Draco Malfoy and the Alcoholic's Wish

Will you be quiet!

"Draco, are you awake?"

"Yes, thank you" I mumbled, although even that was too loud. What was going on? I thought for a second, then realised I already knew the answer. I'd been knocked out cold again, probably, an accidental overdose of my favourite drug, and had been caught by Snape, who had lead me back to bed again to sleep it off.

"Wrong again, Malfoy" replied a man from the corner of the room snippily, and I opened my eye a fraction to see his face. This wasn't my room, nor his- this wasn't even the sickbay- where was I?

"You had to be taken out of Hogwarts" he answered again, and my brain pulsated unhappily from too many people reading it. "You tore your stomach, so the healers had to repair that, as well as flush all the alcohol out of your system. You liver is damaged, your kidneys are a wreck- you're seventeen, and your body reflects that of a sixty year old drunkard. You've therefore been sectioned and referred to the Mental health program at the school, and are now on medication to prevent you drinking. Any questions?"

If I did have any, I kept them to myself, seeing they would get me no where. The healer smiled, thinking my silence was me complying to her little program, while Snape grimaced at her positivity, and fixed me with a stony glare to keep my mouth shut.

My stomach still hurt, and just as badly, just in a different way. Before it was churning and felt like someone with scissors for hands had just shoved his hand inside me and was slowly twisting away. But now it was a horrible, searing burning pain, that didn't make me feel sick as such, it just hurt, like a scab that's not quite ready to be picked off. In fairness, I was wavering through so many layers of drugs that I wasn't quite sure what pain was anymore.

"You'll have to stay here to talk to our senior consultant" chirped the healer, who came back with another pain reliever. "You might want to take this." I refused, thinking that more pain relievers on top of my current state wouldn't do me any good.

"I don't want to" I slurred. I had been drunk quite a few times recently, but this new feeling was like nothing I had ever experienced- I'd somehow never dabbled with drugs, not trusting myself to know the difference between cocaine and Muggle washing detergent.

"Don't argue. Just take it" growled Snape. He was looking less and less pleased by the minute- I knew he wasn't the biggest fan of hospitals, and my lack of co-operation was seemingly not helping.

"I would listen to your dad, Sweetie" added the healer, holding out the off-pink drug and smiling innocently. "Because otherwise, what I'm about to do next will be so excruciatingly painful you would be in danger of dying of shock, and on my ward, we like to protect against unnecessary deaths."

I scoffed, jarring my insides painfully. "He's not my dad-far from it" I grumbled,  as I obliged and took the potion, realising instantly why I had put off taking it in the first place. It felt like I was asleep- I just could not think of anything, try as I might, and my eyelids were as heavy as lead, so I couldn't push them open to check my surroundings if I tried. Yet I was still awake, I could still hear everything- the sharp intake of breath from Snape, and the silence from the nurse as she concentrated.

 However, I assume that at some point, many hours later, I must have fallen asleep as when I next opened my eyes I was back in Hogwarts, the squeak of Healer shoes replaced by the firm taps of Snape's smart work shoes and McGonagall's high heeled boots. The lingering smell of various different plants, some sweet, some foul, hung in the air like the tension that rested on everyone's shoulders as the seemed to be waiting for something. McGonagall moved away after a while, to talk with Madame Pomferey in private, while Snape stayed, too stoic to sit down in one of the offensively-bright orange plastic chairs, preferring to stand, crossing his arms across his chest defensively.