This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokémon, which belong to the Pokémon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokémon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

Over the week that followed Harry kept his word to Malfoy not to say anything about what they were doing. It wasn't easy. Ginny was sniffing around for the opportunity to ask him about his confrontation with Malfoy on the train, but so far she had been unable to get him alone. Meanwhile Ron and Hermione did not know anything of what was going on, and so far Ginny was trusting Harry enough not to spill the beans, but Harry knew that this could not last forever. Eventually he'd be forced to face the music.

Or he could hope that it all cleared up by the time Ginny was able to corner him. After all, his job was only to take Malfoy's message to Dumbledore. It was entirely possible that after doing so he wouldn't need to be involved anymore at all, and Harry planned on talking to the aged Headmaster very soon.

Friday evening arrived with much anticipation and, even though they did not know anything about what was going on, Hermione and Ron had become all too aware of it. He explained it off as being excited for Quidditch practice, the first one being the next day, and while that did seem to satisfy his friends Harry knew he really needed to be more careful. Neither Ron nor Hermione were stupid.

"Are you sure you're alright, Harry?" Hermione asked him at dinner, frowning and glancing down at his plate of mostly untouched food. "You've barely eaten."

"Yeah, come on mate. You're not going to be much use at Quidditch if you don't eat," Ron added. Harry tried to wave them away.

"I'm just not hungry," he told them. He glanced up at the staff table. There was Dumbledore, sitting at the centre of the teachers. He'd tell him tonight.

Hermione was still frowning. "You do look a bit peaky," she told him, leaning forward to place a hand on his forehead. "And you do seem a little warm. Maybe you're be coming down with something."

Harry, sensing an opportunity, rolled with it.

"Maybe," he said. "Actually you could be right. I'll just go see Madam Pomfrey. I'll see you back in the common room." And with his excuses made Harry stood up and strode from the Great Hall.

The corridors were quiet at this time of the evening but not entirely empty. Dinner had been going on for a while now so Harry came across a fair few Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students heading up to their common rooms, and even some Hufflepuffs and Slytherins heading towards the library. His destination, however, was the sixth floor.

The room they'd picked out to meet was an old and dusty unused classroom, the sort of room that probably hadn't seen a class in years. A layer of dust covered all the desks and the window by the front of the room had a small crack that would have been fixed and replaced had anyone been around to notice it. The room itself was small and unremarkable, somewhere that no one would think to look, and it was situated just down the corridor from Slughorn's office.

The clock ticked in a steady rhythm as Harry sat there, causing him to glance its way every so often. Time seemed to crawl by as he waited for when they were to meet.

And then, as the clock ticked just past eight, a rustle of movement sounded as Malfoy appeared suddenly in the middle of the room, an Alakazam by his side.

"Coast's clear," he said briskly, not bothering with pleasantries as he looked down on where Harry sat.

Harry climbed to his feet. "Slughorn's gone?" He asked. "You're sure?"

"I saw him leave the castle just a minute ago," Malfoy told him. "Now hurry up so we can get this over with." He nodded to Alakazam.

"Wait," Harry said quickly. Alakazam, preparing to teleport them, paused. "We can't just appear in Slughorn's office."

"Why not?" Asked Malfoy shortly. "You think it's impolite?"

"What if there's someone in there," Harry reasoned. "How would we be able to explain our presence, much less why we're apparently working together?"

"Well, fortunately we won't have to," Malfoy said slowly, as if speaking to someone really dumb. "There won't be anyone in Slughorn's office. He's not there."

"How can you know?" Harry pestered. "You never know when he decides to invite someone round."

"Why would he invite someone over when he's busy sneaking plants from Sprout?" Malfoy complained. "You're being ridiculous."

"I'm being cautious," Harry denied. "What's the harm in taking a few extra seconds to have a look through the keyhole before we teleport blindly into the room."

Malfoy crossed his arms.

"Fine," he said. "Have it your way, Potter." While not being entirely sincere at least he wasn't arguing.

"Let's go."

The corridor outside their little meeting place was empty, which was hardly surprising. One of the reasons this particular office was so sought after by Slughorn was most likely due to how it wasn't anywhere near any of the major thoroughfares through the castle. Quiet and peaceful, which would make what Harry was trying to do a lot easier.

He snuck down the corridor and crouched by the door. He peered through the keyhole.

His view of Slughorn's office didn't show much, Harry could only see what was situated directly in front of him, but he didn't see anything suspicious or sense any movement and, pressing his ear to the door, he couldn't hear anything either.

He glanced back at Malfoy, who was watching with an unimpressed look.

"Seems clear," Harry admitted. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"As I expected," he drawled and he clicked his fingers. A moment later Alakazam had teleported them inside the office.

Harry had a quick look round.

"Seems like we got lucky," Harry murmured, instinctively keeping his voice low. Malfoy snorted.

"Come on, Potter, quit wasting time," he drawled, walking further into the office and not caring to keep the volume down. "Wouldn't want Slughorn to catch you here alone."

"What do you mean, alone," Harry shot back.

"If Slughorn gets back I'm getting out of here regardless of whether we've got the bottle or not," Malfoy told him. "It's in your interests to find the poison now. So get to it."

Harry scowled. "Okay," he said reluctantly. "So, what am I looking for?"

"A bottle of oak matured mead," Malfoy told him. "I doubt you've ever had a beverage of this caliber so you likely won't recognise it. Back when I slipped it to Slughorn I placed it on that table there, alongside a collection of other items Slughorn was clearly giving away, and attached a tag with the word Dumbledore on it."

"Can't imagine why that didn't work," Harry muttered quietly.

"Anyway, it is clearly not on the table any more," Malfoy continued, ignoring Harry's interruption. "I imagine he's stashed it away somewhere secure, along with undoubtedly other such beverages he saves for a rainy day. I imagine we're looking for… Potter?"

"Shh," Harry whispered, holding up a hand to stop him, a finger held to his lips. He'd heard something.

For a long moment the two of them stood in silence.

There it was again, Malfoy clearly hearing it too, a soft snivelling sound, accompanied by a grunt. Harry and Malfoy shared a look.

The noise was coming from behind Professor Slughorn's opulent wooden desk, set aside on the opposite side of the room from where they stood. As quietly as possible the two boys crept towards the noise, approaching the desk from either side, making sure to stay silent, lest whatever lay behind the desk be disturbed.

Another grunt sounded and Harry came to a halt. He was by the desk now, another couple of steps would grant him sight of the whole area, and would show him what it was that was hidden from view. He looked back to Malfoy, nodding his head over to where Alakazam stood silently where they had left him, and Malfoy got the message. He nodded.

As Alakazam prepared to teleport them out of there at a moment's notice Harry ever so carefully crept round the side of Slughorn's desk and looked down.

And there, lying fast asleep beneath Slughorn's desk, was Grumpig.

Harry quickly gestured Malfoy back, tiptoeing away from where Grumpig slept, not saying a word until he'd finally joined Malfoy at the other end of the room.

"It's Slughorn's Grumpig," he murmured. Malfoy's eyes widened. "He's asleep."

"No sudden movements," agreed Malfoy. "And we need to be fast. Let's find this thing and get out."

Harry nodded in agreement.

"You said Slughorn would keep the bottle with others like it," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Where would that be? You know people like Slughorn, where do they keep their booze?"

Malfoy looked offended. "Oak matured mead is not booze, Potter," he sneered. "Liquor of that quality would be the pride of any room, displayed in a glass cabinet for all to see. Although, Slughorn is a teacher…" His eyes surveyed the many cupboards that surrounded the office.

"The cupboards, then?" Harry suggested.

"Try the lower ones," Malfoy instructed. "Slughorn wouldn't put his drinks in a place he couldn't easily reach." And they split up.

Their search of the room was thorough but silent. Each boy was only too aware of how close they were to being caught - a knocked over vial might bring an end to their search immediately and if Slughorn knew someone had been snooping around it would just be that much more difficult to try again. They searched each and ever cupboard at ground level, each taking a side of the room, but after a thorough sweep found nothing.

They met up back at the door.

"So what now?" Harry asked. "The upper cabinets?"

"Unlikely," Malfoy told him. "I'd say not worth even checking, unless as a last resort. The more we search the more I'm beginning to think it's not here."

"Perhaps," Harry murmured. "But I'm not ready to give up yet. After all, we haven't found the rest of his drinks. Does Slughorn really seem like the type not to enjoy the occasional glass of wine."

"More than occasional," Malfoy commented but he was in agreement. "Anyone who drinks like Slughorn, and I've seen him drink plenty in the Great Hall, would keep his supply close at hand. There's only one place I would think that we haven't checked." He looked to the desk.

Slughorn's desk was magnificent. In fact, even Dumbledore's paled in comparison. With a chair situated in the middle on one side alone there were six different drawers. On the other side sat a sliding door.

Harry, silent as he could be, reached out to touch it.

It was locked.

He turned to Malfoy.

Malfoy seemed to understand what he was asking for because a moment later Alakazam was at his side. The psychic type turned his attention to the door, focusing hard, and a moment later the lock clicked.

Under the desk Grumpig grunted in his sleep.

It looked like they were in luck. As Harry pulled back the door, wincing as the wheels rattled with the movement, bottle upon bottle appeared before them, stored such that only the top of every bottle was visible to them. Harry had no idea what he was looking at really, alcohol had never been a subject he gave much attention, but from the labels alone he could tell that they were all very expensive.

As Harry opened the door to its fullest Malfoy stepped forward, peering intently at the bottles with careful eyes. So intense was his scrutiny that he did not even notice the floor beneath him had dipped. His foot fell the extra inch and hit the floor with a sharp tap and Malfoy's eyes widened as he began to sway.

Instinctively Harry reached out and grabbed a hold of Malfoy's wrist. He steadied, no longer off balance, and after a brief glance between them they looked down to where Grumpig lay.

He was, thankfully, still asleep.

Harry let out a breath of relief. Looking to Malfoy he received a nod, indicating for him to let go, and as he did so Malfoy leaned in closer to the cabinet.

A minute passed in silence as Malfoy's grey eyes roamed the many bottles, searching out details Harry couldn't possibly hope to distinguish, before he reached out suddenly, his hand closing around the neck of one of them, and gently, inch by inch, he prised it free.

With the bottle in hand Malfoy looked at it closely, his eyes scanning the label, before he turned to Harry and nodded.

Harry started to roll back the door, hating the way the wheels squeaked at the slightest movement. They were so close now, so very close, all they had to do was close and lock the cabinet without getting caught and they were out of there. So close.

The door shut with the tiniest of thuds, the lock clicked, and Harry, Malfoy, and Alakazam teleported out of the room.

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Feeling weak at the knees he straightened from his crouched position only to fall gratefully into one of the desk chairs, his nerves frazzled. Next to him Malfoy looked no better, his face white as he looked down at the bottle in his hands. Harry looked at it too.

"Is that it?"

Malfoy's head snapped towards him.

"Of course it is," he scowled. "I wasn't just taking my pick from Slughorn's collection. This is the poison. I'm sure of it."

Harry leaned forward, curiosity now getting the better of him.

"What sort of poison is it?" He asked, glancing up at Malfoy's face. Malfoy frowned.

"If I gave you a detailed description you would not understand a single word I say," he replied coolly. "Just know that it is dangerous. A demonstration might help."

Malfoy looked over to his Alakazam, the psychic type having been silent throughout, and held up the bottle. A moment later the cork began to wriggle. It almost seemed as though it was trying to escape the bottle and pull itself free, though Harry knew at once that this was Alakazam's doing, and once it came loose the cork floated silently in midair.

Malfoy gestured Harry to an abandoned desk.

"Watch," he instructed and, carefully as he could, he tipped the bottle.

A single drop fell from the opening, Malfoy immediately righting the bottle as it did so, and fell to land upon the wood of the desk. It sizzled loudly.

"See," Malfoy said dully, placing the bottle down carefully on the desk next to where the poison was at work. "Incredibly caustic. See how it eats through wood. Glass is chemically neutral so it doesn't react but we had to place a specially designed film over the base of the cork to stop the poison from eating right through. Just imagine what this would do to someone's stomach."

"I'd rather not," said Harry, looking at the desk. A hole had been burned through, nearly an inch deep. He felt sick.

"So you'll talk to Dumbledore?" Said Malfoy. "He's here. You'll talk to him tonight?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said softly. "I'll talk to him."

A/N: Thank you for reading. I had a bit of a tough time writing this chapter but hopefully it hasn't come out too bad.

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Until next time.