Somnio Salvus DRARRY

Chapter 11

Draco went to breakfast late on Sunday morning so that he wouldn't have to talk to anybody. He sat alone at the end of the table and sulkily poured tea into his "Slytherins do it in the Dungeon" mug.

He was tired and bad tempered, because he had been awake for a large part of the night, trying without success to get into Harry's dream. He had done nothing different, and had no idea why it hadn't worked. He had reached the dizzy phase, and the flying phase without difficulty. He had felt the sensation of speeding up, whizzing through the fog towards Harry. Then he had felt a sensation much like flying into a kind of vertical trampoline, and he had bounced back into his body.

He tried again and again, but the more tired he got, the more difficult it was to concentrate. On his final try he was determined that it would work. He decided that when he reached whatever obstacle was preventing his progress, he would try to mentally grab on, if that was possible. He thought it had worked (although it wasn't easy - it was a bit like hanging onto a lamp-post in the middle of a tornado), but then a noise distracted him and he found himself back where he started.

Eventually he gave up, wondering if perhaps the potion was past its best and becoming less effective. He put on his expensive silk pyjamas, sadly resigned to the fact that nothing messy was going to happen to them, and eventually he drifted off to sleep

Now, as he sat in the great hall scowling into his tea, it dawned on him.

"If they are awake, the conscious mind will fight off the intrusion."

He smacked a hand to his forehead. Of course! Harry was awake! Silly of him, really, to assume that he would be asleep and dreaming whenever it was convenient! He smiled at his own stupidity, with more than a little relief. There was nothing wrong with the potion after all!

Suddenly finding his appetite, he munched his way through three pieces of toast before strolling back to the common room for a nice snooze in front of the fire.

***************************************************************************

Harry didn't know what to make of what he had discovered. He couldn't help feeling that the previous night's excursion had been a waste of time; after all, what had he really found out? That Millicent Bulstrode wore rollers to bed and Malfoy slept in the nude.

He sat alone in the library, staring blankly at his Astronomy homework. He flicked the glossy pages of the textbook Hermione had lent him, and tried to take an interest in a stunning colour photograph of a nebula. He just couldn't concentrate. He flipped the book shut and frowned at the unmoving picture of the Muggle author on the back cover. He had astonishing eyebrows and a monocle.

Events from the night before jumped around in his head like grasshoppers in a jar. Harry tried to sort out his thoughts one at a time, wishing he had a Pensieve to do it for him.

Ok, the book...what do we know about that?

Harry drew a scrap of parchment towards him and scribbled, ' "Moste Potente Potions". Dangerous book of advanced magic, hidden in Malfoy's bed.'

That was as far as he got with that.

He moved on to the potion. 'Pinky purple, smells of almonds. Malfoy takes it before bed. Possible sleeping draught from the book?'

He scratched his head. Things weren't making much more sense. If Malfoy needed a sleeping draught, why didn't he take one of Madam Pomfrey's instead of brewing his own from a dangerous book?

Maybe that is Madam Pomfrey's, and the book is for something else? That was more likely. He wrote it down.

Moving on...to Malfoy's surprisingly light sleep. If he'd taken a medicinal sleeping draught the clinking of glass on glass wouldn't wake him. And why on earth was he lying on top of his covers with no clothes on? Harry paused at this point, unable to think about anything else for a moment or two.