𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄

Chapter 14

Chapter 14: "Chapter Fourteen"

Fudge certainly made good on his word. The next morning when Draco finally awoke (on his stomach - his back was too torn up to lie on), he ached and burned all over, and his face was so swollen that he could hardly see. He reached up one hand to touch his lips - cracked, parched, caked in dry blood. With a groan, he collapsed back onto the bed, hoping against hope that Fudge would not require him to run errands in this condition. He could barely move.

Well, his hope was partially answered. A short, indeterminate while later, the resident Mediwizard pushed open the door, made his way over to the bed, and proceeded to heal Draco's wounds efficiently and very briskly, and then left without a word, leaving Draco to stumble out of bed and test his healing skills.

His eyes were no longer swollen shut, and his flesh wounds had all been healed, but he still ached, a dull throb that was amplified with every slight movement. He imagined Fudge had probably requested that the Mediwizard not heal that, to make sure that Draco was fully punished for his insolence.

As soon as he had managed to dress himself, he made his way down the stairs, only to find Fudge standing there, tapping his foot and looking extremely angry indeed. "You're late," he snapped. Draco tamped down his desire to glare back, instead lowering his eyes respectfully.

"I'm sorry, sir," he murmured.

Fudge snorted. "I'm sure I need not remind you," he said nastily, "that another display like the one you made yesterday and I will not hesitate to turn you out into the street."

Draco's breath hitched, but he didn't move. "No, sir," he whispered.

After a pause, during which Fudge examined the broken, conquered posture of his former show pupil with a sadistic grin on his face, Fudge spoke again. "I'm watching you, Malfoy," he warned. "If I see any infraction from you, any at all..."

He left his threat unfinished, but that was enough. Draco nodded meekly, biting the inside of his lip.

Fudge waved his hand imperiously. "Attend to your duties."

And Draco went, his head lowered and his shoulders slumped.

That day was absolute torture for him. Every time he looked up, he was being eyed by one of the students, either in malice, in horror, or, on the occasion, in fear, and it was that last look that made his heart twist and his stomach give a great lurch. He did not want the children to be frightened of him. He was not a monster. So he was especially patient, especially quick to praise, and never once raised his voice above a low murmur. All in all, he looked completely defeated.

After his teaching duties had been completed for the day (and after yet another lack of meal, when Fudge denied him lunch as well as all the meals he'd missed already in the past two days), he was sent off on an errand. Again, he obeyed without complaint, although his stomach protested rather vociferously at being left empty for so long.

Strangely enough, it is often the day after a particularly trying event that bears something wonderful. Since he had had two trying events the previous day (a sound thrashing by his classmates, followed by a sound thrashing by Fudge), it seemed only logical that two good things would happen on this day.

As Draco was passing Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, the first good thing happened. He was very hungry and very tired, and his eyes were studying the street as he fought to keep himself upright, ignoring his dizziness. But it was not a figment of his imagination when he saw, glinting in the mud, a small piece of silver. A sickle. In an instant, it was in his cold, blue hand, and he was looking at it with an expression of shock and hunger.