The other Slytherins backed away from him as Hagrid walked their way. The half-giant looked Nott over, shaking his head. "Best get yer ta see Madame Pomfrey, I'm thinkin'," he announced, his voice tinged with concern. "Yer got yerself some sort a rash, I 'spect."
By then, the boy's face, neck, and hands were all spotted. As Harry watched, the spots grew larger and bulged out, then began to ooze thick yellowish fluid streaked with black. Theodore swayed on his feet for a moment, then fell over backwards into the grass.
"Yer all dismissed," Hagrid said, scooping the boy up into his arms and striding off.
"Wonder what's wrong with him?" Hermione tilted her head to one side as she thought about it.
"You don't suppose he could have had an allergic reaction to shaking Harry's hand?"
"Don't be silly," Hermione told Ron in a chiding tone. "It was quite odd, though."
"It was," Harry said, wondering about it.
Half the Slytherins were missing from dinner, and a rumour was going around that they weren't just depressed, they were actually sick. Two more students, seventh-years, were in the hospital wing with Theodore Nott, their symptoms the same as his. The others were apparently just feeling nauseous and having a lie-down, or so Harry heard.
"What do you think is going on?"
Hermione shrugged as she sprinkled a bit of pepper on her pumpkin soup. "Well, nobody seems to know quite what was wrong with those first Aurors who came in to investigate. Just that they got sick and had to be bundled straight off to St. Mungo's. Maybe they infected the Slytherins."
"They did spend more time with them than with anyone else," Ron said, nodding. "Yeah, that would work."
Harry stabbed at his fried chicken with his fork as he glanced at the empty chair up on the dais.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing."
Ron wasn't fooled. "You're homesick."
"Not exactly."
"Yeah, you are."
"No, it's not that." Harry shrugged. "I'm fine, but if Severus isn't here then I guess he's with Draco. And I'm wondering how Draco's holding up. I guess I'm a bit worried about him."
"Put me off my food, why don't you?"
"Ron, nothing could put you off your food," said Hermione, her voice crisp. "And as for Professor Snape, maybe he's brewing potions for Nott and the others."
"Pretty weird how Nott got sick right after shaking your hand," said Ron, chewing.
"He was sick before that if you took a good look at him."
"Oh, now you're taking good looks at Slytherins?"
"I'm trying to figure out how to fit into my new House."
Ron laughed. "Well, that's easy enough. Lie, cheat, and steal, not to mention kill--"
"Draco did not kill anyone!"
"I think he was speaking in general terms, Harry."
Harry didn't think so, but he wasn't going to argue about it. What he was going to do was his bit to help Draco. "I saw him take Veritaserum myself--"
"Snape-brewed though," Ron said with a glitter in his eyes.
"No, as a matter of fact, Ministry official. And I know it was real because he ended up saying things I know he doesn't want anyone to know. Personal things--"
"Like what?"
"Oh, be quiet, Ron," Hermione said, leaning closer. "And?"
Harry turned to look her straight in the eyes. It put his back to Ron, but he was a little irritated with Ron at the moment, so that was all right. "And they went over and over what happened, Hermione. They left no stone unturned, you know? And he didn't do it. Do you want to read the transcript? Severus would probably let me have a copy. But it would be nice if you'd just believe me."
Behind him, Ron laughed. "Well, you are wearing a snake on your robes these days, Harry--" When Harry rounded on him, though, the other boy put up his hands, widely splayed. "Joke, all right? Joke. You're awfully touchy."
"Do you believe me about the Veritaserum or not?"
Ron stared for a moment. "Well, I guess I don't really want to, that's the problem. I'd rather Draco Malfoy landed his snide Slytherin mouth, along with the rest of him, in Azkaban. But yeah, I believe you. So... all right."
When Harry turned back to face his plate, he saw Hermione nodding. "I believe you, too. And as for Malfoy... hmm. I can't forget what he said to me--"
"Oh, you just like to hear how clever you are."
Hermione glared at Ron, then continued. "But it's more than that. I was watching Malfoy all the time we were... uh, revising Defence down in the dungeons..."
Harry figured she meant when they were in Devon.
"...and, well look. I'd hate to be wrong about this, and when Ron and I popped down to see you and nobody answered, and then you came to the door looking, um, you know how you looked...."
Harry figured she meant his black eye.
"... and then we heard about the Owlery..."
"Hermione, get to the point!" Ron said, leaning over.
She grimaced. "I suppose I'd rather not, but here it is, then. Malfoy seemed like he was really trying to help you. He had good pointers and such when we were all practicing together. Don't get me wrong, Harry. I don't exactly think he's changed. But... well, he's not quite the same, either, is he?"
Ron started rolling his eyes. "If he's trying to help Harry with Defence, it's because he's hedging his bets in case his father gets his hands on him."
"I know," Harry admitted, shrugging. "I'm not going to tell you that he's perfect. But if you think about what you said, you'll see it means Draco is actually on our side, now."
Ron didn't reply to that. Neither did Hermione, but she looked like she was turning it over in her mind.
After dinner, Harry thought of going down to the dungeons to see Draco, but he wasn't supposed to go alone and he thought he'd really rather give Ron and Hermione some time to think things over. Too bad he didn't have his invisibility cloak so he could sneak down... Snape had insisted Harry leave it at home. In fact, he'd announced that he would keep it safe and sound, which meant, of course, that Snape had squirreled it away in his office, or perhaps his bedroom.
That development hadn't thrilled Harry, but neither had it come as any great surprise. Snape didn't approve of Harry having a thing like that. Besides, Snape had said he wanted Harry to understand that he had help now, with anything.
Oh well, Harry thought. Even if he had the cloak he couldn't really use it, not for this. He might be able to get safely down to the dungeons, but once he got inside his father would be pretty upset he'd come without an escort. Of course Snape might not even be home at the moment. If he had the Marauders' Map he'd know. But that was another thing he'd had to leave behind. Evidence, Snape had explained. He and the headmaster were still investigating it, trying to figure out how it had been tricked.
So that was that. At least he still had his Firebolt, though of course he'd rethought the whole idea of Seeker. In the rush of excitement, that first night back in Gryffindor, he'd more or less forgotten that his vision problem pretty much ruled out Quidditch. Competitive Quidditch, at least. It would still be fun to play a pick-up game now and again, but he'd feel awful if Gryffindor lost because he couldn't see to the left properly.
So... it was time to clear that matter up. No sense in letting his Housemates think he could play. "Ginny."
She looked up at him from across the common room, and smiled. Harry walked over to where she was. "How's the team doing? Good practices, all that?"
"Sure. But everybody's looking forward to having you back," she said, nibbling a bit at her lip.
Harry sat down next to her. "I'd love to play but... well, you've done almost the whole season, and you're brilliant, you know. I watched a couple of matches, and I think you mesh with the other players really well, and... well, I think I'd just as soon have you finish out the season. How's that sound?"