𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐎

Part 11

Part Eleven

A few hours later, Draco is, predictably enough, not where he'd said he would be, though Harry isn't overly concerned at first. He takes his time scoping out the rest of the floor, knowing that Draco probably needs the time to cool off, and doesn't even mind heading up to the fourth floor to ask Luna if she'd seen him.

Luna directs Harry gently to the Lab, telling him that Draco had, indeed, sought her out a while ago, but hadn't done much more than rant a little and then proclaim that he didn't have time for this. Instead of being hurt, Harry smiles affectionately at the picture of Draco ranting and ending with his signature work phrase.

He begins to worry a bit, though, when he follows Luna's vague directions to the underground Medi-Magical Laboratory and doesn't see Draco around at all. A few jittery-looking pathologists hovering over cauldrons and wearing white robes and goggles all seem to scatter when he appears, and Harry can understand Draco's impatience with them immediately. It's like working with a floor full of less competent Sparrows.

"Erm, right," he says loudly, when nobody seems brave enough to actually greet him. "Has anyone seen Healer Malfoy?"

Dead silence follows, only broken by the bubbling and hissing of potions, and Harry sighs and rubs the back of his neck. The Lab is dimly lit and sort of slimy-looking; the pathologists look a bit like rats, blinking up at the new and unfamiliar face infringing on their territory.

"He—he usually works over—over there," stutters one man, holding a tray with a few potion vials on it, which clack together in his shaking grip. He gestures timidly towards a corner of the Lab that has been closed off by a partition screen. The area seems lit up and brighter than the rest of the Lab, and Harry chastises himself for not picking it out right away.

Indeed, as he nears it and peers inside, the area is clearly Draco's: a large keep out sign has an animated snake pictured on it, which hisses threateningly at Harry as he smiles at it. Spelled to the walls of the partition are various charts, diagrams and lists that Harry doesn't quite understand but recognizes Draco's handwriting on. An enormous cauldron dominates most of the counter space, and the only solid wall is lined with shelves that hold a few potions ingredients and what appear to be blood samples and thin, gold and silver thread-like magic samples, stasis spells swirling around them.

The space is undeniably Draco's, but it has a distinct lack of Draco, and he frowns in confusion as he looks around at the rather cluttered mess left in front of the bubbling cauldron. It's obvious that Draco had been here, and not long ago, but he appears to have left suddenly.

"He—he ran out about twenty minutes ago." Harry jumps and nearly upends the cauldron as he whirls to see the frightened-looking pathologist from before peering in at him and squinting in the brightness.

"Right. Did he say where he was going?"

The pathologist blushes and shakes his head. "N—no. He was just mumbling to himself, but he always does that—"

"Thanks," Harry says shortly, rolling his eyes at the pathologist's flinch. He turns back to Draco's work area, looking closely at the pieces of parchment scattered there.

A still-inked quill is laying haphazardly over one sheet, and Harry zeroes in on what appears to be a list. Scribbled on it in Draco's neat, cramped handwriting is: armadillo bile, puffer-fish eyes, Puffskein urine, Puffskein stomach acid, basilisk skin. Scribbled next to the list are various measurements with lots of cross-outs and question marks, nearly illegible, and even more notes on the properties of each ingredient. And then, at the very bottom of the page, there is another list entitled masking agents. At least a dozen possibilities have been crossed out, and the last possibility is underlined multiple times: Mimbulus mimbletonia, Stinksap (?).