"But what was he doing out there?" Hermione asked. "What would possess him to climb the beanstalk at night?"
"I don't know," Harry shook his head. He and Ron and Hermione were crossing the lawn between the greenhouses and the front entrance of the school, trying not to stare at the enormous green vine that still embraced Gryffindor Tower.
"Is there a treasure up there?" Ron asked.
Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. "Sort of. There's a goose that lays golden eggs up there."
"There is?" Ron's eyes swung skyward.
"Don't get any ideas," Harry said. "There's also a man-eating giant protecting it."
"Get off of me!" A shout came from the direction of the greenhouses.
As one they turned towards the source. Draco Malfoy was behind them, also walking up from Herbology class, and he appeared to be in a bit of difficulty. Two bluebirds were perched on his shoulders as a pair of doves flitted around his head. A soft, gray bunny hopped along at his feet, a score of adorable chipmunks darted around him as he walked, and a spotted fawn was nuzzling his right hand. As they stared a brilliant rainbow appeared in the sky above him and arched delicately across the tableau.
He looked up, his face radiant in the afternoon sun, his short blond hair lifting in the breeze as the happy woodland creatures celebrated around him. Harry was awestruck by the sight, by the way the light sparkled in Draco's eye, by the way the birds twittered musically, creating the sweetest melody that he had ever-
"Fuck off and stop staring!" Draco snapped. "Get these horrid things away from me!"
"Right," Harry lurched forward and waved his hands to shoo the animals away. Draco waited impatiently as the deer bounded down the hill towards the forest and the birds fluttered into the sky and the bunny and chipmunks scampered for the bushes. "There you go," Harry said, stepping back.
Just then his ankle rolled in a divot and his knee buckled. He flailed his arms wildly to catch his balance and Draco reflexively snatched his hand just as he was toppling over. Harry landed on one knee, his hand in Draco's, looking up at him with his face framed perfectly by the sun.
"Oh shit," Harry said. Not only had they touched, but he was now down on one knee in the classic marriage proposal pose.
"Potter, what are you doing?" Draco's cheeks blushed. "Get up, people are staring."
"Sorry, I tripped," Harry released his hand and scrambled to his feet. Jamming his fists into his pockets, he whirled around and ran to the castle, a very bewildered pair of friends at his heels.
"Harry, what happened?" Hermione called as he burst through the front door and made a beeline for home.
"I tripped!" he shouted, taking the stairs two at a time. He threw himself into the common room and flopped face down on a sofa.
Ron and Hermione were silent. Finally they sat in the upholstered chairs across the way and waited for him to raise his head.
"Was that the spell again?" Ron asked.
"I think so," Harry said miserably.
"So it brought Malfoy to you again?" Ron's brow furrowed.
"I think so," Harry dropped his face back onto the bolster pillow.
"Harry-" Hermione began.
"Don't say it."
"Harry, do you like Draco Malfoy?"
"No," Harry moaned. "He's awful."
"But," Hermione paused. "But do you like him?"
"How could I like him?" Harry raised his head and wailed.
"He's rather good looking these days," she shrugged, peeking guiltily at Ron. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize, it's true," Ron shrugged. "What? Can't I notice something like that?"
"But the spell. Thinking someone is attractive doesn't mean you can fall in love with them," Harry said.
"But maybe you could," Hermione said.
"Not bloody likely," Harry grumbled. "And even if I could, he would never go for it."
"Maybe he would," Hermione shrugged.
"Not bloody likely," Harry said again and laid his head back down.
He kept to himself for the rest of the day, only coming downstairs for supper and then going straight back up to his room. He couldn't stop watching the clock as midnight approached. Finally at a quarter of he descended the stairs and went out to the forbidden forest to serve his detention.
Filch was waiting for them, his permanent frown etched more deeply than usual. He scowled at Harry as he approached and thrust a shovel at him.
"Where's the other one?" he snarled.
"I don't know," Harry shuffled his feet. They stood in awkward silence as the unsettling sounds of the nighttime forest rustled beyond the edge of the grassy lawn.
"There he is," Filch somehow frowned even more deeply than before. Harry turned and his breath hitched.
The moonlight bathed Draco Malfoy in silver magnificence. His long stride was powerful and commanding and his posture confident. He marched over to them with a sneer of pure annoyance, a cloak tucked under his arm and nearly dragging on the ground.
"Detention for eighth-years? You must be joking," he eyed Filch with naked hostility.
"You've done detention together before, haven't you?" Filch glared back and forth between them. "Back when you were small."
"First year," Harry murmured, glancing up at his classmate. Draco was peering down his nose at him with a curious expression.
"Well get going," Filch shoved a bundle the size of a cord of firewood into Draco's arms. "Head straight in until you reach the pond. Bury this near the edge of the water. Don't bollocks it up."
"What is it?" Draco tried to unwrap the cotton shroud.
"Dead vampire bat," Filch smiled venomously. "Big one. Staked through the heart."
"Eurgh," Draco shoved the bundle at Harry. "You carry it, I'll take the shovel."
"Fine, but you're doing the digging," Harry hefted the large bat corpse up to his shoulder and set off with his wand extended. "Lumos," he called.
"Hang on," Draco struggled to pull the cloak around his shoulders and catch up.
"What do you need that for?" Harry asked, not slowing down.
"It's cold out here," Draco snapped. "Or hadn't you noticed?"
Actually he hadn't. He realized he was blushing, and had been since Draco's arrival. He was too warm, really. Which was terribly embarrassing.
"I borrowed this one from Blaise," Draco prattled on. "He doesn't know I borrowed it, of course."
"You don't have your own cloak?" Harry asked, mostly to keep the conversation going and hold his nervousness about the nighttime forest at bay.
"Of course I do, you knobhead," Draco said. "But this one is enchanted. It changes colors according to the situation."
Harry paused and turned around. He eyed the cloak dubiously. "What does blue mean?"
"I don't know," Draco looked down. "I guess I forgot to ask."
Harry looked up at Draco's face and tried to determine if he was joking. But no, he really looked confused about the color. He couldn't help it, he laughed. Draco's eyes snapped up in surprise and Harry braced himself for a scathing retort, something to punish him for the perceived mockery. Instead Draco chuckled softly.
"That's what I get for sneaking out with it," he said. Then he caught himself and scowled. "Keep walking, Potter. This isn't a date."
Harry's cheeks burned. What kind of comment was that? Did he know about the spell or was he just being pithy?
They reached the edge of the pond without incident and argued briefly about digging until Draco finally relented and gouged a small trench in the moist soil at the edge of the water. Harry rolled his eyes and shoved the bundle of dead bat into his arms and seized the shovel. He widened and deepened the hole until it could accommodate the corpse. Draco dropped it in with a shudder and scraped the soil on top until it was completely buried.
"That wasn't so bad," Harry scooped the shovel up from the mud and wished he could trust the pond enough to wash his hands.
"Scourgify," Draco pointed his wand at Harry's fingers and they were instantly, if not painlessly, clean.
"Yowch," Harry dropped the shovel and shook his fingers. "You can't Scourgify skin."
Draco gave him a withering look. "Really, Potter? You took a Cruciatus if I remember correctly."
Harry rubbed his palms on his robes and retrieved the shovel again. "Maybe," he said.
"Unless the Dark Lord lied about it," Draco shrugged. "I suspect he lied about many of his conquests, pathetic bugger that he was."
Harry didn't say anything. He wanted to ask why Draco had followed Voldemort if he was so pathetic, but suspected he knew the answer wasn't a proud one. It wasn't like he'd had much choice in the matter.
"Something on your mind?" Draco reached back and pulled the hood of the cloak over his head.
"I don't know," Harry shuffled his feet.
"Why doesn't it surprise me that you don't know if something is on your mind?" Draco said. "What, confused that I bad-mouthed the Dark Lord?"
"A little."
"Are you really?" Draco's expression took a turn. His shoulders sagged and for a moment he looked plaintively into Harry's eyes. For reasons Harry wasn't able to articulate to himself, his rival needed him to understand, to know the difference between reality and bravado.
"No," Harry shook his head. "It's just that-"
"What?"
Harry's mouth went dry. Before his eyes the cloak was blooming red all across its surface until the whole thing from hood to hem was crimson. He shook his wand into his hand and whipped around, looking for danger.
"What is it?" Draco looked down. "When did that happen?"
"Wolf," Harry said.
"Wolf? Where?"
"Werewolf," Harry said through gritted teeth. "It has to be."
"Did you hear something?" Draco peeked over his shoulder at the tree line. "What did you hear?" He turned back and stared at Harry with wide eyes, his face framed by the cloak's intense red hue.
The crackle of twigs lit a spark in Harry's spine, exploding in a reflexive attack that shot out of the end of his wand with a thunderous crack. A yelp pierced the air and then its owner, a grotesque, ravenous werewolf, froze in mid-lunge and dropped like a stone mere paces from Draco Malfoy's back.
Draco spun around and gawked in horror at the beast. Slowly the cloak faded through purple and back to blue.
"Blue means safe," Harry said, completely at a loss for anything else to say.
"How did you know that was going to happen?" Draco gasped as the adrenaline of the near miss hit him.
"The cloak," Harry nodded at the garment.
"But how did-"
"Little Red Riding Hood," Harry said.
"What did you just call me?" Draco's eyes narrowed.
"Nothing," Harry muttered. "Let's get the hell out of here."
They trudged back through the forest and emerged with nothing worse than a few twigs in their hair and mud on their shoes to show for it. Draco dropped the shovel, muttering something about Filch that wasn't particularly flattering. Then they regarded each other in awkward silence for a moment.
"So," Draco scratched his nose. "Thanks for, you know."
"Saving your arse from a lifetime of full moons and flea dip?" Harry smirked.
"Or death. Whatever," Draco gazed off towards the castle in an effort to hide his own smirk.
"Malfoy, can I ask you something?" They set off slowly across the lawn towards the castle.
"I guess. Although I might not answer."
"What were you doing climbing that beanstalk in the middle of the night?" Harry jerked his thumb in the direction of the tower-hugging vine.
"I overheard a pair of Hufflepuffs talking about the legend of the beanstalk. They said there was a treasure up there."
"What do you need with more money?" Harry asked.
"I don't know," Draco tossed his forelock out of his eyes and thought for a moment. "It was really more about the challenge, I guess. Doing something on my own. For once."
"Oh," Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. That Draco Malfoy would yearn for the opportunity to do something without the assistance of his father was somewhat surprising.
"I wasn't trying to reach your window, if that's what you're thinking," Draco said.
"I wasn't thinking that," Harry looked up in surprise. "Why would I think that?"
"I don't know," Draco's cheeks flushed pink in the moonlight. Harry's cheeks flushed a mirrored pink, although he wasn't sure why. "Just know that it was a coincidence, right? It could have been any window." His cloak lightened, passing through deep aubergine and warming to a rich golden yellow. He looked down in surprise and his blush deepened furiously.
"What does yellow mean?" Harry asked.
"No idea," Draco muttered. He shucked the robe and balled it up under his arm, where it darkened to black again. "Piss off, Potter. I hope you get eaten on the way back to your room."
And with that, he ran on ahead to the castle, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.