Draco Malfoy had been sitting on the couch, brooding as he did in the evenings lately. He still had another month of detention left to go for the single spell he had cast against Potter. While most of him thought that was extremely unfair – considering where he had gotten the spell in the first place – that small part of his heart knew he shouldn’t have cursed Potter.

Well… At least in front of witnesses. Dark corridors were completely game.

Still, he figured it would’ve been fine to use a spell out of a book that been placed in the library by the Headmaster himself. Surely there couldn’t have been that many bad spells in it. It was his fault in the first place for putting it into the library.

Nonetheless, the whole affair was unfair.

He was still doing the time, making sure to complain loudly about it to anyone who would listen.

Though, what he really wanted was a chance to redeem himself in Professor Snape’s eyes. Any interaction with the man was strained. He knew it must’ve been just terrible to be forced to live with Prince Potter. And it was his fault that he had subjected his favorite professor to that. He probably never get the change to make it up to Snape.

Funny how Fate loved to prove people wrong all the time.

“Draco!”

At the sudden sharp use of his name, Draco let out an undignified squawk and bolted to his feet, hastily adjusting his shirt coat.

“Professor?”

“In the fire.”

Draco turned, before nodding. He avoided showing any signs of his apprehension. “Professor Snape, what can I do for you?” he asked, keeping his tone polite.

“I’m issuing a castle wide emergency,” said Snape. Through the flames of the Floo, Draco could see the man’s grim expression. “I need the Prefects from all houses to cooperate together. I want all students who have had one or more detentions with Umbridge to report to the Infirmary immediately. No exceptions. Don’t let anyone fall through the cracks.”

Draco faltered, stunned by this massive request.

“What happened?”

Snape’s facial features tightened. “A Black Quill has been used on the students,” he hissed.

Draco’s mouth dropped before he could stopped himself. “What?” he gasped, knowing full well of the quill’s history. Was that toad of a teacher really that stupid? It was one thing to use illegal objects, but to use them on the students? Was she really asking for all the Pureblood families to wring her fat neck? She was idiotic.

“Who?” asked Draco, though he already knew there was only one student who had so many detentions with the woman. If Snape was looking like this… Merlin, Potter must be in a bad way.

“Harry Potter.”

Draco pursed his lips together.

“I need you to find every student, Draco,” said Snape, his tone turning more serious and this time, Draco could hear the hidden pleading concern. “Every last one. Every child who has been touched by the quill. Start with Slytherin; second, go to Gryffindor. Then, go to Ravenclaw and, finally, Hufflepuff. Use the Floo; it’s faster. Inform the other Prefects, as well as the Head Boy and Head Girl. There are no individual houses here. I need you all to work together. Be a unified front. Password for all is United Light.”

Draco nodded, keeping his expression serious.

“Can I count on you, Draco?”

Draco straightened. “Of course, Professor,” he said, lowering his head slightly. “I’ll start right away.”

“Thank you, Draco.”

And then, Snape was gone. It took a moment before Draco snapped into action. He had his work cut out for him.

It took only a few minutes to round up the other prefects in Slytherin. After that, it was only a matter of gathering the rest of the house. Since it was later in the day, searching through the dorms and assembling the entire Slytherin house hadn’t been difficult. Once the other Prefects realized the situation, it had been rather short work to find the students who had secretly suffered.

The older students, when learning what Umbridge had been doing, were furious.

Seven students had been in detention with Umbridge. There were two Half Bloods and five Muggleborns, all of which came from neutral families who didn’t openly support the Ministry of Magic. The Muggleborn families were self explanatory. It was obvious that the toad was targeting supposed enemies of the Ministry of Magic, as well as non Pure Bloods.

She wasn’t even working for the Dark Lord and she was doing a good job campaigning for him.

“All right, Professor Snape said to report to the infirmary,” said Draco, directing the seven students to the fireplace. Three of them were tiny first years. At their obvious fright, Draco added, “Don’t worry; it’s just a precaution. I’m sure you’re fine.”

Though, one of them, Draco knew, wasn’t doing so good.

One by one they disappeared into the fire. Draco followed them, shouting, “Hospital Wing!” before spinning to his destination. He stepped out of the grate with ease, a skill he had learned as a child from his father.

“Seven students reporting to the Hospital Wing, Professor,” said Draco, as he stepped forward. Pomfrey immediately began helping students to beds, with reassuring words on her tongue. For a moment, Professor Snape didn’t respond. He was looking at a lone, pale form.

There was such a forlorn, desperate gaze in those dark eyes, something of which normally was never seen in them.

Then, Professor Snape glanced up, as if finally noticing Draco. Never in all the years he’d known the man, Draco hadn’t seen Professor Snape look this tired. He was drawn forward, coming to stand at the man’s side. He looked at the sleeping Harry Potter.

He looked terrible.

Draco wanted to say something, anything to make up for the trouble he’d cause the man. He would never admit it to anyone, but he had messed up. He shouldn’t have taken the bait to use the spell.

A hand clapped onto his shoulder. Startled, Draco looked up at Professor Snape. The man’s face was shadowed by the curtain of black hair.

“Thank you, Draco,” whispered Professor Snape.

Draco frowned, puzzled.

“You better get moving,” said Professor Snape, his voice stronger now. “There are other students who are suffering.”

Draco nodded. He looked back down at Potter. He tore his gaze away from the pale boy, taking long strides towards the fireplace. Gritting his teeth and preparing for the confrontation ahead, he grabbed a handful of Floo powder, tossed it into the grate, and bellowed out the password. He disappeared in a whirl of green flames.

Elegantly, Draco stepped out of the fire, getting a full view of the Gryffindor common room for the very first time. It was very… red. Shocker there. For Merlin’s sake, no wonder the Gryffindors were so hot headed. Didn’t they know that too much of the color red in their living space would cause over stimulation? Someone needed to redesign this place.

“Malfoy! What do you think you’re doing here?”

Lovely. It just had to be Weasley, didn’t it?

“Evening, Weasley,” said Draco cordially. Was Weasley really bearing his teeth like a wild animal? My, how uncouth.

“How’d you get in here?”

“Through the Floo, obviously. I’m not here for a social call.”

Weasley opened his mouth, but Granger placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Ronald, stop it! Think about it for a minute; how else could’ve Malfoy gotten the password?”

“He—”

“From a teacher.”

“You should listen to Granger, Weasley,” said Draco, sneering slightly. But then, he quickly continued. “Professor Snape is issuing a castle wide emergency,” he said, getting straight to the point. He could still see in his mind Potter’s pale condition as he lay in the hospital bed. “He’s requesting all Prefects to unite together. There’s no time for your nonsense, Weasley. We have a problem. A big one.”

Weasley clamped his mouth shut, but he still glared for all he was worth. Granger’s eyes widened.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you know how many Gryffindors had detention with Umbridge?” asked Draco. “Every single student who has had detention with her is to report to the infirmary for a mandatory checkup. The toad used a Black Quill.”

Of course, the Muggleborn had no idea the implications of this. Hadn’t she had enough time spent in books to figure this one out? Maybe she hadn’t read every book in the library, then. Ah, but Weasley seemed to know about it.

“Harry,” whispered Weasley, turning so pale that his freckles stood out even more. “How’s Harry? He had a ton of detention with her. Where is he? Is he all right?”

Draco’s face contorted grimly. His jaw clenched. He shook his head. “It’s not good, Weasley. He’s the reason Professor Snape figured it out.”

Granger gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Tears formed in her eyes.

“Oh, Harry.”

“Yes, yes, if you have time to cry,” said Draco, dismissive impatience in his tone. “Then, you have time to gather other students who have used a Black Quill.”

“Right,” whispered Granger, nodding seriously. “Right. Right, of course. I’ll just get the other Prefects right away. I’ll gather all of the Gryffindors as well.”

“I’ll help,” said Weasley.

Granger nodded and ran off to the girl’s dormitory. Draco turned, readying himself to go to the Ravenclaw common room, when Weasley’s voice held him back.

“How is he really?” asked Weasley, his voice barely above a whisper. “How bad is he?”

Draco turned his head to the side, catching Weasley out of the corner of his eyes.

“Unconscious and pale,” said Draco. “If I were to gauge it, I’d say he’s very ill. He had Professor Snape worried and that’s saying something.”

There was silence between them.

With the look that Professor Snape had shown, Draco had to wonder if Potter was all that bad as a person.

“Professor Snape will take care of it, though,” whispered Draco. “He protects his own.”

And with that, Draco marched into the Floo, his destination to the next common room.