AN: Hey, this is my first fanfic so bear with me as I get into the habit of writing. This is an Eighth Year fic and contains Slash.

Disclaimer: JK Rowling obviously owns everything to do with HP, and I'm just a lowly student who wanted to write something.

Chapter One

'Bubble Bubble'

Harry sighed as he stared at the expanse of parchment before him, idly scribbling a note or two every few minutes, if for no reason but to seem interested in the lecture that Professor Slughorn was booming his way through at the front of the room. He allowed himself a glance around the room, noticing that the only other two students who seemed to be as disinterested in paying attention were Malfoy, sitting at a desk to his right and two rows in front, and Hermione who sat to his left.

This did not surprise him in the slightest; as the two top students in Potions, they both had clearly already studied the subject of today's lesson and were merely biding time until the practical portion of the lesson. Harry sighed again and looked back down at his parchment.

Hermione shifted slightly beside him and glanced furtively in his direction, then followed the direction of his eyes, frowning as she saw the barren parchment. Harry smiled ever-so-slightly, bemusedly wondering if she would ever believe in his renewed interest in his schoolwork that had blossomed following his return to Hogwarts.

She had been understandably shocked and more than a little doubtful when he had revealed his plan to study hard and make his last year of school count for something. Though she and Ron had shared skeptic glances, she had pledged her full support for Harry "finally taking his studies seriously", as she had put it. Harry was secretly glad that they had not asked what had caused this sudden inspiration, and grateful that they knew to refrain from doing so.

With this knowledge, it was clear she thought Harry was currently failing spectacularly in his scholastic determination. Though he couldn't blame her, as she could not know that he had studied the topic of Spell Enduing Potions a few days beforehand. How would she, what with being embroiled in her own independent study of the subject and warding off Ron's continued begin that she help him complete his Transfiguration problems the night before they were due.

Harry chuckled to himself slightly at the mental image of Ron on the ground of the Gryffindor common room, beseeching Hermione in his best grovelling pose. She had, of course relented, but not before allowing him to ramble on for five minutes, the corners of her mouth quirked upwards.

Harry's attention was suddenly piqued by the pale blond head that belonged to Malfoy, watching as it drooped slowly onto his right shoulder. He bit his lip and laughed inwardly, marvelling as he had many times in the past few months at how much the Slytherin boy had changed. It seemed the events of the war had served to dilute some of the boy's more grating habits and humanise him in some ways. The old Malfoy would have never let his guard down enough to fall asleep in the middle of class. No, the old Malfoy would have sat, stock-still and rigid, throwing an occasional barb towards Harry.

Nowadays, that animosity had seemed to fade away completely to something of a mutual agreement to stay out of each other's way. Harry was happy for this, mostly because he had become tired of the childish rivalry that neither had ever seemed to be able to put to bed. He had wanted to go into this 'new era' (as McGonagall had dubbed it at the start of year feast) with as little pettiness and anger from the past as was possible. He was surprised to hear that the other boy had returned to complete his studies, though in the spirit of letting go, had relented that the other boy had deserved it as much as the rest of them.

He still couldn't find it within him to like the blond at all though, he wasn't trading in miracles after all. Though he had found that endless amusement was wrought from seeing Malfoy in a more relaxed and altogether less sneering manner than he had been in previous years.

As if on cue, Slughorn's booming voice called an end to the lecture portion of the lesson and Malfoy's head jerked upright from its position on his shoulder and he blearily attempted to regain his composure as he began removing items from his bag. Harry snorted softly before copying his actions, waiting for Slughorn's instruction.

"Alright students, you will each choose a partner, with whom you will be attempting to make a Spell Enduing Potion. Once you are in your groups, I will assign each of you a different spell, the effects of which you will attempt to endue in your partner upon the completion of the potion."

He smiled slyly before continuing, "I will not be telling you the ingredient that will be needed for your specific spell, of course, which shall be good practice, I hope, for your N.E.W.T.s at the end of the year."

Everyone in the class seemed to understand the unsubtle hint clearly and glanced nervously at each other at the reminder of their final exams.

"Well, off you go then," said Slughorn and the class burst into a smatter of activity as everyone in the class scrambled to get the partner they wanted.

Harry moved slowly, unconcerned as he glanced at Ron in question. Ron grinned sheepishly in return, shrugging his shoulders in a 'what can you do' manner and gesturing to Hermione who was eagerly setting up her cauldron already. Harry smiled and rolled his eyes amusedly in response; as if Ron hadn't manoeuvred their partnership in advance by sitting as close to her as possible. Harry looked around the room for his other Gryffindor friends, finding that Seamus and Dean and Neville and Parvati had already partnered up. Finding no luck elsewhere, he turned his eyes to the only other person who hadn't found someone.

Malfoy's eyes were scanning the room as well, and as they met Harry's, he seemed to come to the same conclusion that Harry had. He turned haughtily towards the front of the room, staring resolutely at the chalkboard at the front of the room. Harry, resigned to his fate, took this for the invitation that it was and made his way over to Malfoy's desk, dumping his potions supplies unceremoniously on the desk. He began to pull out items as Malfoy switched between watching his movements and following Slughorn as he gave each pair their individual spell.

"We should start cutting up the mandrake root now, or we'll never leave class on time." Harry said absently, placing a jar of lacewing flies and the roots in question on the bench in front of him.

Malfoy jerked his head towards Harry, furrowing his brow as he watched Harry.

"Funny Potter, I had expected to be taking the lead, given your… less than admirable skills in the subject." Malfoy's voice was filled not with snide elitism but simple confusion at Harry's actions.

"I happen to like potions now, Malfoy, and I find that I'm much better at things when I want to do them… 'm still rubbish at Arithmancy though."

Malfoy seemed surprised. "You're taking Arithmancy?"

"You don't have to seem so surprised, you know. Besides, like I said, I'm terrible at it."

"And you're good at potions?" He replied skeptically.

"Well, to be honest, I haven't had many opportunities to practice the theory, but I've been enjoying studying that, so I figured…" He trailed off

"Hmm…" Malfoy still seemed doubtful, but the fact that he was now conversing with Harry apparently caught up with him and he snapped his mouth shut, staring forward again in aloof detachment.

Harry rolled his eyes at the display, but waited patiently for Slughorn to amble over to them, preparing the ingredients patiently.

Finally, Professor Slughorn reached their table, his mouth stretching into a wide smile.

"Ah, boys, last but not least." He looked towards Harry. "Good to see you've gotten a head start, m'boy, had quite a bit of trouble with Parkinson over there over her spell… though I bet anyone who'd gotten the Bat-Bogey Hex would react the same way." He added conspiratorially, with a wink.

Harry smiled politely and he heard Malfoy chuckle slightly beside him.

"Let's see, boys…" He consulted a small sheet of parchment in his hand, his finger trailing down a list of spells. " Ah, Silencio, relatively simple method but with a deceptively obvious final ingredient. You can begin the potion and work on solving the ingredient as you go."

Malfoy finally began to work on the potion as Slughorn left them pulling half of the ingredients towards him to prepare them.

Harry tapped his chin in thought. "Deceptively obvious… well, I'd say boomslang skin, as its used in both the muffling potion and the sleeping draught, which are both inhibitors. Or maybe that's too obvious, as I doubt the solution would be lifted directly from a potion with silencing effects. Although he did say deceptively obvious… whatever the hell that means. Doxy eggs? They're used in Veritaserum, which opens the mind… could it have the opposite effect in a different potion? I don't know. That'd be pretty deceitful, I guess and - what?"

Harry cut himself off at the look Malfoy was giving him. He flushed as he realised he had been rambling his thought process and was sure to be mocked for it. But Malfoy just stared at him inscrutably.

"What?" He repeated self-consciously.

"Nothing." He didn't expand on that, so Harry continued ruminating on the possibilities of their assignment, this time in his head.

He thought for a few moments as they worked on the potion before the continued stare of his partner could no longer be ignored.

"What?"

"Nothing." Malfoy at least had the decency to be embarrassed for staring this time and he turned his concentration back to his work.

"Doxy eggs," came the response to his earlier ramblings ,after a few minutes of silence. "Used both in Veritaserum and the muffling draught, two potions with opposite effects. Could be the deceptive part."

Glad that the blond was at leat being helpful, Harry nodded his agreement and set about preparing the ingredient of interest.

"Here… i'll stir clockwise while you add the eggs then you'll have to quickly add the lacewing flies." Malfoy took the proffered eggs and held them over the cauldron, waiting while Harry stirred anti-clockwise three times then switched to clockwise.

"Now." He instructed Malfoy, who followed his direction promptly. As soon as the eggs hit the surface of the thick liquid, it turned from a dull green colour to a deep midnight blue. As it changed colour, the concoction began to boil and bubble up the edges of the cauldron.

Malfoy made a small noise of alarm at the frothing liquid. "Don't worry," Harry barked, "just quickly add the lacewing flies!"

Malfoy hesitated a moment too long for Harry's liking. In a lightning fast movement, he stopped stirring the liquid, wrenched the flies from Malfoy's hands, dumped them in the potion and immediately returned to stirring the concoction.

This proved to be difficult, however, as the potion was now bubbling more than ever, changing to a furious red as it did so. Both boys backed up as the liquid began to hiss and spit molten droplets at them.

"What's happening!?" Malfoy shouted over the noise originating from the cauldron, attracting the attention of the rest of the students in the class.

"I don't know!" Harry shouted back, grasping wildly around him in panic, his hand gripping Malfoy's forearm. It had been awhile since a potion he was making had screwed up so royally. Malfoy distractedly tried to shake him off.

"Calm down boys, we'll have to cast a spell to contain the-" The rest of Slughorn's sentence was cut off as he walked towards them, arms raised. With a low boom and unnatural force, the unstable potion burst forth from the potion and inexplicably headed straight towards Harry and Malfoy.

Stricken with fear, both boys could do nothing as the burning liquid drenched them both. Any reaction to the pain was immediately cut off as both boys fell to the floor immediately, unconscious to the world.

Harry awoke with a groan, a sharp pain throbbing behind his eyes. Pain seemed to be the only sensation he was capable of feeling at that moment, as it shot through his nerves and pinched at his skin which was sore and tender.

With some difficulty, he recognised the white sheets of his bed and tall, arched ceiling of the hospital wing as he opened his eyes and he groaned at the familiarity of it all. Or, at least, he tried to - something seemed to be blocking his voice at the back of his throat.

He lurched himself into a seated position staring around at the dark infirmary. The lights were out, the soft light of dawn casting a blue glow on the beds. A soft rustling noise came from one of the beds to his left and he tried to peer through the darkness at the figure occupying it. Without his glasses, which didn't seem to be around him, he couldn't make out much more than a huddled mass.

"Hello?" He tried to whisper into the darkness, but his stomach flipped as he realised that once again, his words wouldn't come out of his mouth. With a growing sense of foreboding, Harry cleared his throat and again tried to yell out for someone, politeness be damned.

Again, some kind of wall in his throat forbade any sound from escaping and Harry screamed soundlessly in frustration and trepidation.

He gasped for breath as the gravity of his silence dawned on him. Any attempt to call out was barred by a non-existent wall in his throat. He couldn't speak. He couldn't make a sound.