A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Seventeen

Blaise waits until there's thirty minutes left of dinner to come up with the worst case scenario. Draco hasn't shown up or sent him a memo that he'll be late. Ron isn't sitting in his usual seat next to Finnigan, either, and for some reason Blaise feels an inexplicable surge of anger rise in his throat that makes his appetite go away.

So he sits there for the remainder of the meal, trying to figure out what to do when Headmistress McGonagall clears her throat atop the podium. The Great Hall turns silent as she waits until every whisper to clear to speak.

"As many of you know, Holidays are quickly approaching," she pointedly stares when a couple of students cheerfully holler. The corner of her mouth lifts the tiniest bit. "I wanted to assure you that the castle remains open to house any of you that wish to stay, and the rest of you that wish to head home for the Holidays are welcome to split their vacation as they see fit. Parents are also welcome to stay to a limit of a few days with a permission slip signed by me. We will have a grand ball to welcome the Holidays on Friday before the train arrives on Saturday morning.

"Furthermore, I want to encourage every one of you to..."

The doors burst open in that moment and Blaise turns to find Ron panting, his hair is disheveled and his eyes are wide. McGonagall's words die in her throat as they stare each other down, seemingly having a silent conversation. She clears her throat the same time he takes a slow step back, and then full on turns and sprints out of the Great Hall.

"This concludes dinner. You are all dismissed, head back to your dorms."

She steps off the podium and turns to say something to Professor Slughorn. He nods.

Blaise is beyond confused as he shuffles along with his fellow Slytherins back to the Dungeons. He lingers around the back, where he knows he can't be jinxed, and then there's a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Come with me, boy," Professor Slughorn looks worried. His bushy eyebrows are pinched together and his cheeks are ashen.

He doesn't wait for Blaise to say anything, he just turns and heads in the opposite direction. Now, Blaise starts to panic. What if something happened to Draco? What if that's why he wasn't at dinner? Oh, Merlin, what am I going to do?

"Come along, we need to hurry," the Professor mumbles in front of him.

Blaise realizes they're headed upstairs, and his heart sinks. Does it have to do with Potter?

He's stuck in his head, imagining the worst, as Professor Slughorn hauls him up the spiral staircase that leads to the Headmistress' office. He pushes the door open, and Blaise has just enough time to see Ron lift his head from someone's face and then there's coughing and spluttering and Granger rises off the floor. She's hacking up a dark thick liquid, it almost looks like petroleum, into a basin and her hair is plastered around her face, drenched in water like the rest of her clothes.

Ron throws a towel around her shoulders and pats her back as she finishes spitting out whatever was ingested. The door opens behind them and McGonagall walks in with a soaked Draco close behind her, shivering and covered in his own towel. The Headmistress's expression is grim and her hands are tightly folded in front of her.

She walks around the people in her office towards her desk, where a teapot automatically rises and pours fresh tea into a cup and then there's a sugar cube that pops itself into the cup, a spoon follows, stirring everything. "Ms. Granger, we are glad to have you in our midst once again."

"Thank," she coughs up more gob. "Thank you, Professor."

The Headmistress looks up to Draco, who seems to try and hide behind his towel. "I suppose you have a very reasonable explanation for endangering yourself like this."