CHAPTER TWELVE: Home Sweet Home


Author's Note: Just a heads up... First year will be ending soon! I won't say how soon. But, just so you guys aren't too shocked!


Harry hastily threw things into his trunk one after one, floating some in with a handy levitation charm he'd been working on and tossing the other, less breakable objects, from a distance.

He gasped for breath as he darted around, idly wondering how he'd made his room into such a mess. He didn't own very many things, he shuddered to think of what his room would look like when he did.

"Harry, did you just wake up?" Draco's voice called through the wall accusingly.

Harry had promised Draco that he could wake up and be ready to go without being beaten awake. Draco had taken this as a challenge and forced Harry into a bet wherein if he was not ready to go in time, he would not only owe the other boy ten galleons, but Draco would spend the rest of his days beating him awake with a pillow.

Harry threw things into his trunk a little more hastily, shoving in one of his new cloaks on top and snapping it shut. "No!" he lied through his teeth, yelling out the door and into the hall. "Just... washing up!"

He raced into the bathroom, slamming the door closed.

He stared in the mirror, rubbing at his exhaustion-pinched eyes. He had never been a morning person. Years of being woken up early, and you'd think he'd have adjusted.

He reached for a comb, running it through his black locks. He yanked on a tangle, flinching in pain as he pulled through it. He finished up with brushing his teeth and a quick freshen up charm that he was thankful he'd had time to practice.

He darted out the bathroom door, deciding to forgo a morning shower. The freshen up charm did the trick enough to deceive Draco, surely.

Draco was leaned against the wall, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched. He looked as meticulously groomed as always as he watched Harry, who offered him a hesitant smile and walked over to his trunk.

"So you got up on time?" Draco asked, deceptively sweetly.

Harry shuddered at the dangerous tone and nodded. "Yeah, totally, of course," he said, not looking up at the blond.

"Got everything?" Draco asked.

Harry paused, lifting open his trunk and thinking. "I - yeah," Harry said slowly, not believing his own words.

Missing... something was missing... But what?

Invisibility cloak.

Harry stood up very straight, looking around the room. He'd seen it just last night, hadn't he?

Draco smirked at him knowingly. "It's time to go, I really do hope you have everything," he said in a falsely cheery voice. He stopped leaning on the wall and straightened up, brushing himself off and heading out the door.

Harry looked around helplessly, ducking under his bed and feeling around for the silvery cloak.

"Where is it?" Harry groaned to himself.

"Two minutes!" Draco called gleefully from the steps.

"I'm on my way!" Harry yelled back, hissing in pain as he pulled out from under the bed and smacked his head on the frame.

Time was ticking. Harry didn't want to lose. Nor did he want to spend the rest of his days being smacked with pillows into consciousness. It really didn't help with his distaste for mornings.

He raced around the room, checking in the drawers of the wardrobe, under the wardrobe, under the chair, behind the chair, in the chair cushion.

"Thirty seconds!" Draco called cheerfully.

"Draco, it's time to go! Your Father will be at the station to see you off, and he doesn't have long!" Narcissa's call cut through the boys' argument.

Harry groaned in defeat, lugging his heavy trunk toward the door.

"And, you lost," Draco said cheerfully as Harry appeared at the top of the steps. "By two seconds. Such a shame. Here you are," the Slytherin said, unlatching his own trunk and pulling out Harry's invisibility cloak. He handed it to the stunned boy, still grinning.

"You cheated!" Harry gasped.

"There was a rule against that?" Draco asked innocently.

Harry glared, and then his eyes alighted on to something minuscule squirming on Draco's shoulder. He reached forward, snapping it up with his fingers, eyeing it curiously. Draco patted his shoulder in a nervous fashion, eyes wide as he leaned forward to get a better look at what Harry had in between his fingers.

It was a stinging worm, used in some more dangerous potions. Their needle-like tail produced a poison that was not usually dangerous to humans, but became so with the right ingredients.

The worm dug its poisonless stinger into Harry's finger and the green-eyed boy gave a sharp hiss, dropping it and stepping it into the floor without a second thought.

Draco's eyebrows knitted in concern. "What was that?"

Harry looked up at him, eyes narrowed. "A stinging worm, Draco, why did you have a-"

"Draco, come now, you can't miss the train," Draco's mother called up the steps with mild impatience.

Draco hopped cheerfully down the steps, utterly pleased with himself and seemingly eager to avoid the subject. Harry cast a floating charm on his trunk and. remembering he had lost the bet, stomped grumpily down, scowling.

"What's the matter with you two?" Narcissa asked curiously, a small frown cast on her delicate features. Draco smiled.

"Nothing! We're doing brilliant! Love you Mum!" Draco chirped, practically skipping past her toward the fireplace.

"Just brilliant," Harry intoned morosely, following after the blond quietly.

Narcissa watched the two suspiciously before shaking it off and stepping into the Floo fire after them.


Following the long, excitement-ridden train ride, the boys hopped down the stairs toward the dungeon and home to their familiar common room.

"I never thought I'd miss it this much," Harry said as they approached the painting. "Purus," he said. The painting nodded agreeably and swung open to reveal the silver and green common room.

Draco's head felt muddled as he searched for a response before he finally decided one wasn't necessary, and followed the other into the dorm, yawning.

"Hey Draco, Harry," Adrian Pucey said as the two stepped inside, nodding but not looking up from his book. "Have a good Christmas?" he asked in a distracted tone.

Harry nodded and beamed, falling into a chair next to the Keeper. "Yeah! Best Christmas ever. How was yours? Get any cool stuff?" he asked excitedly.

Draco rubbed sleepily at one eye, settling down in a chair a little further away from the two as they chatted, his eyes drifting closed. Train rides were always so exhausting.

So very, very exhausting.

Darkness began pulling the boy under.

"Draco, are you all right?" Harry's sharp voice cut through the boy's near-sleep. Draco shot upright, bloodshot eyes narrowed as he glared at the other boy.

"Of course," he snapped. He fought another yawn, leaning back into his cushioned seat.

Now if he'd just let me sleep, Draco mused silently, eyelids drooping.

Harry stood up with a look of concern, walking over to the blond as his eyelids dropped again. The green-eyed Slytherin grabbed Draco by the shoulder, giving him a shake which gradually brought the wizard to consciousness once more.

"You're falling asleep," Harry insisted.

"No, I'm being shaken awake by some idiot," Draco snapped in response, finding himself almost unable to keep his eyes open any longer.

"You're really pale, Draco," Adrian intoned quietly, hoping not to draw more attention to the three of them.

"Gee thanks, it's winter, forgot I'm supposed to be out sunning," Draco snapped, barely finding the energy to tug his arm away from Harry. "I'm just tired, that's all," he insisted. His legs suddenly began to give way and he swayed in place, eyes closing.

"Draco!" Harry's sharp voice was drowned out by a rushing in his ears as everything turned to black and he fell into the sleep that had been playing at the edges of his mind.


The blond woke up some time later, finding himself staring up at a white ceiling. He took in a deep breath, and the pungent smell of healing potions assaulted him.

He sat up, his head throbbing as he did, and looked around.

"Oh good, you're up," Madam Pomphrey said from his right, startling him as he turned to look at her. "Yes, yes, just drink up, there you go," she said as she handed him a cup of some unidentified potion, tipping it toward his lips.

He took a confused drink, and a feeling like a bucket of cold water washed over him. He opened his eyes a little wider, noting for the first time that it was nighttime. The hospital wing was dark, dimly lit on his side by candles.

"Feeling all right? Aside from the headache?" the Healer asked impatiently. Draco blinked, nodding. His mouth felt dry as he opened it to speak and he let out a hoarse cough.

"This boy," Madam Pomphrey said, nodding to a darkened figure slumped in a chair on Draco's left, "claims that you simply collapsed in the middle of the common room. Good thing he got you here as fast as he did, seems as if you were poisoned by some sort of potion gone wrong. Although, I suspect nothing too serious would have happened."

Draco blinked several times, eyes widening. "I wasn't making any-" he began to lie.

"Oh no, no it couldn't have been your fault dear, the potion ingredients needed to result in such a strong affect, they simply aren't used in first year potions. Well, you're free to lay back down then." She waved her wand over him a few times, nodding to herself. "Everything seems to be in working order. You should be able to go to breakfast in the morning. Tell me if anything new, anything at all, starts to happen? Toes start glowing, stomach starts to hurt, that sort of thing," she said idly, fighting a yawn.

Draco bristled at the insult to his potion-making abilities but laid back down, nodding innocently.

She mistook his slight look of irritation. "I could offer you some dreamless sleep potion, if the headache is persistent?" she asked as she stood, preparing to blow out the candles.

He shook his head, rolling over. "I'm fine," he said simply. She nodded and blew out the last couple candles, carrying her own with her to the end of the room and into her office.

Draco sat up as soon as she was gone, looking around. The room was empty, except for one bed that had its curtains drawn. He turned to Harry's sleeping form, frowning in thought.

He no longer felt very tired, but in his mind he went over the potions he had been practicing before Christmas break. It had probably been Draught of the Living Death. He'd thought those fumes were the wrong shade of purple, no wonder they'd made him feel a bit ill.

Glancing around at the dark shadows on the walls, the blond fell back on to his pillow, exhaling deeply and letting his eyes drift closed.


Harry woke up with a jump, his scar searing a bit in pain. He winced, eyes narrowed against the light, and clutched his forehead.

"Scar hurting?" Draco inquired.

Harry jumped again, this time almost knocking over his seat. He moved his hand away from his forehead, smiling as the stab of pain faded. "You're awake!" he declared cheerfully.

The blond smiled wryly, dark shadows remaining under his eyes. He looked rather pale, with bloodshot eyes. "Yes, quite. It was just a sleeping potion," Draco said dismissively.

"Who gave you a sleeping potion?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"I was making one myself before we left," Draco said after checking to make sure Madam Pomphrey wasn't in the room. "Must have accidentally inhaled something a little too deeply."

Harry nodded. "Oh, I see." He looked to the clock on the wall, pressing his lips together. "Well I'm not sure when you're allowed to leave, but we have Quidditch in-"

Draco leapt from his bed, eyes wide. "Let's go!" he cried.

Harry glanced anxiously back toward the door of the Healer's study and cast an abrupt charm on the blond that Draco didn't immediately recognize. It felt a bit like his face was being scrubbed roughly with a soft rag, then faded.

Madam Pomphrey dashed out of her study, eyes narrowed as she approached the two, shaking her head.

"Wait, wait just one moment," she snapped. "Trying to run off for Quidditch, surely going to come back with a broken limb or two," she muttered under her breath as she waved her wand over the boy, frowning in thought.

"Can I go now?" Draco asked impatiently.

Madam Pomphrey shook her head, frowning. "You should take it easy, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to sit out this match, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco deflated. "You can't do-"

"Please, Madam Pomphrey? He looks so much better, and we really can't play without a Chaser. It's too early in the season for us to have all of the backup players set-up!" Harry pleaded, green eyes round and innocent.

That was, in all truth, a bit of a lie. They did have one Chaser back-up, which was all they'd need if Draco needed to sit out a match. But it was true they didn't have all of them.

The Healer frowned softly, looking over the Malfoy heir once again. She opened up her mouth and began to shake her head and Harry sent her the most pitiful look he could manage, soft green eyes wide and eyebrows drawn inward with intense sadness.

"Well, I suppose he is looking quite a bit better," she said hesitantly. "It was just a sleeping potion."

Draco put on his best hopeful look, adding in a slight chin wobble for affect.

Madam Pomphrey sighed, shaking her head. "All right, all right. But you must take it easy. I swear if you come back with a cracked skull, or-"

"Thanks Madam Pomphrey!" Harry chirped, dashing out of the hospital wing with Draco at his heels.


"You look a fright, I'm not sure how to make that spell last any longer than it already has," Harry informed him as the two headed to breakfast before Quidditch.

"What? Spell?"

Harry nodded without looking back. "I just thought it might help our cause if you didn't look like you'd just been poisoned, so I may have, helped us along a bit, with a freshening up spell," he said innocently.

Draco laughed, smiling despite his slight headache before suddenly what the other boy said registered completely. Suddenly, he came to a screeching halt outside of the Great Hall.

"I look a fright?"

"Yes, can I borrow your scarf before you go?"

"A fright?"


Draco, having chosen to skip out on breakfast before he made himself look presentable, raced up the moving staircases to the pitch.

Harry was waiting for him just by the door, and handed him a piece of toast. "Eat," he demanded.

Draco glared at him. "We don't have time for-"

"Eat or you'll pass out on the field and Madam Pomphrey will obliterate me!"

Draco groaned, taking a bite of the toast begrudgingly and stomping out toward the field with a very pleased-with-himself Harry following suit. As he swallowed, warmth blossomed in his chest and spread through his limbs, his body humming with appreciation. He hadn't realized how hungry he really was.

Adrian was excited to see the two, waving eagerly. "Glad you're all right," he said with a smile to the blond Slytherin, who nodded in response. Harry smiled back and Draco finished off his toast, doing his best to still look grumpy about it.

"Is that Professor Snape?" Draco asked suddenly, eyes narrowed as he looked across the field.

Adrian nodded. "He opted to referee this match. Weird, isn't it? Always got the feeling he hated Quidditch - or everything but Potions, for that matter."

Draco ignored him, looking over to Harry with his eyebrows furrowed. Harry frowned at his friend's thinking look, but just then, the match was called to start.

The boys took up their posts and mounted their brooms.

The game began.


"Was that - did he - seriously?"

"Is this a joke?"

Harry stared down at the Snitch in his hand as disbelief swept through the speechless crowd, snarls of disbelief emanating off the Ravenclaw team.

Cheers, louder than he was sure had ever been recorded from the Slytherins, erupted from the green and silver stands. Hermione clapped too, smiling brightly from the Gryffindor stands as Seamus Finnigan, Ronald Weasley and some of the other Gryffindors shot her angry glares.

His team swarmed around him, buzzing with glee so loud it drowned out the resentment of the Ravenclaws across the field entirely.

"That was four bloody minutes, Harry!" Adrian shouted, being the first to reach him. He patted the other boy solidly on the back, a face-splitting toothy grin spread across his features.

"Way to end the only game for the month in a record amount of time," Draco drawled. Harry looked up from his snitch at once, a small smile tugging up one corner of his lips at the smirk on the blond's face.

Harry began to laugh, and suddenly everyone was joining in. Harry's face was red, and he could barely breathe, but he laughed because he was sure if he didn't the feelings of absolute wonder and joy would make him explode.

Flint even cracked a toothy grin, giving a short bark of laughter. He shook his head, stalking toward the building without a word. The team began to hesitantly follow, each person towing Harry along with them.

"You've just set a world record."

"No, no, remember that one guy who-"

"-Who cares? Shut up! Harry, are you going to be a professional Quidditch player when you're older?"

"-my Dad knows the Captain of the Chudley Cannons, and-"

"-the Cannons? They're rubbish! Potter, you really ought to look into-"

"Bloody hell, we just won without anyone scoring a single thing-"

"Am I the only one a little disappointed that I was only in the air for four minutes?"

"Oh stuff it you swine, we just-"

Harry shook his head, gasping for breath ever so slightly as he walked, in a daze, toward the changing room.

"That was brilliant Harry," Draco said, smiling over at the other boy. "The look on their faces, you should have seen it. Their Seeker hadn't even seen the Snitch by the time you had it."

Harry laughed, nodding then shaking his head, not sure how to answer or react. "I - yeah - oh it was.. it was a rush."

Draco laughed in response, and the duo shifted away from the now noisily disputing crowd - what team Harry should join, who he should share his free tickets with when he's famous - and trailed slowly behind. Harry took in a few deep breaths, the cold air's sting feeling oddly pleasant against his lungs.

"You know, I'm supposed to be rightfully devastated that Ravenclaw is statistically unlikely to win a single match against Slytherin for the next seven years, but Harry you should have seen yourself," Stephen's voice greeted the two as he approached.

"So I've been told," Harry said faintly, smiling at the sky and letting his eyes drift closed.

"How did you do it?" Stephen demanded.

Harry laughed. "I think I was spurned by the horrible fear of what Madam Pomphrey would do to me if I let Draco fly in his condition," he teased very seriously.

Draco shook his head. "He's been flying like that all break."

"Not surprising, your Dad was one of the best flyers Hogwarts ever had too," Stephen said, clearly torn between frustration for his House and happiness for his friend.

Harry opened his eyes, turning to face the boy. "He was?" he asked quietly.

Stephen nodded. "Chaser though. Funny how that works, I can't see you playing any other position than Seeker, anyway."

"Everyone seems to know more about my parents than I do," Harry said, frowning.

"Well you could have just said something, Harry. There's lots of information to be found on them, at least from their time at Hogwarts," Stephen said. He looked back, a group of blue-clad boys waving him over whilst glaring at the Slytherins. "I've got to go, congratulations Harry," he said distractedly, patting the boy on the shoulder one final time before dashing off, after the other Ravenclaws as they headed for the castle.

"I'm sure one of my relatives has a picture of your grandmother somewhere, Harry. And probably some of your dad, when he was younger," Draco added as the two started their own walk back to the castle.

"I'd like to see those, if I could," Harry mumbled, staring at the ground.

"I'll owl Mom, she'll send some," Draco replied. He offered the boy another smile.

Harry blinked numbly for a few moments, before shooting the other boy a grateful smile.


"It's good to be back at Hogwarts," Harry said as they pushed open the doors to the castle, passing the changing room. They passed through the castle in silence, and Harry gave a quiet yawn as they headed up the steps toward the dorms from the common room.

"I think we should tail Quirrel tonight," Draco blurted as the two entered their dorm.

"What?" Harry asked, turning to look at the boy in surprise.

"With the cloak. We've got to find out where he's hiding that object, or what he's planning, or... at least... something!"

Harry blinked, before nodding enthusiastically as he processed his friend's words. "All right, yeah. It's not like he'll be expecting a couple of first years in an invisibility cloak. We've just got to be careful."

"When aren't we careful?" Draco replied, smiling. He headed over to Harry's trunk, pulling out the cloak.

"We're going now?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Of course. What if he just goes to sleep? We can't very well get up in the middle of the night and hope we run into him. We'll go to dinner and then we'll follow him out and slip on the cloak."


Harry and Draco trailed down the corridor toward the Great Hall, invisibility cloak folded away in Harry's bag.

"I'm starving," a voice groaned from behind. Ronald Weasley stomped passed the two boys, Seamus Finnigan at his tail. Draco glared heatedly at the two as they noisily cut in front of the two Slytherins and stomped into the hall, complaining loudly about the match.

"Slytherins are all bleeding cheaters, everyone knows that," Seamus said in response to something Ron said. He glared at the duo as they passed the Gryffindor table.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't waste your energy," he mumbled to Draco, who was curling his hands into fists, grey eyes flashing.

"Who do they think they are?" Draco spat as he threw himself into his seat.

"They're idiots, I thought this was established," Harry said dryly, taking his own seat next to him.

"Who? Gryffindors?" Pansy Parkinson spoke up from across the two.

Draco nodded. "They're over their groaning painfully about the Slytherin Quidditch Team. Rather bitter we've got claim to the Quidditch Cup for the year, I'd imagine."

"Don't let them get to you Draco," Pansy said soothingly.

Harry nodded in agreement with what Pansy was saying for once. Blaise rolled his eyes across from where the two sat, prodding his food on the table with his fork grumpily. He had received detention for being caught kicking Mrs. Norris - whom Filch had been very protective over since the disappearing accident - and hadn't been able to make the match. "Why are we even wasting our time talking about them?" he drawled. "Somebody tell me how we won, then?"

Draco nodded in agreement and launched into a detailed explanation of the match, embellishing a rather long tale of excitement and daring for a match that only lasted four minutes.

Harry looked up as Hermione walked over to the table, her cheeks red with what looked like fading anger. She smiled as Harry noticed her approach, and waved. Harry waved back welcomingly, and Pansy made a disgusted noise from where she sat.

"Harry, congratulations on the match," she said warmly. Harry beamed.

"Thanks!" he replied cheerfully, grinning. Draco looked over and spared the witch a glare before returning to his conversation with Blaise.

Hermione rolled her eyes discreetly at the blond's stretched tale. "And to you too, Draco," she said unenthusiastically. He politely ignored her in response, and she turned her gaze back to Harry, eyes wide. "Harry, I overheard something," she said in a low tone without much preamble. She was for once thankful of the Slytherins' attempts to ignore her very existence.

Harry blinked in thought, eyes widening as he registered what she must mean. It had to be about Quirrel. He elbowed Draco discreetly. The blond hissed mid-sentence, giving Blaise an apologetic look and turning an evil eye to Harry hatefully. Harry nodded toward the bushy-haired Gryffindor very seriously.

"I thought you both might want to know-"

Draco held up a hand to stop her, eyes flicking distrustfully to the now-interested eyes watching their conversation. Even Pansy had stopped her usual chattering with one of her friends to watch from the corner of her eye.

"Harry's the only one who needed help with the History of Magic homework," he said very boredly, returning to his food. "Now please, do leave us alone."

Hermione blinked, not understanding. The other Slytherins exchanged looks of disappointment that the conversation had not been more interesting, and returned to their own, a few stopping to give Hermione more unwelcoming glares.

Harry stood just as Hermione's expression began to morph to one of hurt, nodding toward the door of the Great Hall, understanding the message in Draco's words even if Hermione didn't. As he stood up, his scar seared in pain, and he clamped a hand angrily to his forehead, eyes pinching in pain. He unconsciously hissed out a curse in parseltongue that he had heard the elder snakes using.

None of the people around seemed to recognize it as anything more than an exclamation of pain. Harry nodded to the girl, gesturing toward the door. "Thanks for the help Hermione," he said unnecessarily loudly, fighting to ignore the urge to look to the Professors' table and see if Quirrel was watiching him as he suspected. "I really appreciate it. You know I'm rubbish at History of Magic."

The black-haired boy began to stride toward the exit and Hermione kept pace with him, seeming to catch on and nodding thoughtfully. "You wouldn't be if you just paid attention in class," she said in a lecturing tone as he shoved open one of the large doors.


Draco caught up with them by the time they had settled down into one of the icy, fenced-in gardens surrounding the castle. Hermione conjured another bluebell fire, setting it into a jar next to herself and nodding to the two very seriously.

"What's this about, then?" Draco said impatiently. "And Granger, do try not to go shouting off about things like that in the middle of the Great Hall next time."