Disclaimer: Once upon a time, Harry Potter took a bite out of a bright green apple while he was sitting with his friends in the Great Hall… And Draco Malfoy lost his mind! He jumped over three tables and then attacked Harry's mouth in a hungry kiss, right there in the middle of breakfast.

Hogwarts was never quite the same after that morning.

Written by: KillerInADress.

Special thanks to: YoursTruly.

Chapter Ten: Impervius; Revelio; Horribllis.

-Last time,-

Harry looked up and tried to listen to what was being said—really, he did. But his borrowed dark eyes began to droop again, and before he knew it, Zabini's cheek was resting against the cool desk, and sleep was pulling him into its dark clutches.

-And now...-

"Potter… Potter? … r!"

Blearily, Harry opened his eyes. His neck felt stiff, his back was most definitely sore, and whoever was calling out his name while shaking his shoulder roughly was just making it all the worse!

Then Harry remember who—and where—he was, and he bolted up right on the stool, left side of his borrowed cheek burning from where the warm skin had been ripped from its desperate cling the solid wood of the desk for so long.

"Shit—what happened?" Harry asked at once, sleepy dark eyes scanning the room to see it empty apart from himself and Theodore Nott.

"You fell asleep halfway through Healer Penniforth's lesson." Theo informed him, frowning. "It's lucky for you that he got called away back to Saint Mungo's last minute, or else you might have gotten detention, along with losing Slytherin who knows how many points—Morgana's black grimoire, Potter. I've been trying to wake you for the last seven minutes; I thought you might've died."

"I fell asleep?" Harry repeated weakly. His headache didn't hurt quite as much anymore, but napping in class had left him feeling tremendously disoriented.

Theo nodded in confirmation, reaching over to the other side of his desk to pull apart two pieces of long parchment. "He assigned us an essay before he left, and I was asked to make sure you received yours. "

Harry took the paper gingerly. He couldn't remember anything. What had the teacher talked about? He felt sick once more, but he couldn't be sure if it was due to his disorientation, or another stomach rebellion that meant he should be finding the nearest toilet.

Blinking rapidly, Harry settled his gaze upon his unfamiliar desk top, eyes landing on the open bottle of ink with a quill sticking out of it. Suddenly, he remembered his gallant effort at note taking and feeling a spark of hopefulness, he lunged for the paper atop the desk, only to fall back with a groan. He'd written down all of two numbers before he'd apparently given into slumber.

Beside him, Theo had just finished putting his own notes into his book bag, and was now giving Zabini's body a quizzical look. Harry sent the other teens' bag a longing look, thinking of all those wonderful, hand-written notes that would probably be more detailed than anything his might've taken down, as Nott probably understood most of what was said in this class, having been taking it for longer than just today.

All of a sudden, Harry got an idea. "Err, Nott? Would you mind if I copied down your notes? I promised to take notes for Zabini in all of his classes, and I…well…" He trailed off, waving a hand vaguely, as if to explain away his sleeping in class without actually saying anything.

Nott shot him a strange look and Harry had the sudden urge to hit himself. Why would Nott want to help him? Or even Zabini, to that extent? The two certainly weren't as friendly as Harry had first believed.

"Never mind. Forget I even—"

"Potter," Nott cut him off him, blue eyes filled with assessment. Assessment of what, Harry hadn't the faintest idea. "As much as I would enjoy seeing Zabini receive a failing mark—and I wouldn't normally defend sleeping in class—but you look damn well like you needed it, and I do feel as if it would be wrong to a fellow Slytherin to leave him hanging… even if it is Zabini. Come on, then. You can copy my notes while I do some research in the library."

The Gryffindor tried not to smile when Nott's scolding sounded so similar to something Hermione would have said, and he found it to be rather easy to suppress when he was equally attempting to not let out a jaw-breaking yawn. With a nod, Harry collected Zabini's things. "Thank you." He expressed earnestly.

"Oh, this isn't exactly a benevolent charity, Potter. You will owe me some kind of reimbursement." Theo elucidate bluntly. Standing to leave, he added, "Just try not to make a habit of it, Scar Head.", with a haughty smirk and an almost flawless imitation of Draco Malfoy's bored drawl.

This time, Harry did smile.

As they made their slow trek down towards the forth floor, Harry found his disorientation starting to wear off, and the ever present fatigue starting to settle back in. It was infuriating how it kept returning. Why did he feel so bloody tired?

In an effort to distract himself, Harry turned his thoughts away from weariness and back to his companion. "What is Zabini's problem with you anyway?" He wondered aloud.

Theo, caught off guard by the sudden question, took a moment to consider answering before he shook his head. "I'm not sure." He lied.

"So you mean he doesn't like you and you've never been curious as to why?" Harry asked in surprise. If someone had disliked him so much, he'd have wanted to know why. At least Malfoy was honest about why he was being such a git.

"It wasn't all that important, really." Theo replied, reaching out to pull open the library door.

Harry decided to let the words pass for now as they found themselves a table near the section on 'Flying'.

Nott pulled free his notes and passed them to Harry, who thanked him. He then disappeared into the section of books, picking out a few that suited his needs and returned to read them, while Harry took out his own ink, parchment, and quill, and started on coping down Theo's neat handwriting.

It was about half an hour later, when Harry's hand had started to really cramp up and his eyes started to droop that Harry set his completed notes aside and turned his attention to the silent Slytherin. "Would you like me to ask him for you?" Harry asked, continuing the conversation they had abandoned earlier. It just bugged him so much and he couldn't believe that someone wouldn't want to know why someone else didn't like them.

Theo frowned. "Ask who what?"

"Ask Zabini why he has a beef with you." Harry explained.

If anything, Theo's frown deepened. "No, that won't be necessary." He said.

"But aren't you even curious?" Harry pressed with burrowed eyebrows.

"Like I said, it really doesn't matter."

"But why not?"

"Why would it?"

"Think about it! I mean, if you knew why he was upset, and then maybe you could work it out…"

Theo sighed heavily and set down his book. "I'm afraid it wouldn't matter what I did; he'd still hate me."

"But why?" Harry growled in frustration.

"Because what he 'thinks' I've done, is unforgivable in his books." Theo snapped.

Harry blinked in surprise. "I thought you said you didn't know—but what does he think you've done?"

Theo sighed again, silently weighing his options. He could tell the Gryffindor, and risk things getting out that nobody wants. Or he could not tell him and possibly miss out on the opportunity to see if maybe, just maybe, Potter held the same feelings as Draco.

In the end, he decided to take the risk. If it did get out, he'd know who to blame, and more than that, Draco could stop pretending that it wasn't true and maybe move on in his life.

Harry drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed the issue. I was just so—"

"Blaise is angry because he believes I've screwed over a good friend for my own entertainment." Theo answered, cutting off Potter's apology.

"Oh," Harry said, surprised to have actually gotten a response. "Have you tried explaining the issue?"

"I have." Theo confirmed. "The problem is, Zabini doesn't believe me, and I can't really blame him."

Harry nodded slowly. "I see…if you don't mind me asking, what did actually happen?"

Knott gave Blaise's body a stern look. "Can you keep a secret, Potter?"

Harry hesitated. What was he getting himself into? But in the end, he offered the brunette a slow nod.

"Back in fifth year, Draco and I used to…we were together."

Harry blinked. "Together?" He repeated blankly.

"As in, we were a couple. Dating, shagging; whatever you want to call it."

"Oh," Harry's borrowed eyes were wide with shock. In the back of his head, he heard his Uncle Vernon voice talking about, "unnatural homo freaks!", and had to shake his head to clear it. It wasn't that he particularly minded homosexuality. Not like his relatives, anyway. It was just that Harry had never really thought about it before. The only time he'd ever spared a thought for it, was when his uncle was grumbling about men touching in public.

And really, Harry thought with a sigh, if his uncle had been wrong about magic, he was probably wrong about that, too. Everyone deserved happiness. Even someone like Draco Malfoy. "So, what happened? Was Blaise—er—did he—he wasn't…jealous, right? Or…you know…" Harry trailed off with a grimace. He couldn't even say the word 'gay'. What hope was there for him to overcome his uncle's prejudice if he couldn't even say the damn word!

The brunette chuckled softly. "No. He is straight all right. Shame, that." Theo mused with a smile. He shook his head. "Draco and I were together for a while, but I broke it off when I realized he fancied Y—Erm—someone else." He said, cursing his almost slip up.

Harry, though, didn't notice. He was giving Theo a look of compassion. "That sucks, I'm sorry." He said with a sincere pat of condolence on the tall boys' shoulder. Theo felt like laughing. "What then? Zabini couldn't have been angry if you explained that Malfoy wasn't interested in you any longer."

Nott was forced to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. He never imagined he'd one day have this conversation with Harry Potter of all people. Many nights he'd spent thinking about hexing the boy, just for taking Draco from him, but in the end, he'd known that Draco had been Potter's since before they'd started dating…possibly even since they were eleven. Yet, here Potter was, trying to console him without having the first clue that Draco Malfoy is absolutely crazy for him.

The irony was not lost on the tall Slytherin.

"I did try to explain my reasons for breaking it off, but Draco had been angry, and Zabini, ever the loyal friend, had taken his side and refused to see it my way. He believed that I should have stayed with Draco and helped him forget his crush on the other boy, but I just didn't feel right about stringing things along. It was only going to hurt more in the long run."

Harry nodded, the edges of his temporary mouth pointing downward. "That's not fair of Zabini. No one deserves to be tossed aside like that. I'm sorry, Nott. I can try to talk to him? Explain things and maybe get him to let go of this grudge? I mean, it was back in fifth year, and I'm sure both you and Malfoy have moved on by now, right?"

Nott agreed, feeling strangely hopeful. Not only that Zabini might stop hexing his showers cold in the morning, but also that Potter might be gayer than he'd given the man credit for. Still, it was worrisome that Potter was still calling Draco by his last name, even after three days of being close to the man. He must see the puppy-dog looks Draco is always sending him. He must! It's impossible not to see how much Draco fancy's him.

If nothing else, and Potter simply doesn't return Draco's affections, Theo can now be assured that Potter would let him down easy, and maybe having Potter officially decline him would help Draco to finally get over the Boy-Who-Lived.

Not that Theo truly believed Draco would ever give up on him, sadly.

"What about you, Potter? Are you seeing anyone special?"

"No. I haven't dated anyone since Ginny, and after the war we just…something had changed there, you know?"

Theo nodded, not really understanding at all. "Ah, so you aren't gay then, either? Shame that, too." Theo teased.

Harry blushed and murmured out a, "no, I'm straight."

Theo smirked. Was Potter blushing? Well isn't that interesting. "Of course you are. But have you ever been with a man? I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss it, Potter. It's quite something. And should you ever decide to give it a try, I know just the guy for you." He winked. "Are you finished with the notes?"

Harry, now a deep red that was only deepened by his temporary dark skin, blinked in surprise at the sudden topic change and nodded carefully, trying and failing to properly hide his flaming cheeks.

Theo collected all his things and turned back to the other boy to bid his farewells, frowning a little when he noted the dullness of the dark eyes and the droopiness of the large shoulders, despite the lively colorful cheeks and neck that proved there really was life underneath the worn-out looking man.

"Well, I should get going to my final class. I enjoyed our conversation more than I thought I would, Potter. Thank you for that. But you might want to go back to the dorms and try to get some sleep before dinner. Or perhaps a trip to Madam Pomfrey would be even better, you look pretty knackered, and from the greenish tint to your skin, you may be coming down with something." He advised.

Harry ran a hand over his face. He'd really hoped he didn't look as bad a he felt. He really had. "Yeah, thanks. I haven't been feeling too hot, but I think a little sleep is all I need right now."

Theo nodded. "Alright then, try to get some rest. I'll catch you later, Harry." And he left.

It took Harry a few moments before he realized the Slytherin had called him by his first name. It was odd, but Harry really was much too tired to worry on it now. Instead, he packed up his writing utensils and left the library. He knew he should probably find Zabini and explain Nott's side of things before he forgot, but as his feet started to drag along the stone floor, Harry decided he could just do it later. He really needed to get some sleep and it was only the knowledge that he had no more classes left today that kept him moving as he descended staircase after staircase.

It was on the second floor that Harry found himself distracted from his thoughts of sleep once again that day when he came across a classroom down one of the old hallways that had been closed off for the year, and which Harry only took as a short cut when he was sure he wouldn't be seen.

The grunts and muttered curses and spells coming from inside the classroom sounded like someone was dueling inside. Pulling his wand free, Harry cautiously approached the door to the room, which was left open just wide enough that Harry could see past the crack into the left corner of the room.

He saw a flash of gold, a muttered curse, and then another burst of light, this one a pale green.

For one crazy moment, Harry hoped that he'd find Zabini inside the room, practicing his spell work and willing to listen to Harry so that he wouldn't have to worry about finding the Slytherin later. Instead, when he pushed the door open a bit wider, he was met with the large and intimidating figure of Gregory Goyle, who was indeed, just practicing his spell work.

At least he'd gotten that right, Harry thought. He was relieved that no one was actually being dueled in a forgotten hallway that was, until further notice, off limits.

He had just turned to go when he heard Goyle attempt to cast a spell they'd just recently learned in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Harry knew instantly that he'd cast it wrong. His thoughts were confirmed a second later when the man shouted out a hushed, "fuck!", and then quickly cast a reparo. He must have broken something, Harry thought mildly.

The short-term Slytherin was clenching his hands, though. He should just go. He should get to the common rooms. He should head for the Slytherin dorms and take his nap. He should leave it alone as it was none of his business, and the wizard currently casting the defense spell had spent much of their childhood bullying Harry and his friends.

He should.

But as he listened to the large boy once more cast the spell wrong, Harry flinched at the sound of braking glass and he just couldn't help but turn around and open the door fully, allowing him access.

He just couldn't help it! In that moment, Gregory Goyle had reminded Harry so much of Neville when they'd first started the DA, and Harry figured if he just helped Goyle correct his stance, wand movement, and wording; then he could go back to the Slytherin dorms without feeling guilty for leaving the poor man to break things from now until he figured it out.

Or he was caught in a hallway that was off limits. Whichever came first.

Goyle jumped in surprise when Harry entered the room. "Oi, Zabini, what are you doing here?" Goyle asked at once. He didn't sound defensive or angry, merely curious.

Harry tried for a friendly enough smile. "I was just passing by when I heard you trying to cast that detector shield. I think you've got the wording and movement wrong…if I may?" Harry held up his wand, indicating that he'd show Goyle the proper way to cast it, and Goyle frowned.

"Oh," He said, looking putout. "Sure. Go ahead."

Harry was puzzled by his reaction, but still, he held out his wand and waved it three times, counter-clockwise, before flicking it twice. "You need to flick it, but lightly, as if you're casting a Hot-Air charm, instead of a Protego. Got it? Watch." Harry cast the spell with no trouble, watching as the spell searched for the dark curse or spell, before finding nothing and vanishing into thin air. Harry smiled. "Now, the spell is Impervius Revelio Horribllis in stead of Revelio Horribllis Imperve. Do you see?"

Goyle shrugged, still gazing open mouthed at the spot Harry's spell had dissipated.

"Why don't you try it," Harry suggested.

Goyle gulped, but nonetheless, raised his wand and tried his best to mimic Harry's movements. "Revelio Horribllis Impervius!" He shouted gruffly.

Harry ducked quickly to avoid the miscast shield from attaching itself to him. It hit the back wall and grew a bright orange shield that covered the length of the wall. It stayed for a moment, and then it popped with hot magical waves of pressure shooting out around the room.

Harry hurriedly cast a Protego to cover them both until the magic settled into the air. He dropped the shield and Goyle looked at the wall where a burn mark had been left from the place the spell first hit. Harry chuckled, sounding rich and soft with Zabini's deep tone. "Well, at least you remembered to make it a shield this time." He said goodheartedly, being somewhat reminded of an occasion which Neville had accidently turned his Reducto spell into a charm that turned everything rainbow colors for a week.

Looking back at the larger boy, though, Harry's smile dropped. Goyle looked, if Harry dare say, disheartened.

Harry had just opened his mouth to apologize for his teasing remark when Goyle yelled out, "I will never get the hang of this stupid spell!" And tossed his wand onto an old school desk with a roar of aggravation.

Harry flinched slightly, having been on the receiving end of that temper many times before in the past. Still, he couldn't help a feeling of sympathy for the boy. Harry's never had problems with Defensive spells, but he's met his own share of short comings on certain aspects of school work, and he knew how tiring it can get to feel as if you aren't making any progress at all.

Cautiously, Harry took a seat on an old stool and leveled the most encouraging smile he could drag up for the other wizard. "You'll get the hang of it," He said with calm certainty. "I know it can be hard at first, but you'll get it. Everyone does in the end. What you really need to work on is the wording. You keep placing the shield at the end instead of the beginning. Why?"

Goyle shot him a befuddled look. "I'm doing what?" He asked dimly.

Harry frowned. "The shield… Impervius, or, in English, to become Impervious to; is what makes up the blocking agent in this spell. For example, when you cast Protego Totalum, you have two agents involved. Protego is your shield, and Totalum is what you are shielding—in this case, it's an area, or dwelling. Are you with me so far?"

Goyle bobbed his head, his focus entirely on Harry. "I think so." He said with a vague smile.

Harry returned the smile, feeling excited that he seemed to be getting somewhere with the other student. "Good. So you cast the shield first, so that you have something to attach when you tell it where to attach it too, understand?"

"Yeah!" Goyle said enthusiastically. "Like with Protego Horribllis, you are casting a shield, and then what you are using it on, like dark magic."

Harry's smile widened. "Exactly! So, when you're casting Impervius Revelio Horriblli, you have three causes-to-effect. First is your blocking, or shield—Impervius— that will then protect as you use your revealing charm – Revelio – which will be there to show you your third and final trigger, Horribllis –dark magic—that is close to you."

Goyle was looking overwhelmed again, so Harry quickly attempted to simplify things. "Basically," He said, standing up and raising his wand, "You want to cast a shield to protect you from any hidden curses that you uncover with your revealing spell. In some cases, when you reveal a dark curse, you won't have time to put up a shield before it activates, so if you already have one ready to activate should you actually find one, it will save you from whatever those spells are meant to do. Impervius Revelio Horriblli!" Harry cast, smiling when, once again, his spell took to the room, searching for a threat before deciding that there was none and slowly dissipating.

"Do you understand now?" Harry asked, turning back to the other man.

He hoped Goyle did, because those two casts had taken more out of him than they should have, and he took the stool once more, feeling a bit unsteady on his feet.

Goyle was looking at Harry in awe, and it made Harry a bit uncomfortable. "You should become a teacher, Zabini." He told Harry in earnest. "You're bloody brilliant!"

Harry felt surprisingly flattered to hear that, but he tried to push the feeling away and smiled lightly instead, feeling slightly woozy. "Cast the spell first, and then we can talk about my teaching skills." He said honestly.

Goyle looked a bit uncertainly at his wand, but Harry felt like there was an uncharacteristic determination in his dark eyes. "Err," He started after a moment. "I've never been very good with—uh—that Latin rubbish. Which spell comes first?"

Harry very nearly slammed his head into a dusty school desk. "Shield, Reveal, Dark Magic. Impervius, Revelio, Horriblli."

Goyle nodded and raised his wand. "Impervius Revelio Horriblli!" He reiterated, doing the wand motions well enough to pass for the right ones.

The golden red light shot from the end of Goyle's wand and hovered about the room for a moment, before it dispersed into the air around them. Goyle was beside himself with glee and Harry felt a small elation at the other boys' win, even in his tired state.

"I did it!" Goyle shouted happily. "I did it, Zabini! I did it!"

Harry laughed softly. "You did it, Goyle." He had to agree with a grin. He stood up a bit unsteadily, and was just about to take his leave when Goyle stopped.

"Erm…" The bulky boy looked uncomfortably around before he lifted pleading eyes back on Harry. "Would you help me with this essay? I don't understand a bloody thing about Patronus charms and you seem to know so much about this stuff…" He trailed off.

Harry, a sick feeling of acceptance coming over him, decided to at least try to post-pone this in the hopes that he might actually catch a break. "Can we do it later? I'm really feeling knackered now and I'd—"

"But you can't!" Goyle cried in protest. "It's due tomorrow and I've really nothing written. Please, Zabini?"

Harry sighed. It was only an essay. It wouldn't take that long, right? He walked over, dumped his bag onto an old desk, and gestured for Goyle to get his homework out. Goyle dragged another dusty stool over to join Harry, his spirits high. "Thanks, Zabini. I owe you one." He said brightly, and pulled free a roll of parchment.

He wasn't lying; his essay had the title written, and nothing else. Harry withheld a scowl. It was going to take a lot longer than he thought, but at least they wouldn't be casting anymore spells.

Or so he'd hoped. But as it turns out, Goyle hadn't even been able to so much as cast the mist of a Patronus charm, and Harry soon found himself, repeatedly casting his own stag Patronus while he helped Goyle at least reach the misty stage of his own.

After that, Goyle managed to talk him into helping him out with a Meteolojinx Recanto incantation, and before Harry knew it, he was falling to his knees in exhaustion while Goyle cast a Tempus. "Merlin's saggy left buttock, dinner's starting! Com'on, Zabini, we don't want to miss dinner." He urged, helping Harry to Zabini's feet with one hand.

Harry would very much like to miss dinner as he was having more than enough trouble even standing. "I'm not hungry," Harry tried desperately, but Goyle wouldn't hear it.

"You must be starving. All that casting has left me starving." He said, and continued to drag Harry along to the Great Hall, not even noticing that Zabini's legs seemed to have given out on him, and he was now being half carried.

The smell wafting through the Great Hall doors made Harry's stomach twist violently, and he would have pushed Goyle away and left for the dorms if he had the strength. But all he could do was protest weakly and be forced into a seat next to Goyle, who ignored his objections, and piled his plate high with every food in sight, just as he was his own.

Authors Notes:

I've finally unpacked!

Well…

Kinda.

But that's a conversation for another time. What I really wanted to tell you all is that I am here, and as you can see, I am writing again! Woot! ^-^

As always, your reviews are most welcome! And I hope to see you next chapter. Thanks for reading. ^^ -KIAD.

P.S: I want to apologize for poor Harry's sleepy-sick condition. I know some of you are confused, but I promise, all will be explained soon, and yes, this is necessary. ^^