The relative dearth of students in the castle made the trip to the hospital wing easier than it might have been, and Poppy gave him no more than a wary glance as he took his pick of the stores she kept - potions accidents weren't uncommon, after all. He made it out without being bothered, and had begun to descend the stairs to the dungeons again when he stumbled against the banister, thrown off-balance by the sudden, searing pain in his arm. He straightened quickly and kept walking, hurrying now, to the classroom where he'd left Draco. This wasn't an entirely new feeling, but it wasn't one he came by often, either. And there was always that hint of fear, however irrational, that perhaps this time, the Dark Lord was angry because he knew.
He shut himself into the potions classroom again, his face pale and tight. - He was not, apparently, the only one suffering his wrath at the moment. He didn't find it very comforting. "Something's happened," he said, setting the bandages and jar down on the table beside him, and looking him in the eye. "Do you have any idea what?"