Title: The Agape Potion
Author: Susannah Wilde
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 5k words
Warnings: The non-regulated use of Veritaserum happens because I forgot, sorry! reasons. Also, it's not been Britpicked.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the 2014 HP Concrit Fest and I do agree with the helpful concrit, which includes writing a different ending. I told myself that when writing for this fest, I would focus on three things that I wanted to improve on: humor, dialogue, and sex. The result is a G rated fic, so sex is out, but that's a good thing, because no one wants to read awful, mechanical sex. But, here, enjoy a trope!fic instead. Thanks to the mods and to my beta N, and because I did fiddle with this afterwards, all mistakes are my own.
Summary: The Agape Potion promises to help find a person's soul mate, and while Harry knows whom he wishes it could be, there's no way it could be true. Or so he thinks.

The Agape Potion

"If you keep this up, Harry, you'll probably have more N.E.W.T.s than Hermione this year," Ron says one morning at breakfast as he watches Harry finish writing a Potions essay. "I mean, they're not until the end of term and you're revising already. What gives?"

"Part of it is needing to catch up on what I missed last year, since, you know, we were busy trying to kill Voldemort. And even if Kingsley has offered me a position with the Aurors, I don't want to accept that. I want to earn my way in." Harry catches Hermione beaming at him when he pauses to take a bite of his toast. "Besides, since Slughorn has paired me up with Malfoy in Potions, I need to know what I'm actually doing. Malfoy's planning on becoming a Potions Master and he'll call me out if I make a simple mistake."

Ron spits out his pumpkin juice because he's laughing too hard. "Yeah, like the world needs another Snape."

"Don't judge, Ron. At least he has his future planned out. Can you say the same?" Hermione says, glancing at him from behind the pages of her Arithmancy textbook.

"Oh, because wanting to be a Potions Master is so much better than joining the Auror programme and helping people. I bet he would try to poison people just for kicks."

Harry's quill tears a hole through the parchment and he frowns at Ron for even suggesting that. "He wouldn't do that. The war has changed him."

Ron snorts. "Yeah, if I didn't know any better, I'd say he's only pretending to be your friend just so that he can avoid serving time at Azkaban."

Before Harry can comment and say that they are friends, dozens of owls fly in with the morning post and Harry's day immediately goes sour.

"Hermione, what's the date?" Harry asks in a panic, hoping, wishing, and pleading that the brightly wrapped pink and red packages that litter the artificial sky are something else entirely.

"It's the 14th of February, why? Oh-" Hermione gives him a look of pity as one is dropped right in front of him.

Ron stares in amazement as the package begins to shake violently, a stream of rose-scented red hearts slipping from the edges. "How many do you think you'll get?"

Harry stands up from the table, cramming everything inside his satchel as he scans the air. More owls are heading his way, each carrying larger parcels.

"It's not funny, Ron. I hate your brothers for that stunt they pulled last Christmas. You tell me how you'd like to kiss every person in sight just to escape some mistletoe. I don't even want to know what they've planned for Valentine's Day. I'll see you later."

"Harry, wait!" He stops and Hermione hands him his Invisibility Cloak. "Do try to enjoy your day and remember that there's a dance tonight. I know Ginny still doesn't have a date." She gives him a small smile as he throws the Cloak over himself.

"Thanks, Hermione, but I think I'll pass on the dance. If you see anything you like, keep it. Incendio everything else," he calls, pushing past other students that are entering the Great Hall.

Harry hides in the loos between classes so that he doesn't have people stopping him on the stairs, asking him on dates. He has lunch in the kitchens, with just the house-elves for company, whose delicious meal is a much better gratitude than the adoration people have given him ever since the war ended.

The last class of the day is Potions and Harry arrives just as Professor Slughorn has collected the essays and finished giving out instructions. Harry gives him a sheepish grin as he places his essay on top of the pile, but Slughorn doesn't give him detention, not like Snape would have done.

"What did I miss?" Harry asks, setting his satchel on the table and sliding down into his chair. Malfoy, to his credit, doesn't give him grief about his lateness, a sign of their tentative friendship. Instead, he hands Harry his notes and smirks at him.

"Rough day?"

"Ha. What gave you that impression?"

Malfoy only shakes his head and Harry takes the opportunity to copy Malfoy's notes. It's too quiet in the room, Harry decides a few seconds later, looking up to see if maybe Slughorn had dismissed the class.

Instead, everyone is looking at something above Harry's head and he dreads to even look up. A bright pink, heart-shaped envelope with shooting sparks hoovers above Harry's head and no one has the decency to Inciendo the stupid thing. To his horror, Harry sees that it doesn't even wait for him to open it before delivering the message.

"Harry Potter! Will you go with me tonight to the dance? I—" Ginny's voice is cut off in a flash of fire and Malfoy lowers his wand.

Harry feels his cheeks heat up and as he looks around the room trying to see if Ginny Weasley's face is hiding amongst them. He thanks his lucky stars that this is a N.E.W.T.s level class composed of returning Seventh Years. Hermione's face looks pleased and he immediately suspects she has a hand in this. Two Hufflepuffs stare dreamily at him, not even looking away when Harry scowls at them. Across the room, someone is openly laughing, but manages to bark out, "Now we know who wears the trousers in that relationship!"

Harry turns back around to face Malfoy. Out of all the people in the room, his reaction is what matters the most.

Malfoy isn't quite looking at Harry, letting the fringe fall over his forehead and eyes. Even so, Harry can see that there is a light blush on his pale cheeks. His fingers are fidgeting with his wand, twirling it absentmindedly.

It takes Harry a moment to realise that Draco Malfoy is embarrassed for him. Why, Harry does not know, but he needs to clear things up before Malfoy gets the wrong idea.

"She is not my girlfriend, full stop." Harry sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "It's just, we never really got back together after the war, nor did I suggest that we end it entirely. So I think she thinks we're still together, even though I don't want to be. Does that make sense?"

"Not really, Potter. I find that you are never articulate when it comes to your emotions." Finally, Malfoy looks up, eyebrow arched at Harry's surprised expression.

"Thanks. I'll take that as a non-insult, I guess," he tells Draco, who gives Harry a curt nod before going to collect the potions ingredients they will need to use.

Harry quickly finishes copying the notes, surprised to find out the potion they are going to brew is actually a snippet of a nursery rhyme Muggles read to their children.

What are little boys made of?
Boys are made of snips and snails and puppy dog tails.
What are little girls made of?
Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice.

"What does the Agape Potion do?" Harry asks when Malfoy returns, setting the ingredients down in the order they need to be added. The puppy dog tails wag and Malfoy slaps them down before they can fall to the floor.

"Given the holiday, Slughorn thought it would be appropriate to brew this." Malfoy rolls his eyes to show what he truly thinks about it. "However, when the Agape Potion is taken, the drinker will describe one hundred qualities he or she looks for when finding their soul mate."

Harry grimaces. "A love potion? Aren't those illegal?"

"It's technically not a love potion, like Amortentia, because we are using Veritaserum as the base for the potion. It inspires truth and love to find a soul mate, not obsession and lust. Besides, we are going to dilute it."

First the morning post and now this potion. Harry has had enough with this holiday. "This is ridiculous," Harry says, "I mean it's not enough being followed around by lovesick people all day, but if this piece of information gets out, they'll never leave me alone. Just shove the knife in deeper will you?"

Malfoy just stares at him. "If you don't like what you hear, you can always try to Obliviate everyone."

Harry sets his copper cauldron in front of him and uses his wand to light a fire underneath. "I wish, but Professor McGonagall would never let me get away with it. Never mind, just tell me what to do."

Malfoy begins slicing the snails into thin pieces. "This is a traditional potion, used in the old days by idiots at parties in hopes of getting a glimpse of their soul mate. Since it's uncertain what gender that person will be, we add all the ingredients. Snips is a lock of your hair, and I've got the snails and puppy dog tails right here," he says, using the knife to point to the left corner of the table. "As for the second part, add your favourite sweet and spice, while everything nice would be your fondest memory, added last to ensure happiness."

"What, no blood? I'm surprised that this type of potion doesn't require at least a drop," Harry says, earning himself a strange look from Malfoy.

"Possibly because the professors don't want anyone to accidently bond with each other. The blood is used in the bonding ceremony."

They work in silence for a while, and despite the nature of the potion that they are brewing, Harry's mind wanders, as it tends to do whenever he's stuck in Potions class. He doesn't need this potion to tell him whom he wishes his soul mate would be. Between sneaking glances at Malfoy and making sure nothing's been blown up, Harry allows himself to daydream of being more than just friends with him.

But it's useless. Malfoy is impossibly straight with a rumoured arranged marriage just waiting for him to finish Hogwarts.

Harry's potion makes a hissing sound and bubbles over when he adds cinnamon, loud enough to alarm Malfoy to ask, "What did you add?"

"I love cinnamon tea," he explains, stirring the potion anticlockwise. He glances around the room to see that many students are almost done, some already pulling out the memory they will use for the last step. It is nice to see that the war hadn't taken away all the happiness.

"What's your favourite memory?"

"Christmas at the Manor," Malfoy says, ripping open a Chocolate Frog.

"Enjoyed opening your huge pile of presents?" Harry can only imagine waking up and getting everything your heart desired.

"No, because of the snow and how it turned the Manor into a wonderland." This is not at all what Harry had expected Malfoy to say, not when he is a pureblood wizard and probably had every opportunity to do many things Harry could only ever dream of.

When ten minutes remain to finish the potion, Harry focuses on retrieving the very first time he played Quidditch, letting the memory trail off his wand and into the potion. He sits straight up in his chair, stirring every few seconds while making sure his fire is at the correct temperature. Every now and then, Harry's hair falls in his face and he pushes it back absentmindedly.

Malfoy catches Harry looking at him. "You forgot to add your hair, Potter." Malfoy grabs a lock of black hair behind Harry's ear and severs it with his wand and adds it to Harry's cauldron. The moment is very brief but Harry can't mistake the spark he feels. Eyes wide and perhaps showing too much emotion on his face, Harry quickly turns away and looks inside the cauldron where the potion bubbles and turns a dark green, the colour of moss. A sneak to his right shows that Malfoy's looks like blood.

"Ha. You're a vampire," Harry, says, laughing.

Malfoy peers in his cauldron. "Hmmm. I do have a distant cousin on my mother's side who's a vampire. Calliope, very pretty, and a respectable match if she is my soul mate."

Harry's laughter stops and he chokes out, "You're not serious, are you?"

Malfoy looks at him straight in the eyes. "No, Malfoys don't do incest."

"Are you sure? I mean you all look the same."

"It's the perfect genetics."

A Tempus charm goes off before Harry can reply. "Time is up. Each student should pour a sample into a vial to test the results," Slughorn says from where he sits behind his desk. "As you know, this potion does not give the illusion of love, but rather attempts to help a person locate their soul mate. It describes one hundred qualities, both good and bad, in a way that makes certain you know who that person is when you find them. Now, since we don't have time to hear all of them, I'm diluting it so that only one quality is revealed when you test it."

There is an increase of chatter, but right next to him, Malfoy yawns. Perhaps he already knows who it is, Harry thinks, frowning, and might even be engaged to that person already.

"As you come up here, I'll add the Veritaserum and then give you the antidote after noting the success or failure of the potion."

Harry's heart beats faster the more Slughorn keeps talking. He didn't think that they would test this out in front of the class, but judging from the excited whispers around the room, no one has any qualms about it. He hopes that his potion fails.

"Any volunteers?" As the students go up to Slughorn, he puts three drops of Veritaserum in the vials before nodding at them to drink it. The students say random statements that don't make sense to Harry, but mean something significant to others, as there are a few bright smiles.

"She's an excellent dancer."

"He's enjoys History of Magic."

"He has one blue eye and one brown eye."

"She is a Chaser for Hufflepuff."

"She is skilled at dueling."

"He has six fingers on his left hand."

"She can wiggle her ears."

When Hermione goes up to the front, Malfoy turns to Harry. "Two words. Red Hair."

Startled, Harry can only respond with the truth. "Probably. They are getting married in October."

Malfoy smirks and looks back at Hermione. "Already? I thought she was the smart one."

"No use in waiting. They've been dancing around each other for years, probably since they started Hogwarts."

Hermione takes a deep breath as the Veritaserum mixes in with her purple potion. The mixture slowly turns gold and Slughorn leaps up, excited.

"Well done, Miss Granger! You've already found your soul mate!" She beams at Slughorn while people start whispering. Still, Hermione swallows the potion and her eyes are bright and she shivers a bit before speaking in a clear voice.

"He's a Keeper for Gryffindor." Relief floods her face and she breaks out in a bright smile before swallowing the antidote and returning to her seat.

"Oh, yes, a real charmer," Malfoy mutters under his breath. Harry laughs, trying to keep it quiet, but doesn't quite succeed as Slughorn looks his way, smiling as he calls his name.

"Mr Potter, thanks for volunteering." Harry sobers up and as he leaves the table, he hears Malfoy wish him good luck.

Please, for the love of all things, not Ginny Weasley, or Lavender Brown. Come to think of it, there is an entire list of girls whose names Harry would give anything to not hear nor think about. He does know who he wants to say, but squashes the feeling down as Slughorn adds Veritaserum to his potion.

Which immediately turns gold.

I've found my soul mate! is Harry's first thought followed by Do I even want to know?

He gives Slughorn a pleading look, but the man is just as curious to see what Harry will say, so there is no getting out of this. When he faces the class, everyone's attention is on him and they wait with bated breath as he drinks the potion. He closes his eyes as if that would lessen the blow he's about to receive.

The effects are immediate, and Harry feels like he's weightless, with no thoughts, a clear and empty mind. He opens his mouth to answer a silent question he's been asked.

"He has the Dark Mark."

Immediately, Harry knows he's said the wrong thing, judging only from the looks he sees in the room when he opens his eyes. Many are shocked, mouths gaping open, some whispering fast, shaking their heads and looking away if he even tries to look at them properly. Hermione is the only one to really look at him, but for once she is speechless, surprise written on her face. He hears the scrape of the chair as Slughorn gets up behind him.

"No, that's not… I didn't mean…" Harry stammers, but all the faces in front of him are full of disbelief, and rightly so, because he has just swallowed Veritaserum. He can't lie.

Harry has no intention of looking at Malfoy. He can't bear the look of disgust that is sure to be on the other boy's face. Instead, he does the only thing he's done for the past few years when confronted with his feelings.

He runs, trainers pounding on the stone floor to match the beating of his frantic heart. When he is finally out of the room, he rushes down the stairs and through the corridors, knowing that he has to get out of Hogwarts, because anywhere inside is too close to Malfoy, too close for comfort.

It's cold outside and there's a fresh layer of snow on the ground that makes everything seem like a wonderland. Harry casts a warming charm and starts walking towards the greenhouses, the place he always goes to when he needs to escape being a hero. No one will think to look for him out there because it's winter, making it the perfect place to hide and to be alone with one's thoughts.

Harry sits outside the greenhouse underneath a weeping willow, the branches hitting him as he leans against the tree trunk. He grasps a thin branch in his hand and a dusting of snow falls on him, making him shiver. Snow, what an usual thing for Malfoy to be happy about, but then again, Harry doesn't know a lot about him.

Harry knows his crush on Draco Malfoy is hopeless ever since he discovered it two years ago. Cho and Ginny had never done it for him, because it felt like something was missing that he couldn't quite put a finger on it. It didn't help that at night he dreamt of Draco Malfoy. Harry had first chalked it up to following the other boy obsessively in Sixth Year, trying to figure out what he was up to. What Harry couldn't explain was the content of the dreams, the kissing and sex that still made Harry blushed when he thought about it. Then the war had begun, giving him an excuse to focus on something other than his fledgling love life.

When Malfoy had arrived at Grimmauld Place with Snape, revealed as a spy for the Order, a small glimmer of hope grew in Harry. That was his chance to get close to Malfoy and try to figure out why he had those dreams. It certainly helped that Malfoy had been willing to do anything to defeat the Dark Lord, even work peacefully with Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

That plan had failed because soon after that summer, Harry had left Malfoy behind to go destroy Horcruxes.

A friendship with Malfoy was all that Harry hoped for now. At the Start-of-Term Feast, in front of all the students and Headmistress McGonagall, Harry walked over to the Slytherin table in front of Draco Malfoy and extended his hand in another chance of friendship. The long minutes it took Malfoy to shake Harry's hand were hard, but in the end Malfoy smiled. Harry sat down and ate with the Slytherins, despite everyone thinking he had gone mad.

When paired up with Malfoy in Potions, Harry always talked to him, managing to keep his crush hidden, but welcoming the friendship. He was so successful that even Hermione had not noticed.

Now, everyone will know about the possibility of them being soul mates, and while Harry doesn't care if anyone knows he's gay, as it will hopefully make the girls leave him alone, it is Malfoy he is worried about. Although they no longer had that rivalry, there is no sure way to know how Malfoy will react. However, Harry has a pretty good idea, if the arranged marriage rumours are true.

Harry sighs, resting his head on his knees thinking about his response to the potion. What will his friends think? To be soul mates with a Death Eater is almost a step backwards from everything he had worked hard for the past year. Even if the words are true, he rather it be Malfoy because all of the other Death Eaters he knows are awaiting the Kiss or have died in battle.

At this moment, Harry needs a plan, a way to salvage whatever he has with Malfoy and to convince him that he hadn't meant what he said in class. Speaking to him privately is out of the question, because they would more than likely yell at each other and come to blows. Instead, Harry will write Malfoy a letter, delivered by one of the school owls so that it will not be recognised.

Harry pushes the hair out of his eyes and tucks it behind his ear and that makes him remember how he felt when Malfoy had reached up to cut off a snip.

That's it! Harry thinks, sitting straight up. I almost forgot the hair and I added it after the memory so the potion was not brewed correctly. So he couldn't be held responsible for anything that came out of his mouth.

Feeling better, Harry leans against the tree in relief. All he has to do is explain to everyone what had actually happened in class. Tomorrow at the earliest, because there is no way he will interrupt a school dance to make an announcement. Although a twinge of disappointment goes through him at the prospect of Malfoy not being his soul mate, Harry knows it is the right thing to do.

For now, he plans to stay here until the morning. Harry closes his eyes, wishing he had brought his satchel with his books so at least he'd have something to do, even if it is homework. It's so quiet that it doesn't take long for him to doze off, the warming charms keeping the cold air at bay.

"Harry." Warm fingers shake his arm, timid at first and then a bit harder when he doesn't respond. "You're going to freeze to death."

"Go way, please." Harry mumbles, not willing to wake up so soon.

"I'm not angry." At these words, Harry opens his eyes to see Malfoy peering down at him. Harry scrambles backwards on his hands, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. Malfoy, however, grabs onto his arm, and once he's certain Harry won't run away, sits down on the ground beside him.

"Malfoy, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. I figured out what went wrong. And don't worry, I'll speak with everyone in Potions and get them not to mention anything," Harry babbles, pulling his arm back again,

Malfoy smiles. "Do you always talk so much even when no one's asking any questions?" Even though it's not a direct question, Harry can feel his lips twitch because he doesn't want to lie. Malfoy sees Harry struggling and reaches into his robes and hands him a vial.

"Here, we need to talk, but you need to drink the antidote first and then look at me." Harry peers at it, wondering why Malfoy would give it to him when he has the power to ask anything and get a truthful answer.

"Oh, go on and drink it. It's not like I'd actually want to kill you anymore."

Giving Malfoy a wary glance, Harry takes the stopper out and swallows the antidote. The icy liquid makes him shudder and when he opens his eyes, he sees that Malfoy is using his wand to reapply the warming charm. "Why are you here?"

Malfoy holds out his other hand and Harry catches a glimpse of a vial as he shakes it. "You ran away before I could have some answers. I think I deserve that."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry says in a tired voice. "You want me to drink it again? Fine, I'll do it, but just to prove that it was a mistake." Harry reaches out, his fingers touching the vial before Malfoy pulls it away.

"The potion turned gold, Harry."

"The potion was wrong. I didn't brew it correctly. In fact, it could be anyone with the Dark Mark, your father included." Harry says that just to inflict pain on Malfoy, but it doesn't work, because all Malfoy does is roll his eyes.

"Fine, be stubborn." Instead, Malfoy opens and downs the blood-red potion, not breaking eye contact the entire time.

"No! What are you doing?" Harry says, but it is too late. Malfoy shudders and grey eyes met green before Malfoy begins speaking.

"He defeated Voldemort."

Harry lets out a startled cry. "No, that can't be right. You're going to get married. You're not even gay!" And Harry's bitterness is increased when he realises that Malfoy is laughing.

"Look at me." A hand grabs Harry's chin and he feels warm breath on the shell of his ear. "All these accusations and none of them are true. How did you defeat Voldemort?"

Even as Harry's mind is trying to process what Malfoy has just said, he answers the easy question. "Dumb luck and a prophecy."

"Yet here you are, still alive. If you've survived the impossible, then why can't this be true?"

"Because it's too easy, too good of a joke to pass up. We hated each other."

"I don't, not since you sliced my chest open and made me realise that if I stayed with the Dark Lord, I would be on the losing side of the war."

Harry winces. "You should hate me for almost killing you."

Malfoy lets out a long sigh that sends a feeling of remorse through Harry. "I thought you would mention that, so listen closely, because I will not repeat myself." His voice grows quiet and Harry has to lean in closer to hear him speak. "I have a list of regrets, too. I almost killed Dumbledore, cursed Bell, and nearly succeeded in killing Weasley, whom is family to you, not to mention letting Death Eaters in at Hogwarts to endanger innocent students. You know that and still wanted to be my friend this year. The point is, we're not perfect, and I see that."

The more Malfoy keeps talking, the more Harry realises he makes absolute sense. It would be impractical to continue thinking that they hadn't changed, couldn't become more than friends. Yet something is holding Harry back; he needs to hear that Malfoy wants this.

After a moment of silence, Malfoy says, "So you're fine with this," waving a hand between the two of them.

"You don't seem too fazed by the realisation."

"I had a lot of time to go over my regrets last year. I think deep down I might have known, but I didn't want to acknowledge it. Besides, there are worst things than being Harry Potter's soul mate."

"Soul mates," Harry says and gives a low whistle. "What do we do now?"

"I'm not going to kiss you," Malfoy deadpans and Harry's eyes go wide.

"What?"

"That's what everyone would expect, right?" Harry stares at him because the idea hasn't even occurred to him, despite months of thinking how he'd like to be closer to Malfoy, not to mention the dreams he had before then. "Like you said, just because we are soul mates doesn't mean that we are automatically driven with lust and shag like rabbits. And if we are going to do this properly, we need to get to know each other. We do have seven years of issues to work through." Yeah, Harry agrees, it is going to take a long time.

Malfoy stretches out, his joints cracking from being in the same position for so long. "So, what do you want to tell everyone?"

"I'm not going to lie. You're not anyone's dirty secret, Draco."

At these words, Malfoy snorts, but Harry still manages to catch a smile spread across his face. "I've been called much worse, Scarhead."

"Ferret," Harry replies, but there's no malice in his voice. "I think we'll have to tell our friends because there's no point in hiding this. Besides, I found my soul mate. We are pretty lucky, don't you think?"