his sides. "Since I'm bothering you, I think I'll just leave."

I sneered. "Please do. I need a bit of rest, and having a noisy Gryffindor around is certainly not helping."

The anger faded for a moment. "Draco, please don't do this..."

I couldn't stop myself. It was either this, or break from everything I knew forever. "Idiot boy," I hissed at him. "Do you really think, now that I have a choice again, that I'd need or want to be with you? You make me sick, Potter. Sniveling here like I'm taking away a favorite toy or something. Just get out of here, and leave me alone!"

Those green eyes glowed for a moment. The emotions played across his face like a Quidditch game in fast-forward on omnioculars. "Fine," he whispered. He turned, and I could see his shoulders sag as he left. I clenched my hands together on my lap, biting my tongue as he walked away. It was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. And that's when I discovered exactly why they called it heartbreak.

I sat there for another hour, lost in memories, since they were all I had left of him, and waited for Pomfrey to release me. Finally, Snape returned. "Draco."

I nodded to him. "Professor."

"I hope you had a restful afternoon?" he asked.

I wanted to rant at him. To make him angry enough to hex me. To get him to turn me back into a girl. But even if I did, it was too late. Harry hated me now. He'd never want to see me again. "It was fine, Professor."

"Good. I've come to help you back to your dorm. All your stuff has been moved back, so you won't have to deal with that at all. Your housemates are looking forward to seeing you again."

I was sure they were. They were probably laying in wait, ready to take out all sorts of nasty revenges on me. "Yes, sir, I'm sure they are." I stood, and he guided me from the room.

I felt a certain sense of deja-vu as we walked through the halls. Students had been returning to Hogwarts slowly since the day after Boxing Day, so we again had an audience that watched us as we walked.

I did my best to ignore the stares we got as we made our way down into the dungeon. They didn't matter, and things would soon be back to normal, and then I could be okay.

It was quiet when we entered the common room. Most of the students had either not returned yet, or were in their rooms. Snape left me at the door, so I made my way alone to the old rooms I had shared with the other sixth-years before the "disaster" that my life had become. Crabbe and Goyle were there, unpacking when I arrived.

I looked at Crabbe. They had both turned when the door had opened, and they were staring at me as though I were an apparition. "Hello, Vincent. Have a good holiday?" He nodded dumbly, and I moved past him to my bed. My trunk was back at the foot of my bed, and on it lay Serica's basket. I opened the basket, and she crawled out and onto my arm. Over the intervening days between Boxing Day and my change, we had taught her a few more signs. She greeted me now, then twined up my arm and settled on my shoulder.

I continued to examine my things, making sure that everything had returned from my temporary rooms. Behind me, Crabbe and Goyle were completely silent. This wasn't horribly unusual, but this wasn't any ordinary day, either.

Finally, content that all my belongings had been returned, I turned to look at the two buffoons again. "Well?" I prompted.

Crabbe had a slight smile on his face, but Goyle looked as though he were about to drop through the floor. "Hey, boss," Crabbe said, now grinning. "Need anything?"

I shook my head. "Just a few moments alone with your counterpart, here." Crabbe nodded, ignoring the panicked look on Goyle's face, and left the room. I knew he would stand in the hallway and keep anyone out until I told him they could enter.

When I turned finally to look at Goyle, he had gone completely pale. "Breathe, Gregory. I'm not going to kill you." He gasped, and breathed heavily for a moment, almost as though I had punched him in the gut. I walked around him, examining him as I went. "Not yet anyway. Now, Gregory, I'm sure that you understand that I can't simply leave what happened. I have to have some kind of response, you understand." He nodded, and his head hung sorrowfully. "But what should I do? I mean, you are bigger than me. I don't think I could really hurt you if I tried." I stopped in front of him once more. He was still pale, probably terrified that I would cast Crucio on him or something. "Look at me," I told him.

His pale eyes jumped up to meet mine. "What do you think I should do, Gregory? Hmm?"

"Dunno," he said in a mumble.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait, then won't we? I wouldn't let down your guard, though." I smiled grimly at him, then walked past him and opened the door. Crabbe was actively restraining Zabini, who had obviously not taken no for an answer when Crabbe had not let him into the room.

"Hello, Zabini," I drawled.

His eyes jumped to my face, obviously startled. "Dra..." he caught himself, brushed himself off now that Crabbe had stepped back behind me when I'd entered the hall. "Hello, Malfoy," he said smoothly. "You're looking..." he looked me appraisingly up and down. "...Better, I suppose." He grinned. "Finally ready to trade up from your little Gryffindor?"

My wand was out before he could blink. "Zabini, you've always been too big for your britches, but I think it's time someone taught you a lesson. You get one warning, got it? If I so much as hear you say another word about me, another syllable, even, you're not going to like what I turn you into. Got it?"

His tanned skin turned a sickly yellow. He nodded, unable to get the words past the lump in his throat.

"Good." My wand disappeared once more, and I strode off down the hallway, two heavy pairs of shoes echoing behind me. Back in my position as Prince of Slytherin once more.