MEMENTO MORI | DRACO MALFOY

FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY

Draco Malfoy was angry. He was angry at Professor Snape for forcing him to attend his regular classes as if nothing had happened. As if he wasn't the one who found Ophelia unconscious, practically buried under a thick sheet of powdery snow. As if he wasn't the one who carried her limp, cold body all the way from the grounds near Hagrid's Hut to the Hospital Wing in the middle of a snow storm. As if he wasn't the one who had the brains to immediately call for Professor Snape to use a glamour charm on Ophelia's Dark Mark before Madam Pomfrey could get her hands on her and immediately ship her off to Azkaban. No, it was as if Draco hadn't done any of those things, and now he was stuck in this god-forsaken Charms class learning about the Colour Change Charm. It all seemed so pointless now in the grand scheme of things. Draco and Ophelia were no longer children attending school to learn and have regular experiences. They were now preparing for war. A war that they probably were going to be on the losing side of, because if Harry Potter had proven anything at all in the five years of being at Hogwarts: good always prevails.

Draco immediately flinched at the sudden feeling of someone touching him. He glanced up from his textbook, noticing Blaise's hand rested firmly on his shoulder, and he held an empathetic look in his dark eyes. "You alright, mate?"

"Of course I'm not alright, Zabini." He muttered sharply under his breath. "How am I supposed to be alright when we're being forced to go back to our regular lives and pretend nothing happened when Effie is quite literally fighting for hers? How does Snape expect us to stay away from the Hospital Wing? She needs to be constantly watched. What if Snape takes too long and his glamour spell wears off and someone sees—"

Blaise's hand immediately retracted from Draco's shoulder, falling quickly back to his side while all empathy drained from his face and was replaced with a look of intense fear. Blaise clearly still hadn't come to terms with the fact that his best friend was a Death Eater and he'd had no idea. He'd had no inclination as to what Effie was struggling with and the guilt racked through him as though he felt he should have noticed something was off. Blaise had, however, handled it better than Thomas, who had broken down into hysterics at the sight of the ghastly mark on his cousin's forearm. Snape had had to cast a silencing charm on the older boy before Madam Pomfrey would hear and reserve him a room in the wing for mental maladies at St Mungo's.

Blaise's gaze returned to his textbook while toying with the feather of his quill. It was nearly impossible for both boys to concentrate on anything else when there was so much more going on. It had been three days already and Effie still hadn't woken up. Madame Pomfrey was unable to determine exactly how long Ophelia had been unconscious in the blistering cold, but she did say that it would take some time to warm her up from the inside out. Then, they'd need to wait and see if she were to wake up at all. It did give Draco some comfort though, knowing that if Madame Pomfrey was able to handle this without sending Effie to St. Mungo's, then perhaps there was a chance she would wake up and be perfectly fine.

When the dreaded charms class finally ended, Draco pushed out his stool and quickly collected his books before rushing from the classroom without another glance at Blaise. He'd have liked to try to sneak into the Hospital Wing between lessons to at least catch a glimpse of Ophelia and see how she was doing. He'd have liked to hold her hand and speak to her unconscious state, but Snape wasn't allowing him anywhere near her. It was infuriating.

As Draco walked with long, quick strides, he was quickly stopped by a meek voice calling his name. Gritting his teeth, he spun on his heels to see Daphne Greengrass rushing towards him with her Charms' text clutched to her chest.