A/N: So, this was a bit of a random idea. I hope you like it!
The Polyjuice PotionDouble potions with the Slytherins, first thing on a Monday morning. Is there anything worse? Harry wondered, groaning as he slid into his seat next to Ron.
Glancing at Snape, Harry's stomach lurched unpleasantly. Was Snape smiling?
That couldn't be good.
'Today you will be working in assigned pairs, brewing a very complex potion. You will write 2 rolls of parchment on the making of, effects of, and observations of this potion.'
A collective groan went through the class – it seemed even the Slytherins were not looking forward to the essay.
'Malfoy, Potter. Parkinson, Granger. Crabbe, Weasley. Goyle, Thomas…'
Ah. So that's why he was smiling. It seems that Snape's favouritism of the Slytherins didn't stretch far enough to avoid pairing them up with the Gryffindors. After all, the Gryffindors would doubtlessly suffer more.
"Alright, Potter," Malfoy said, sliding into the chair next to Harry, "As long as you do exactly as I say, you have nothing to worry about."
"Hmph," Harry said, earning a raised eyebrow from Malfoy.
They got to work preparing the cauldron and cutting ingredients. As he missed most of the preparation of the Polyjuice in their second year, Harry felt it safest to just follow Malfoy's instructions. Looking over the ingredients, however –
"Where's the Boomslang skin?" Harry asked, looking over at Malfoy.
"Potter, are you daft? There's no Boomslang skin in Polyjuice potion."
"Yes there is."
"Potter," Malfoy said, patience obviously wearing thin, "look at the ingredients list on the board."
Harry looked: it wasn't listed. Confused, he turned to Ron, who also looked confused, then to Hermione, who looked suspicious.
"But," he said, "I'm sure-"
"Potter. Is there a problem?" Snape had appeared out of nowhere in front of there desk.
Suddenly realising what this could be about, Harry began to reply in the negative, but Malfoy was too quick.
"Potter was insisting that Boomslang skin is part of the ingredients but I assured him it is not."
"Boomslang skin, Potter?" Snape asked, scowling at Harry, who now had a very good idea what was happening.
"Uh…"
"Tell me, why would you think that Boomslang skin is an ingredient of the Polyjuice potion?"
"Uhm…"
"Detention, Potter! Tonight after dinner. Report to my office." Snape hissed, then turned to the rest of the class.
"Attention! Please note that there has been a change made to the instructions on the board. You will approach my desk to retrieve your Boomslang skin."
Harry scowled. Malfoy raised an eyebrow and went to collect the new ingredient.
They worked in a relatively companionable silence, until Malfoy's curiosity got the better of him.
"So… what was the detention for?"
Harry had been expecting this question and as such had come up with a plausible lie, which was based on the truth. Of course, if he could get away with not answering at all, he would.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" He said, grinning.
"Yes. So, tell me. Please."
Harry, surprised that Malfoy had bothered to be polite, decided to go along with it.
"In our second year, me, Ron and Hermione stole Boomslang skin from Snape to brew a Polyjuice potion."
"You did what?" Malfoy said, sounding scandalised.
"You heard me."
"Yeah. I did. So… who did you transform into?"
"Some Hufflepuffs. We wanted to get inside their common room to see if they are really as quiet and tolerant as they seem. Pretty lame, huh?"
"I'm surprised you didn't transform into Crabbe and Goyle and try to find out my deepest secrets," Malfoy said, clearly accepting the lie. Surprised, and a little disappointed, he admitted silently. Was he that insignificant to the Boy Who Lived?
"Huh," Harry said, blushing and looking away. Fortunately, Malfoy didn't notice, because they had finished the potion.
"Trade a hair with your partner and transform into each other," Snape instructed, once it was clear that everyone had finished. "Any mishaps will be taken care of… eventually," he sneered.
Harry, who for some reason had not been expecting this, gulped nervously. He was going to transform into Draco Malfoy? Oh, god. This was going to be really bad.
Malfoy plucked out a single hair and handed it to Harry, waiting patiently. Harry gave Malfoy one of his and they added them into their respective goblets.
They both watched as the potions sizzled; Harry's potion turned a bright, clear silver, while Malfoy's turned gold. The two boys exchanged bemused glances, then-
"Bottoms up," Malfoy muttered, clinking his goblet to Harry's and chugging it down. Harry did the same.
"Not bad, Potter," Malfoy commented, clearly talking about the taste.
Harry, who had expected the potion to look and taste foul and… well, evil, was entirely surprised to note that the beautiful looking potion tasted like mint.
"You too," he responded, carefully placing the goblet down as he knew what to expect next.
The bubbling, melting sensation was just as unpleasant as the last time, but at least his shape and size didn't change much. Malfoy was a little thinner than Harry, but he was obviously strong; Harry could feel the muscles. And… oh. He could feel his-Malfoy's… thing.
Malfoy, if the expression on his face was anything to judge by, had just had a similar realisation. They looked at each other and then away, both flushing.
Harry took the time to watch the rest of the class, but he was much too distracted by the feel of Malfoy's body. It was similar to his, but still different.
"Work out much?" Malfoy commented, flexing Harry's arm muscles.
"Stop it," Harry said, clearly embarrassed. "You're making me look like a tosser."
"One: Who cares, everyone knows it's me anyway. Two: You are a tosser, Potter."
Harry groaned and rolled his eyes.
"Argh! Never do that in my body again! You make me look so plebian!"
Harry grinned.
For the rest of the hour, Harry and Malfoy annoyed and entertained each other by acting like themselves and therefore looking, in the other person's body, completely out of character.
When everyone had changed back, Snape dismissed the class, reminding them as they left the room chattering not to forget the essay.
…
"Harry," Ron muttered at lunch, "Hermione'n me are going to transform into Parkinson and Crabbe again tonight and sneak into the Slytherin common room again."
"Are you serious? Hermione's up for it? And why? What is there to find out?"
"Not kidding, mate, it was her idea. She says she's noticed him looking at you funny, and she wants to know why."
"Wow. That's so unlike her."
"I know, mate. Anyway, is there anything you want me to ask?"
"I can think of lots of things, but, as Crabbe, you'll probably have to stay pretty quiet."
"Yeah," Ron agreed, "too bad you have detention, I'm sure you could have come as Goyle or something."
"Yeah," Harry said, suddenly feeling down.
…
After dinner, Hermione and Ron somehow managed to knock out Parkinson and Crabbe, steal their hairs and uniforms, and lock them away.
Ron had led them to the Slytherin common room, amazed and impressed with his memory. Having reached the blank stretch of wall (Ron thought it was the right spot), they had no choice but to wait for a Slytherin to come and speak the password. They were standing there ten minutes later when Malfoy came strutting along.
"Pansy? Crabbe? Don't tell me you both forgot the password," Draco sighed.
"Ambition," he muttered, stepping over the threshold and not bothering to look back to see if they followed.
"So," he said, glancing around at the almost empty common room, "What did you think of Potions today?"
"It was brilliant!" Hermione gushed, before she thought to stop herself.
Draco raised an eyebrow and she continued. "I mean, Granger got so annoyed at me, you know? I kept flirting with Weasley."
"Who was actually Crabbe," Draco said, sounding bored.
"Oh.. Yeah." Hermione said, feigning dissapointment.
"You?" Ron grunted, in a very realistic impression of Crabbe.
Draco looked mildly surprised that he had spoken, but answered anyway.
"Potter was looking extremely hot today," he said, his eyes sparkling and a smile tugging on his lips. "I mean, I know I've said it before, but… now I've actually been inside his body, and I could feel his sexiness… You know?"
"You're gay?" Ron said, disbelieving. Draco fortunately mistook the tone for general stupidity.
"Yes, Crabbe, how many times do I have to tell you?"
"And you like Ha-Potter," Ron continued.
"Yes, Crabbe. I've liked him since the start of sixth year. I swear I need to get some friends who are actually interested in my life," he grumbled.
At that point, Hermione noticed Crabbe's hair turning red and she jumped up, giving Ron a significant look.
"We've got to find Goyle!" She shouted, pelting out of the room, closely followed by Ron.
"But he's right-" Draco was saying as the wall slammed shut behind Ron.
"Harry!" Ron shouted as soon as they were through the portrait hole into Gryffindor common room, having returned the uniforms to Parkinson and Crabbe on their way.
"Harry, you back yet?" Hermione called, looking around.
"I guess Snape will keep him late," Ron said, sitting down by the fire.
"So… what do we tell him?" Hermione asked, cautiously.
"Are you kidding? Everything! It's hilarious, Malfoy has a crush on Harry! Oh, 'Mione, this is priceless!"
"Ron," Hermione began, in her lecturing tone, immediately calming him, "Harry's gay too."
"I know that," Ron huffed. "So what?"
"Do you remember him telling us he had a crush on someone and he wouldn't tell us who it was?"
"Yeah. So?"
"So, I know it's unlikely, but what if it's Malfoy? You know, he is quite attractive…"
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no." Ron said. "It's not. Harry wouldn't."
"Okay, so we tell him."
"Uh… maybe it's not a good idea, you know… just-"
"But you thought it was so funny before," Hermione said.
"Thought what was funny?" came a voice behind them; Harry.
"Nothing." Ron said. "How was detention?"
Harry shrugged. "Nothing to report. How was your adventure?"
"Oh, you know…" Ron began, looking uneasily at Hermione.
"Harry," she said briskly, "We found out that Malfoy has a crush on you."
Harry's smile immediately dropped from his face and he lost a bit of colour. "What?"
"Malfoy's got a crush on you," Ron confirmed, grimacing.
"That's not funny, guys, don't joke about that sort of thing."
"Harry. It's not a joke," Hermione said, patting his arm.
"Wait… you're serious? He actually admitted it out loud? And you're sure he didn't know who you were?"
"Yeah," Ron said.
"This is brilliant!" Harry shouted gleefully, jumping up from the couch.
Ron, who had been looking worried, suddenly grinned. "I know, mate. Imagine all the jokes you can play on him now!"
"Er… yeah," Harry said, not sounding very enthusiastic.
Hermione frowned at Harry. "Do you like Malfoy, Harry?"
"Er.. well… you know, since his father has been in prison he really hasn't been that bad… and you know he was almost nice to me in potions today," Harry said, glancing at Ron, who looked like Christmas had been cancelled.
"You know," Harry continued, "Seamus and Dean were telling me about this underground betting ring in the school, about who's going to get together. Apparently Malfoy and I have been a favourite for a couple of years now…" Harry trailed off, suddenly worried about the greenish tinge that had appeared on Ron's face.
Hermione had noticed too, and decided it was time to end the conversation. "Harry," she said, "why don't you go ask him to work with you on the essay for Snape?"
"Er…" Harry said, still looking at Ron.
"Look, mate," Ron said, "it's not my job to tell you who you can or can't date. I'll manage, as long as you're happy. Just… don't tell me any details. And for Merlin's sake don't let me see him in the dormitory!"
"Right. Thanks, Ron. "
Harry stood up to leave.
"Thanks, Hermione. I'll see you guys later."
"Yeah, see you later Harry." Hermione replied, turning her full attention to Ron.
As Harry reached the portrait, he could hear Ron muttering.
"And if I never see him naked, it will be too soon…"
…
Harry had reached the Slytherin common room, and now had no idea what to do.
Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), Pansy Parkinson and Vincent Crabbe chose just that moment to appear (looking rather confounded, Harry thought) and greeted him less than friendlily.
"What do you want, Potter?" Parkinson sneered.
"I… just wanted a word with Malfoy. About the Potions assignment." Harry said, sounding more confident than he felt.
Pansy looked suspicious, but responded in a way that Harry could only see as positive.
"I'll tell him you're here. He'll come out if he feels like it," she sniffed, flouncing past him to where Crabbe had opened the wall.
A full ten minutes later, Harry was no longer nervous. He was just annoyed.
At the moment he chose to turn around and head back to the Gryffindor common room, he heard a disdainful sigh behind him.
"What do you want, Potter?"
Harry turned around. Draco Malfoy, looking entirely immaculate except for his hair which he had chosen that moment to run his hand through tiredly, was leaning against the opening.
"I… just wondered if you could – uh, I mean, if you wanted to work with me on the Potions essay." He said, feeling incredibly stupid.
"I don't need any help on that essay, you know, Potter." Malfoy said, cocking his head slightly and looking at Harry calculatingly.
"No, I know that. I just thought-"
"And you don't need my help either – you've done it before." Malfoy observed.
"Yes, but-"
"So, basically, you just came down here asking me to work with you, in a situation where neither of us would actually benefit academically from working together."
"Yeah, that's about it," Harry said, feeling stupider by the second.
"Sounds fun. Look, I need to buy some supplies in Hogsmeade this weekend. Do you want to come?"
"Uh… yeah." Harry said, more than a little surprised at the turn the conversation had taken.
"Great. So, I'll meet you at the library after dinner tomorrow night to start on the essay. And then we'll go to Hogsmeade on Saturday."
"Yeah. So, Malfoy, did you just… um… ask me on a date?"
"Potter, I thought that much was obvious," Malfoy said, grinning at Harry unguardedly.
"Oh. Well, that's good then. Um, goodnight Malfoy," Harry said, grinning back at Malfoy before turning to leave.
"Goodnight, Harry." Malfoy said softly.
The end.