Quocumque Modo Part II: The Promise

Poisoned Wine, Poisoned Words

"And when it's over?" she asked.

"We will have our day again," he said.

*****

Valeria questioned Daphne as if her own friend was the culprit, hounding her for information: When? Where? Who was there? Why?!

Daphne's answers gave little reassurance. All she knew was that Weasley and Potter were with Slughorn and the former was quickly saved, now in recovery. No one seemed too bothered by it except for Valeria. Overwhelmed by panic, Valeria made an excuse to run back to the dormitories to fetch a book she had forgotten. It was an inelegant exit, but haste mattered more than believability. If no one cared, than her discontent would easily be overlooked. As soon as she was out of sight of the students gathered in an around the Great Hall, she picked up her pace in rhythm with the pounding of her heart.

Clumsily, she tore through her trunk in the solitude of the sixth-year girls' dormitory, becoming more nauseous the longer she looked. Her breath refused to settle until she finally felt the cold glass of the poison vial on her fingertips. She sat back onto the floor, cradling it in her hand, relieved that it was still completely full. How else could poison have gotten into the castle? Perhaps stolen from the stores? But who would want to poison Weasley? Plenty of people disliked him, but no one hated him enough to want him dead.

Perhaps she was working herself up over nothing. After all, strange things had been happening with increasing severity for years at Hogwarts, especially when it came to Potter and his followers. She put the vial back in the depths of her trunk, wrapped it tight in layers of clothing, and cleaned up the disorder she made. She was coming up with excuses to deliver regarding her hasty exit from breakfast when she stepped into the common room to see Draco, pacing about and running his hands through his hair.

And her heart dropped through her body to the floor like an anchor.

It may have been his guilty expression or anxious disposition; perhaps both in combination with the fact that he was in the common room now. Whatever the case, she knew it at once; Draco had poisoned Ron Weasley.

But how? Draco wasn't brewing any poisons and getting anything into the castle was a Herculean task. Except, she realized with horror, that supplies to make potions could get in or were already housed in the castle. They just needed a brewer to put them together and that was her.

Draco never needed to steal the vial from her trunk, not when she had left him alone with it for countless hours in the Room of Requirement before dumping it.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Valeria asked quietly.

"I can explain," Draco said.

"Explain what? You'll tell me what you did, but you won't tell me why."

"I told you, I can't tell you—"

"I don't care! You said that whatever you're doing is in part to protect me, so do please explain how the hell using my poison for attempted murder protects me!" she yelled. He approached quickly, gesturing for her to keep her voice down.

"It was a backup," he said through his teeth. "It wasn't meant for Weasley and you were never meant to find out."

"But poison? Poison, of all things? Poison can be traced, especially rare ones like that one. Poison can easily fall into the wrong hands. Poison is dangerous and sloppy. Poison makes me look suspicious instead of you!"

"No one will suspect you," he said.

"I'm the one who's been studying potions with Slughorn and was introduced to his Potion Master friends. There are only a few people in this castle who are even capable of getting their hands on poison like that and only one of them is associated with you."