|Draco Malfoy (dracowished) wrote in wished,|
@ 2009-10-02 23:56:00
|Entry tags:||!1997: 10, !complete, draco malfoy, severus snape|
Who: Draco and Snape
What: Potions Accident
Where: Potions room, Dungeons
When: While most people are at Hogsmeade
Warnings: TBA, but definitely some gore.
Draco had been thinking about this since he'd come back to Hogwarts, though a specific plan hadn't formed until the day of the Quidditch trials. Someone had mentioned something about Hogsmeade, and when he'd realized that so many people would be out of the castle - so many Professors with them - it had just come to him. He couldn't pinpoint the moment that the strange doubling started, even if he had vague suspicions that it centered around that embarrassing moment with Potter in the bathroom mirror, but he could pinpoint where the most prevalent danger was. Where most of his new anxiety came from. The damn Mark itched all the time, burned even when he knew it was only his mind assuming that it burned and remembering the pain of it being burned on to his arm in the first place. Dark Magic that had felt so damn familiar. Hadn't he lived in it his entire sodding life?
He didn't think it could be cut out. Didn't think it could be charmed out of his skin even if he could show it to anyone. When he'd shown it to Dumbledore the man had only looked at him, all old and sad and forgiving and disappointed, and never said anything about how he could change things. But Draco was a Malfoy,and he could change things if he bloody well wanted to. He was sick of feeling confused. Of feeling like he was losing his mind every time someone spoke to him, or he noticed something that seemed off in that vague sort of way he couldn't pinpoint. So he was going to do something about that. It couldn't be cut out, but he thought there might be a way that it could be turned off.
It wasn't hard to get Slughorn to agree to give him a pass to the classroom for Saturday. Draco wasn't Slughorn's favorite, not even near the top of the list, but he was a NEWT Potions student, and good at the work. Everyone, Slughorn included, would be at the Village, and of those that weren't who would spend their Saturday in the Potions classroom? He had it to himself. He'd gone in the moment he knew that everyone had left for Hogsmeade and started - the Potion he'd read about would need two hours to brew at least, and as he worked it, stirring counterclockwise and adding the adder's venom and unicorn horn at precise times, he wondered if there were any other way and he knew that there wasn't. If this worked, he had to be able to claim that it was an accident - Potions mishap. Not his fault. (He was his father's son, after all.) If it didn't work, he had to be able to claim the same thing. That he hadn't been trying to do anything to the Mark - and wasn't it all fine anyway, nothing had been hurt except his skin.
Lost in his thoughts, the two hours went by quickly. At something methodical like Potions making, that strange sense of doubling never slid in on him, and he was glad for that. The potion finished, though, he thought for a moment that he didn't have the nerve to go through with it. Then he rolled up his sleeves, and the evidence of why he had to find the nerve was black and angry on his pale forearm. A muttered charm caused the cauldron to begin to tip, and Draco bit his lip and held both of his arms - it wouldn't do to just do the one, that would make it obvious - out where the liquid would naturally flow when it spilled. He was shaking, but there was no one to see.
He closed his eyes, and a moment later the cauldron tipped again and the acidic potion flowed out over both of his forearms, burning away flesh. For a moment, it was the second most painful thing Draco Malfoy had ever experienced - and then the Dark Magic of his Mark burned through his whole body, worse than it had even when it was put there. It couldn't be burned away, it couldn't be turned off. Draco understood, in the moment before he passed out, that he could pour this acid over his whole body - burn all his flesh away - and what would be left would be his bleached bones, and that Mark.