Title: Kiss.

Author: AspergianStoryteller.

Genre: Supernatural/General.

Summary: When a dementor tried to Kiss Harry Potter, it got more than it bargained for. And Harry did not walk away unaffected. Don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 10: Healthy?

Fred, George and Lee soon joined them, and by the end of the day, everyone was very much anticipating their first Defence class.

*Moody raised his wand, and Harry felt a thrill of foreboding.*

'Avada kedavra!'

Green light- something rushing- familiar tingle- the spider rolled over dead.

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'Twenty seven. Twenty eight. Twenty nine. Thirty. Pinch nose. Cover mouth and breathe. And breathe. Now listen.'

The Fourth Years bent their heads to listen for the sound of breathing.

Whoosh. There was a wind on Harry's face and he knew the C.P.R had been successful. Hermione and Ron's dummies were also breathing on their own next to his on the Hospital Wing bed.

'Everyone's dummies breathing again?' Madam Pomfrey called? 'Then deposit them- not throw them, in the box and collect bandages and blood clotting paste.'

So far their first Health class for the year had been quiet, for a class with Gryffindors and Slytherins together. Today they were recapping the proper unconscious position, C.P.R, stopping bleeding and making slings, the magic and non-magic way (because you never know what might happen so put your wand away and pay attention).

Harry placed his dummy into the storage box and went to get bandages from their boxes. Draco Malfoy was behind him in line and complaining.

'Again with this primitive practise. I don't see the point in learning the Muggle way of healing someone.'

'You'll see the point one day when someone breaks your wand, Malfoy,' Harry muttered. 'Sooner than you think if you keep acting like a prat.'

'As if anyone would be able to, Potter,' Draco shot back. He rummaged around for wound pads. 'I'm a fast spell caster.'

'If you say so. But don't complain when you underestimate someone and get your arse kicked.'

'Maybe you'd like to try.'

'As much as I'd enjoy that Malfoy, don't you remember how our last duel turned out?' Harry had his bandages and joined the queue for blood clotting paste.

Draco turned slightly pink. 'Moody can't be around to protect you all the time. Can't you fight without a teacher holding your hand?'

Harry smirked then frowned. 'I actually meant our last official duel, in second year at the club.'

Draco frowned then smirked. 'Ah yes. When you outed yourself as a Parslemouth. Not a wise move. Almost everyone thought you set that snake on a mudblood and were behind the attacks. Of course, I knew you were much too Gryffindork to attack students like that.'

Harry wasn't sure whether this was a compliment or an insult. Coming from Malfoy, it was probably the latter.

'Although, sometimes even I wonder,' Draco continued. 'How does a half-blood like you come to possess the gift of Parsletongue, Potter? I'm curious.'

'I wouldn't know, Malfoy. I only know my closest family tree.' Harry reached into the potions cupboard and withdrew a small pottle of pale green paste.

'I wonder if you have any other, qualities you keep to yourself?' Draco murmured next to him. 'I think I know where they came from. I noticed something most interesting in Defence. Tell me Potter, where do you get your bright green eye color from?'

Harry dropped his paste onto a bed, whirled around and punched Draco in the face. The blond boy staggered back then launched himself at Harry. They traded a few blows before Madam Pomfrey impedimented and separated them.

'Enough you two!'

'He started it!' Draco's voice had been slowed down along with him and came out slow and deep.

'But he said-'

'What? What did Mr. Malfoy say that was so offensive you had to resort to violence, Mr. Potter?'

'...Never mind. And don't you repeat it Malfoy!'

'Students, carry on with your task.' Madame Pomfrey made Harry and Draco sit on a bed while she got things out of the cupboards and cleared away something that had been broken. 'I don't care who started it now, you were both fighting, and in the Hospital Wing. You're to serve Detention here tonight at seven and twenty points from each of your houses. As for the remainder of this lesson, you'll be practising first aid on each other- under my supervision.'

Both boys grimaced.

'Mr. Potter can start by putting this bruise salve on that one starting to form on Mr. Malfoy's face, or else you can bet it'll be quite large later. Don't smirk Mr. Potter.'

Impediment wearing off slowly, Harry unscrewed the jar of white cream, dipped his fingers in rubbed it on the impressively large purple shiner beginning to show on Draco's cheek. When he was done, Draco did the same for Harry, and they took turns tending to bruises until Madam Pomfrey set them to fixing pretend bleeds and making slings. They worked in silence, some of it awkward, for most of it.

'Don't yank on my hair Malfoy.'

'Then hold it out of the way. Have you ever used a comb before Potter?'

Harry held his messy hair up while Draco tied the sling ends together. 'I've tried. Nothing works, not even magic. I suppose you spend at least an hour every morning making yours all neat and tidy.'

'My hair is naturally magnificent,' Draco boasted.

'...You're such a girl.'

'I am not! There is nothing wrong with taking pride in my appearance.'

'Keep telling yourself that. How long you take in the bathroom when you get a pimple?'

'I don't get pimples, Potter.'

'Yeah right Malfoy. Everyone gets pimples. I bet even Voldmort had them when he was a teenager. Whoa, that's a weird mental image.' The thought of a teenaged Voldemort scowling at a mirror made Harry snicker.

Seeing Draco's disbelieving face he added 'seriously. Even he was a teenager once and he must have gone through the same things.'

At the end of the lesson, Harry rejoined his friends and headed for dinner.

'What started that fight?' Ron asked, grinning. Hermione was frowning.

'Malfoy, said something and I overreacted,' Harry said.

'What did he say? It must have been bad.'

'...He was wondering how come I can speak Parsletongue and he made a comment about my eye color. He pretty much compared to, you know, what we saw in Defence.'

Both Ron and Hermione gasped and scowled furiously.

'How could he? That's an awful thing to say!'

'It's sick. The bloody git.'

'It's over now,' Harry said. 'I know my eyes are just from my mum.' He paused. 'Hey, do they, like, really look anything like the spell?'

His friend peered into his eyes and shook their heads. 'They are a similar color,' Hermione said, 'but not enough to make such a comparison.'

'Yeah, they don't have that, that look that the spell has,' Ron put in. 'Your eyes don't look like death Harry.'

Harry smiled.

'Well, except during History of Magic.'

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*Quoted from the book.* What do you think? Sorry if it seems like I'm rushing over things, I just don't see much point in rewriting stuff that's going to be the same as cannon. Tell me if I can improve that. Thanks for reading!