Potions Class Gone Wrong -Harry Potter Fanfiction-

Chapter Three-The Headmasters Office

     I went way longer without updating this than I wanted to. I am sorry. Really. I actually really like this story and the plot (Which I have planned out. I'm getting better at that, instead of starting with a dust bunny that's been taking up space and going all over the place with it) and you'd think that would cause me to procrastinate less, but apparently not. 

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     Draco did not linger. He left soon after Harry was place on a hospital bed. He didn't look back as he went out the doors, and so didn't see Harry's slightly disappointed gaze on his back as he did so. If he had, the look in the big doe eyes would have made him falter in his fast movements. 

     He was out the doors and walking quickly to his next class in moments. He soon arrived to Transfiguration, and sighed as he watched the Gryffindors around the room, pretending not to hear all the whispers concerning the Mini-Potter. 

     Meanwhile, Harry was sulking in his hospital bed, a pout on his face. 

     When dinner rolled around, he was thoroughly annoyed. His classes had been buzzing, his fellow Slytherins not speaking but seeming to silently communicate. He was surprised he wasn't hearing whispers all over the school. He had no doubt the Slytherins hadn't said anything, but he would have expected the Gryffindors to be shouting it for the whole school to hear. 

     He searched the Gryffindor table absentmindedly. He was only slightly surprised to find that Potter was missing. He rolled his eyes as Pansy simpered next to him and silently ate his dinner. 

     He didn't expect his head of house to walk up to him.

     Nor did he expect to be told the Headmaster had summoned him.

     He gracefully moved away from his table, briefly mourning the loss of his meal, before walking stiffly to the Headmasters office, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. Professor Snape had told him the password lowly when he was informed of his summons, and so when he came upon the stone gargoyle he shouted out the password, ("Lemon Cake!") feeling stupid. 

     He climbed the rotating steps quickly, his knocking clipped. A soft "Come in." came moments later, and he opened the door, unexpectedly facing a chair next to another, occupied one. 

     Occupied by Potter, that is. The small boy glanced up at him, eyes cast downward, fingers fidgeting with the sleeves of his now properly fitting clothes. He pulled at them, a small frown on his face as though he couldn't understand why they weren't over sized, before his hands stilled, his posture fixing itself in a way no six year old should know, his face carefully blank and Draco had to wonder if that was a skill Potter learned in his years before Hogwarts, as he had never seen the boy in such a state. 

     "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for coming. Please, take a seat. Lemon Drop?" Dumbledore offered, holding out a small bowl full of the hard yellow candies as Draco stiffly took a seat next to Potter, the latter still staring at Dumbledore with a blank, hard, expressionless mask.

     "I'm sure you're both well aware that this must not be a public event. Mr. Potter is in enough danger as it is at the moment, and having unwanted attention cast onto the matter would not be good. Mr. Potter, please excuse me for saying so, but you are not in your most powerful state at the moment," Dumbledore said gently, only to receive a blank stare and blink in returned. He forged on, however. 

     "Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure you understand the seriousness of the matter at hand as well." Waiting for some sort on acknowledgement, he continued. "Now, boys, you understand that we need to take precaution. Which is why I'm sure you understand why Mr. Potter here cannot be seen by anyone." He said, voice grave. 

     Draco raised an eyebrow in response, but a small voice broke in before he could. 

     "What about all the others, in class? The Gryffindors and Sly-Slythi-Slytherins," Harry said, voice as emotionless as his face, albeit high, bouncing off the walls ever-so-slightly. His face morphed into a small scowl for a fraction of a second as he struggled to pronounced the word, before returning to a mask, while Draco's lips turned up slightly in a smirk.

     "Not to worry. I have taken the proper precautions, and no one will say a word about this incident." Dumbledore said reassuringly. Harry blinked at him. Draco frowned, as well. Maybe Dumbledore had done it while he was in that class with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. 

     "If I'm gonna be stuck in a room, then what about school?" Harry inquired.

     "Well, I hardly believe you're in a condition to do class work, Mr. Potter. Please do not take offense," Dumbledore said, smiling warmly. Harry just huffed, before he cast his eyes downward, face still cold as stone. 

     "Sir, I fail to see why I am here," Draco broke in after a moment. Dumbledore smiled at him, and Harry's eyes snapped to him for a brief moment through his fringe before his eyes fell away, seemingly coming to a stop on Fawkes perch. 

     "Mr. Malfoy, forgive me. I believe, with you being near Mr. Potter in the early stages of his transformation, that you may have created a bond of sorts. Thus, I have decided that the best option would be to place Mr. Potter in your care," 

     Dumbledore hardly finished his sentence by the time Draco was out of his seat. 

     "Excuse me? Headmaster, you can't possibly believe that! He hates me, I hate him! What's all this rubbish about a bond? I took him to the Hospital Wing! He's the Chosen One, and I'm the son of a Death Eater! You must'int think that this is the correct solution to this? What about my school work?" He objected furiously. 

     Dumbledore watched him carefully as he said all this, eyes twinkling. Draco felt his eyelid twitch. 

     "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I do believe that. You have no reason to worry about school work, as I shall have it delivered to yours and Mr. Potters private quarters. Speaking of which, you shall be taken to, now, by my a House-Elf. Dinky!" Dumbledore called with a snap of his fingers, and Draco could only fume as a small House-Elf quickly lead them away. The were on the sixth floor when Draco remembered Harry.

     He looked behind him, to see Harry looking up at him, face confused. "What?" He snapped, getting annoyed at that look. Potter was not adorable.

     "What are...what are Death...Death Eaters?"

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     Any body else reminded the the seven dwarfs from Snow White when coming up with names for House-Elves? No? Just me? Okay.