Dazai 's new curriculum was horrible.

In every single class since that fateful night, Dazai 's time spent practicing spells had been cut to practically nothing at all. During class, if he didn 't succeed within the first couple attempts, a professor was suddenly at his side forcing him to stop. McGonagall 's stern 'wand down, Mr. Dazai, ' still rung in his ears painfully. And,

sure,

Dazai's headache was more-or-less abated and his nausea was only a distant hum,

but still.

Annoyingly, Draco also seemed to be convinced that he needed to worry about Dazai's condition. Whatever Draco had seen the other night in the infirmary within Dazai 's shivering form, he was completely turned off of their normal Loyalty Club activities. For the last week, their club had done nothing but meet, chat, and do homework. It was...

...not unpleasant.