On the Other Side of the Mirror

Chapter 2: Know Thy Enemy

Malfoy leaned in further and placed his soft pink lips on Harry's, engaging in a searing kiss. Harry opened his mouth, welcoming the warmth of Malfoy's tongue, tasting him thoroughly. They broke off after a moment, gasping for breath.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps coming down the adjacent hall.

"Draco, go!" Harry whispered fiercely to him.

Malfoy caught his hand, "When am I going to see you again?"

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Harry made his way to the Great Hall, his mind whirling so fast that he felt a bit dizzy. He kissed me. Draco fucking Malfoy kissed me. And I kissed him back. What's wrong with me? We're mortal enemies, supposed to hate each other forever. He's a Slytherin, and I'm a Gryffindor.

Then, once more, it dawned on him. This was yet another way the wizarding world was controlling him. Not it's people, but it's unspoken rules and ethics. Gryffindors and Slytherins just didn't mix.

And since when did he become 'Draco'? I'm definitely cracking.

Yes, you are. And you're too afraid too admit that you like him.

Shut up!

Admit it. You think he's hot.

No, he's not. Not really. Okay, maybe just a little.

A little?

Um, yeah.

A little?

Alright! I think he's hot. Very hot.

Told you so.

Shut up! Shit, I'm having a conversation with myself.

Harry strode purposely over to the Gryffindor table and, ignoring Hermione's wave that was motioning him over, he went to sit next to Dean, Neville, and Seamus. Glancing over at the Slytherin table, in what he hoped was a casual way, he caught Draco's eye. The silver orbs, which he could clearly see from across the hall, were glowing with contentment and excitement.

Harry felt giddy.

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The next day, Harry caught up with Malfoy after breakfast, pulling him into an isolated alcove in the wall. He kissed him fiercely before whispering, "Meet me at midnight in the Astronomy Tower," before gently pushing him back into the river of students flooding the halls.

A moment later, Harry emerged himself and headed down to the dungeons for Double Potions.

"Today we will be making Healing potions. Instead of bottling just one from each person, you will bottle as many as possible, provided that your potion is the right color." Snape sneered at the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins, as if to sneer his doubt into their heads.

Someone piped up, "Why are we bottling so many?"

Snape glared at the person, his dark eyes glittering. "Madame Pomfery needs them for the hospital patients. The number of war casualties is rising rapidly."

Whispers followed this statement. It was public knowledge that the Hospital Wing was being used as a facility to heal not just students now, but also other people, most of whom were members of the Order (not that the student body realized this). Harry could feel through the link in his scar that Voldemort was growing stronger, although it was slow.

"Silence!" The professor bellowed.

"The potion is on 205-212 in the text and ingredients are in the cupboard as usual." Snape stared at them for a moment, his eyes boring into theirs. "What are you waiting for? A private invitation? Get moving!"

An hour later, Harry's potion was a bubbling purple liquid, the correct color. Snape sneered again and swept past his cauldron.

Harry, however, was not particularly surprised. Toward the end of last year and during the summer (right after his seventeenth birthday, the age of adulthood in the wizarding world) he noticed an enhancement in his magical abilities. After a little research, Harry came to the conclusion that this improvement was a result of his anger and frustration at the world around him. There was a great deal of pent up energy inside of himself and this was channeled to his magical core. Besides finding that his Occlumency walls were tighter and stronger, he discovered that he could do wandless magic. This was quite on accident—he didn't realize that his wand was not in his hand, and he preformed a simple 'lumos' while searching for his shoes in the dark closet. Additionally, he taught himself to Apparate, although he realized that it wouldn't be much use to him once he graduated from Hogwarts. 'If I graduate from Hogwarts.' He had thought to himself at the time, not really knowing what the future had in store for him.

And although he had not tried it yet, apparently his potions abilities had gotten better too.

Unfortunately, Snape had not changed. Once Harry had put his first bottle on the front counter, he heard the delicate crash of breaking metal. He whirled around, the sound all too familiar to him. Snape smirked as he looked at the broken bottle, the potion creating a nasty stain on the cold floor. Harry glared back, sick of the professor's tactics.

"You greasy bastard! You did that on purpose!"

Snape's voice got dangerously soft, "50 points from Gryffindor, Potter, for insulting and accusing a teacher."

"Accusing you? Who else would do that?" He gestured at the broken bottle on the floor and the liquid that was rapidly being absorbed into the cracks of the stone floor.

"Detention, Potter." Snape's eyes were gleaming.

Harry rolled his own eyes and turned to go back to his seat, nonchalantly waving his hand. The broken glass and fluid disappeared. He sat down, aware of the fact that the entire room was staring at him like he had grown a second head.

"A week of detentions, for disrespecting a teacher."

Harry glared back at him. "Fuck you."

"200 points!" The professor thundered, his face a nasty mix of colors; somewhere between yellow and green, patched with red.

"Fuck you." Harry echoed, spurred on by Snape's reaction and getting angrier by the minute. He stood up, knocking his chair to the ground and strode out of the room, the anger so thick that it could be cut by a knife.