Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. This story is purely for entertainment purposes only. I am
making no money from this.
Notes: A student informs Professor Snape of disturbing news. Draco awakens in the Hospital Wing, and learns that changes
will be made because of his condition.
Professor Snape frowned as he went through his cabinet of potion ingredients. It wasn’t that anything was missing, although
something could have been taken while he had been away, but because something was nagging at his subconscious. It was as
if some deep instinct was telling him that something was dreadfully wrong, but he couldn’t think of what it could possibly be.
He was jarred from his counting as the door to the Potions classroom slammed open. He spun around, a sneer on his face as
he saw a student run in. He recognized her as the girl who had been panting after Draco for several school terms now. “I
trust there is a reason for this . . .” His words broke off as he saw a glittering piece of jewelry in the girl’s hand. It couldn’t
be . . . but it looked just like the one that Draco had been wearing when Snape had met him at the train.
“Professor Snape! You have to come quick! Draco’s hurt!” She sniffled miserably, her body shaking as she panted for
breath. “I . . . I didn’t mean for it to happen! HONEST!”
Snape felt all of the blood rushing from his head. He almost felt faint. “What have you done? Where is he?”
“It was an accident! I didn’t mean it . . . just an accident . . . an accident.” She babbled on and on, shaking her head
repeatedly as tears fell in rivers from her eyes.
Snape stalked over to the girl and grasped her shoulders roughly. He shook her once, watching as her hair flew about her face
before he raised his hand and brought it down across her cheek. The satisfying sound of skin meeting skin nearly echoed
throughout the room.
“Calm yourself!” Snape hissed out bitterly. “Now, take a breath and tell me what fool thing you have done!”
Pansy Parkinson looked up at him, sniffling pathetically. She raised her hand to her face, staring at her instructor with wide
eyes. “T-The stairs . . . outside of the Slytherin dorm. I-I didn’t mean it. I was only having a bit of fun.” She gulped, her
entire body breaking out into tremors. “It was only a joke, I didn’t mean to hurt him. H-He fell . . . the stairs. He fell down
the stairs. I tried to catch him, to stop him . . . but it broke . . .” She held up her hand, the chain of Draco’s necklace twisted
about her fingers, the sparkling amethyst pendant swinging back and forth with the shaking of her hand.
Snape snatched it from her, shoving it deep into his pocket. “Go and get Madam Pomfrey. Tell her it’s an emergency!”
Snape spat out. “Go! Now!” He shoved her.
Pansy stumbled, nearly falling before she caught her balance and broke into a run, leaving the Potions classroom with as much
speed as she could manage. Snape hastily departed the classroom as well, heading in the opposite direction that Pansy had
hurried off in. He had to get to the Slytherin dormitory, to see how bad off Draco was . . . Snape silently prayed, if only for
Draco’s sake, that his unborn child had not been injured in some manner.
By the time he reached the area that Pansy had indicated Draco to be in, a crowd had already begun to collect. Not all of the
students gathered there were from Slytherin. “Get back to your dorms or whatever class you’re supposed to be in before I
deduct one hundred points from each of your houses!” Snape bellowed, pushing his way past the gawking students. His
threats, as usual, worked perfectly, since the hallway emptied within a matter of mere seconds.
Snape rushed down the flight of stairs, quickly dropping to his knees beside Draco’s immobile form, worried immensely for
the youth. Draco was lying on his right side, his one arm pinned beneath him, the other lying limp on the stone floor. The
blonde’s right wrist was twisted in an unnatural way, a couple of fingers on the same hand bent nearly all the way back.
Professor Snape couldn’t see any other injuries on his body . . . his robes covered him and hid any further wounds from view.
However, Snape could see the blood seeping from the gash in Draco’s forehead, the swelling around the cut that oozed a good
deal of blood, staining the strands of white-blonde hair and pooling on the floor below him.
Professor Snape hesitantly set his fingers along the side of Draco’s throat, nearly sighing in relief as he found a steady pulse.
At least Draco wasn’t dead . . . that was a good thing. Still, he was concerned about the young Slytherin, worried that his
condition would worsen . . . when would Pomfrey get here?
He didn’t have much longer to wait. Not only did Pansy return with Madam Pomfrey . . . but Professor Dumbledore as well.
Snape sighed . . . this was bound to be awkward. Madam Pomfrey immediately knelt down and set to work, examining Draco
with care, using her exceptional medical witchcraft skills to good use. After a few moments, she requested Snape’s help and
the two of them rolled the youth over onto his back.
“Is he okay?” Pansy asked, a waver of fear to her voice.
Snape sighed, turning to glare at the girl. “Go to your dorm . . . We’ll figure a suitable punishment for your . . . bad taste in
jokes . . . at a later time.” He ordered, thinking it best he have some time to consider his actions before he dealt punishment to
the girl. At the moment, he wanted to send her straight to Azkaban for her cruel behavior.
Pansy squeaked out some unintelligible reply, then scurried off to the dorm, casting a glance back at Draco before she
disappeared within. Now that she was gone, Snape felt it was safe to speak about a topic he knew had to be discussed before
Pomfrey could see to Draco’s injuries.
“Madam Pomfrey . . . before you treat Mr. Malfoy with any ointments or potions, I feel that I must advise you of a matter of
utmost delicacy.” Snape said guardedly, looking around to be sure that no one was within earshot. He didn’t think that Draco
would appreciate anyone else overhearing this.
“Yes, what is it?” Madam Pomfrey asked, stilling in her actions to look at Professor Snape.
Professor Snape took in a breath, letting it out slowly before he uttered the words. “Young Mr. Malfoy here is pregnant.”
“Oh, my.” Professor Dumbledore whispered.
“But . . . how? Was it a spell? Who is the father . . . not you, I should hope, Serverus?”
“Poppy . . . I am not in the habit of carrying on affairs with my students.” Snape glared at the woman for even suggesting
such a thing. “No, I am not the father. And it was no spell that did this.” He took another breath. “Draco is part Veela . . . as
Professor Dumbledore is already well aware.”
Dumbledore nodded. “I knew that he had been in heat earlier this year, but I had no idea that he had gotten himself into . . .
“Yes, well . . . Draco wished it to remain a secret until he was prepared to speak of it himself. In fact, he was going to inform
the both of you of his condition this afternoon . . . I advised him that it would be in his best interests to do so.” Snape said.
“He was going to approach you after the next meal . . . he was tired and claimed to need rest beforehand.”
“And the father?” Dumbledore questioned.
“Ronald Weasley.” Snape responded. “As far as I know, Draco was still working up the nerve to approach him with the
“Enough of this.” Pomfrey chided. “Help me with him, Serverus . . . I need to get him to the Hospital Wing so I can take care
of his injuries. There’s nothing too serious . . . but I’ll have to check to be sure if his child is unharmed.”
Professor Snape nodded, following Madam Pomfrey’s instructions exactly as he assisted her in transporting Draco to the
Hospital Wing. Once there, he waited anxiously by the blonde’s bedside, fearful as he dreaded the outcome of Madam
Pomfrey’s examinations. He dug his hand into his pocket, his fingers idly brushing against Draco’s amulet.
The ache in his head pulsated with each and every breath that he took, throbbing in perfect synchronicity with his heartbeat.
Where was he? What was going on? He tried to think, but it simply hurt too much to try, hurt to even breathe. He tried to
open his eyes, only to groan and squint them shut as pain seared through them like red-hot pokers.
“Malfoy . . . Draco . . . do . . . hear me, Draco?” A faint voice whispered, the words broken, difficult to understand.
Something firm and warm touched his cheek . . . a hand. Once again, Draco struggled to open his eyes, blinking as the light
blinded him. Nothing was focused, a number of formless masses looming over him, faces that he couldn’t distinguish staring
down at him.
“Draco?” That same voice asked again, more clear this time.
Draco blinked again, then squinted until the faces came into focus. There, he saw now . . . Madam Pomfrey was leaning over
him, as was Professor Snape . . . and Professor Dumbledore was nearby as well. The Hospital Wing . . . he must be in the
Hospital Wing. But why? Had something happened to him?
With sudden force, it all came crashing back to him. The dungeons . . . the cold hallway. He remembered Pansy’s taunts, her
pokes, her cruel laughter over his condition . . . the stairs . . . falling . . . he had fallen. Oh, Merlin! Worry slammed into him.
He gasped in fear, tears welling up in his eyes. Intense shudders, that only left painful aches, swept through his sore body. He
couldn’t stop them. He was frightened, worried about his unborn child. He didn’t care about himself, only his child. Had he
lost it? But he couldn’t ask . . . couldn’t find the words to express his terrors. Did Pomfrey and Dumbledore know? Had
Snape told them?
As if reading Draco’s mind, Professor Snape held his hand over Draco’s left shoulder, forcing him to remain still on the bed.
“Calm yourself, Draco. You’re fine and so is your child. I had to inform Madam Pomfrey of your condition, but she assures
me that you both will be well.”
Draco turned his eyes to look at Madam Pomfrey, his breath still coming to him only in short, raspy pants. “Really?” He
whispered, not caring that his voice quavered.
Madam Pomfrey offered him a kind smile and nodded. “Yes . . . you’ve suffered a number of broken bones to your right wrist
and several of your fingers, your arm, and your shoulder, as well as a minor head injury. But there is nothing too serious. The
damage could have been far worse.” She set her hand down on his shoulder. “And your child is growing strong and healthy.”
Draco closed his eyes and allowed a sigh of relief to pass his lips. It was Professor Dumbledore’s voice that next caught his
“Can you tell us what happened to you in the corridor this afternoon, Draco? How did this accident occur?” Dumbledore
Draco looked to where the headmaster was standing at the foot of his bed. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before
answering, not all that comfortable with divulging all of this information, even if Dumbledore probably already knew. “Pansy .
. . S-She found out about my . . . condition. I had just told the father, told Ron about the baby . . . Pansy followed me and
overheard everything. I went back to the dorm . . . I was tired. Then she ran over. She was teasing me, poking at me. I was
backing up and then the stairs . . . I fell. I don’t really remember anything else . . . it’s all kind of hazy.”
“I don’t believe the girl actually meant to harm him.” Snape said. “But her actions cannot go unpunished, and I don’t think
this will be the last incident to occur. Miss Parkinson isn’t well-known for her abilities to keep secrets . . . the rest of the
school has most likely heard of this news by now. As ashamed as I am to say this, Slytherin House is not the safest place for
him any longer . . . the students there tend to be . . . how shall I say this . . . cruel when it comes to delicate matters such as
“True . . . true.” Professor Dumbledore nodded, his features turning pensive for a moment. “Well, I suppose there is really
only one thing that can be done.” He sighed. “Draco will have to be transferred to a different house. Perhaps he would be
most comfortable in Gryffindor House . . . unless Mr. Weasley didn’t take the news of becoming a father so well?”
“He . . . He was happy about it.” Draco whispered, feeling a bit tired. His head hurt and he wanted to go back to sleep, to
forget about the throbbing pain that washed throughout his arm, throughout his entire body. “And I think Harry and Hermione
know . . . Ron said that Hermione was reading about Veela males . . . I’m only guessing though.”
“Might I suggest you allow the boy to rest?” Madam Pomfrey cut in. “I still have to set his bones to mending . . . he’ll be here
a couple of days at least.”
“A fine idea, Poppy.” Dumbledore nodded. “Serverus, if you would be so kind as to collect young Mr. Malfoy’s belongings
from the Slytherin dorm and transport them to Gryffindor, I will inform them of their new house mate and make the
appropriate changes to the dorm to accommodate him.”
Professor Snape nodded in reply, then silently left the room. Draco watched the man leave, then turned tired eyes to stare up
at Dumbledore. He didn’t really care that he was being taken from his school house . . . his only concern was for his unborn
child. And it most certainly would be safer in any house other than Slytherin. He knew his house mates well enough to know
that they would tease him endlessly, just as Pansy had done . . . perhaps worse things would happen to him. He stood a better
chance of not being teased in any other house . . . and with Ron there at least he would have someone on his side.
“Sir . . . do you think . . . is it possible . . .” He gulped, feeling quite embarrassed to even be thinking of this. “Could I see
Ron? I mean . . . could you tell him that I’d like it if he were to visit me here?”
Dumbledore smiled. “I’m afraid that’s a question best left up to Madam Pomfrey.” He turned to the woman. “Do you think
Mr. Malfoy is up to having visitors?”
Madam Pomfrey sighed shaking her head. “No, I don’t think it’s wise for anyone to visit him at this time . . . however, since
this is a special case, I think I could allow one visitor . . . but only for a short while.”
Draco felt a smile tug at his lips, returning his gaze to Professor Dumbledore. The twinkle in the man’s eyes was bright as he
“I’ll tell Ron you would appreciate a visit from him then.” Dumbledore said, laying his hand softly upon Draco’s face, just
ghosting his fingers along Draco’s cheek.
“Thank you, sir.” Draco replied, fighting his own weariness.
“Now, you rest, my boy. I’m certain that you would prefer to be able to stay awake for Mr. Weasley’s visit.” Dumbledore
said, and with a smile he turned and left, bidding Draco a good afternoon before striding out of the Hospital Wing.
“Here, drink this.” Madam Pomfrey urged, wrapping an arm about Draco’s back and helping him to lean forward a little as she
pressed the edge of a goblet to his lips.
Draco drank, swallowing an unpleasant-tasting brew. He grimaced as he drank, not at all appreciating the flavor. Still, he
trusted that Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t make him drink something harmful to him, so it would be best to do as she said.
The liquid tingled as it went down, warming his throat, then spreading out and heating the rest of his body from the inside out.
He felt heavy, his eyelids becoming like weights . . . soon enough he closed them, not willing to try and keep them open any
longer. It wasn’t long before he had fallen into a peaceful sleep. He only hoped that when and if Ron did arrive, that he would
be aware enough to know he was there.
To Be Continued . . .