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It was a kindness. A kindness that Zoro probably didn't want, and definitely didn't deserve. But for some reason, this had been Sanji's first reaction: to watch Zoro leave the side of the lake and head back to the castle; to ignore the hungry grumbling in his own stomach; to think about what he could do to make Zoro return to normal.
He'd entertained various ideas involving hexes, practical jokes, and sabotage, but they weren't nearly as appealing to him as they would have been if Zoro hadn't looked so disturbed earlier. For all that he hated Zoro, he wasn't cruel, and he wasn't going to make Zoro's day even worse just so that he could have peace of mind.
Peace of mind. His thoughts finally alighted upon a certain idea that combined his talent for potions with his need to see Zoro returned to normal. He had jumped up and hurried back to the castle as fast as he could, heading straight down into the potions dungeon, and once there, he'd lit a fire underneath a cauldron and headed off in search of ingredients.
While he'd gone through the motions of brewing the Draught of Peace, he had refused to think about what he was doing. Refused to think about the place inside of himself that had been shaken by the very idea of Zoro having any kind of emotions underneath that stoic façade.
Half an hour after he'd started, there was lavender-scented silver vapor coming off the surface of the draught. He'd held his breath as he ladled the potion into a vial, then corked it. And that vial went into his pocket, and after he'd finished cleaning up, he marched toward the steps up into the Entrance Hall. Only he'd paused and finally considered what he was doing, then scurried back to the Slytherin common room.
Now he sat warily eying the vial sitting at his bedside. It had been the sole object of his attention for nearly fifteen minutes, and he'd been debating between getting up and going to the Great Hall to slip it into Zoro's drink, or just tucking it into the never-ending supply of spare potions in the Hospital Wing for someone who'd actually appreciate it.
It was just that he'd gone to all the trouble, and for whom? Somebody he'd thought he hated. Somebody that he definitely didn't get along with, even at the best of times. He'd technically broken the rules, or at least entirely misused his privileges for that idiot, and it would seem like a waste if Sanji didn't give it to him.
Sick of thinking and re-thinking it, he picked the vial up off his bedside table and told himself it wasn't a big deal. It was just because he couldn't let anything go - that was just who Sanji was.
He wished that he could, though. Just forget about that blip in Zoro's stoic exterior. But he couldn't. He'd seen something else in Zoro, and now it was the only thing he could see.
There was a mantra that he repeated to himself as he ascended the stairs into the Entrance Hall: It's not because he deserves it. It's not because I care about him. It's definitely not because I want to be friends with him. And for the most part, he could believe himself.
There weren't very many people remaining in the Great Hall when he got there, and he was beginning to think that he was too late, that Zoro had already gone up to Gryffindor Tower, so he almost turned back. But then he spotted that distinct green hair, practically alone at the Gryffindor table. And best of all, he appeared to be asleep, head balanced in one propped-up palm. In prime position for Sanji to do this, in short.
Across the Hall he hurried, feeling the vial bump against his leg through his robes. But when he came to a stop behind Zoro, he had no idea what to do. Zoro couldn't drink or eat things in his sleep, and Sanji couldn't make him drink it... Except that he could.
For a moment, he poked and prodded at Zoro, then slapped one cheek, and finally, kneed him in the back. And Zoro just kept on snoring, so Sanji felt safe to go ahead and tilt his sleep-slackened face toward the ceiling.
Sanji sent up a wish that Zoro would remain asleep, pinched his nose until his mouth fell open in another snore, and dumped the contents of the bottle down his throat. He rubbed his fingers over Zoro's adam's apple until he swallowed, then dropped the emptied vial back into his pocket. Zoro grunted and smacked his lips, and Sanji froze in place, holding his breath as his insides fluttered into a panic. But then Zoro settled and let out another snore, head falling to the side to rest on his own shoulder, and Sanji tore out of the Hall as fast as he could, not stopping for anyone or anything.
It wasn't until he was back in his own bed that he finally let himself breathe, and a smile curled his lips. Because maybe he'd just been imagining it, but he was sure that in the split second between Zoro swallowing and himself running away, he'd seen the tension between his eyebrows ease just slightly. And Sanji felt that, despite dubious methods, he'd done the right thing.