Standard disclaimers apply. I own nothing, no money being made...all that jazz. Read, enjoy, review.

Having skipped dinner in favor of checking on the antidote, Draco walked down the empty dungeon corridor. Everyone else was in the Great Hall so he felt no need to rush or be particularly paranoid about being caught. Even if he did run into someone, it would only be a teacher and he could just say he was looking for Snape. Teachers were very easy to lie to.

As he approached the cove with the simmering potion, Draco felt very satisfied to see that it was a deep green. Testing it's consistency, he was also glad to note how nicely it was thickening.

Draco spent the last hour before he had to head to Dumbledore's office sitting against the wall with his Transfiguration book open on his lap. Though he was staring at it intently, he'd long since stopped reading. Instead, his mind was racing with thoughts about the looming meeting. When his watch beeped to signal seven o' clock, Draco closed the book and stood up, a solid plan formed and ready to be put into action.

The walk to the upper halls went quickly enough and with no sign of Snape. The last thing he wanted was to see him and get a reminder about the lesson. Then he would have no excuse for running over in meeting with Dumbledore. When he got to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office, he said the password and started up the winding stairs. At the top, he hesitated only a moment before knocking firmly on the door.

"Yes?"

"Professor Dumbledore, it's me. Harry," he called.

The door opened. "Come in. Have a seat."

Sitting in the now-familiar chair, Draco cleared his mind and concentrated on his plan of attack. He'd picked several specific topics that he was sure Dumbledore could ramble about for hours. Let the old man do the talking and I'll just nod like he's saying things I've needed to hear all my life.

"You said I could come up if I needed to talk. I wanted to take you up on that."

Smiling kindly, Dumbledore said, "What seems to be on your mind?"

"The dream I had yesterday."

"Yes?" His tone was patient, not coaxing or eager.

"I saw him die. My father." Draco paused, breathing deeply for effect. When he let out the breath, he was more than a little surprised at how shaky it was.

"Are you sure it was a vision and not just a dream of what your subconscious remembers?"

"I was inside his head. It was me. I killed him," he explained softly.

"Voldemort killed him," Dumbledore replied evenly. "You had nothing to do with it. He died protecting you. He made a conscious sacrifice for you. You shouldn't feel bad about that."

"I guess I just feel like I should have been able to do something. I was there in his mind. Why couldn't I change what he was doing?" Feeling frustrated at the patience Dumbledore was showing, Draco tried to make him understand, though he wasn't sure why. It was all a lie anyway. What did it matter if the old man got what he was trying to express?

"It was his memory. You couldn't have changed it no matter how strongly you willed yourself to."

Surprised at the unexpected turn the conversation was taking, Draco pulled himself back a little. He was starting to get a little off the subject. He was Potter having witnessed the memory of his father's death, not Draco, having been at his father's actual murder. "I know. I guess lately I've missed knowing him. Having gotten to know Sirius, I just wonder what Father was like. What it would have been like to have gotten to know him."

Smiling, Dumbledore nodded a little. "Your father was a wonderful man. If you believe nothing else you hear about him, believe that. He was loyal and brave. I have yet to meet a better man than him."

"Do you think I'm like my father? Like Snape says?"

"You are very much like your father. However, not in the way Professor Snape implies. That is a deep grudge that I fear will not be set aside as easily as I'd hoped."

Uh-oh, Draco thought. Let's get away from Snape before he starts thinking Occlumency. Back to Daddy. " Some times it's just weird. I don't feel like I can live up to who he was. Who he would want me to be. Who everyone else expects me to be."

"You do have a large role to fill, but no one can expect you to do it so quickly. Do not feel pressured to the point that you lose yourself in the situation. Yes, there is much expected of you. But that is because you are the only one who can do it," Dumbledore explained. He paused before continuing. "You will never be asked to do anything you can not do."

Recalling his earlier comment to Snape about keeping his head in a jar, Draco smirked a little and shook his head. "I guess sometimes I just feel like the only important part of me is my scar."

"All of you is very important."

This is so pathetic, Draco thought. I feel so stupid, whining like this. I hope Potter appreciates what I'm doing. "I guess so."

"You are still feeling badly about Severus's comment." It wasn't a question. "The two of you view each other in a very similar light."

"Right. How's that?"

"You only see small parts of each other. He sees your scar as a means to accomplish his goals. And you see his Mark as an opposition to yours."

"All Snape does is criticize me--"

"And all you do is criticize him," the man said evenly. "Severus Snape is a lot bigger person than that three-by-five-inch mark on his arm. And you are a lot bigger person than that little mark on your forehead. Some people have a hard time recognizing a whole person when one point about them stands out so strongly." There was a light amusement in his eyes. Quietly, peering over the tops of his glasses, the man said, "It is easy to make that mistake, isn't it?"

He continued, "Both of you are people, with minds and thoughts and hearts. What you do is a reflection of your own good intentions. He believes that being hard on you will help the situation as a whole. And you-- mind, this is only my interpretation of what I have witnessed--have a hard time trusting him. Granted he has given you little reason to do so; however, as I've said before, I have my reasons to trust him and for the moment that will have to be good enough for you."

"There is much to dislike and distrust about people, but some times you must set that aside, especially when you do not have all the facts, and look at their intentions. You will find that through common goals many people you feel most disinclined to get along with will become your strongest allies."

Draco was quiet for a moment, thinking about that. It was sort of the same with his father. He never looked at him as a man. He wasn't a father. He was a Death Eater. All of what Draco saw him as was contained in a small, five-by-three inch mark on his arm. He was never just a man with good intentions. "I never thought of him any other way," Draco muttered, not realizing he'd spoken out loud.

"There is always time to make things right."

"Huh?" Oh, Severus. Father. No, he thought, there is no time. "Yes, you're right."

He must not have sounded very convincing, because Dumbldore's eyes darkened and he folded his hands under his chin again. "There is more you aren't telling me."

Draco opened his mouth, but Dumbledore silenced him.

"I'm not asking you to say any more than you want to, but just know that when you do feel like sharing, I am always here."

"Yes, sir."

Leaning forward, he added, "You are a very special young man. I do not fault you for feeling pressured. You are. But I do fault you for your reaction to that pressure."

Draco looked at the floor. He sure does talk a lot, he thought with annoyance. He'd very much hoped this would go more quickly. He glanced at the Time Globe on Dumbledore's desk. Eight-oh-four. Right about now Severus would be plotting Potter's murder for being late Give him another five minutes to decide he wasn't going to waste his time waiting and go to his rooms to work. After that, Draco was free to end the conversation. Then, if Severus felt like hassling him the next day, he could brush it off with a simple, " Dumbledore kept me late talking."

"Yes, you have missed the beginning of your meeting with Professor Snape," Dumbledore said flatly.

Looking up quickly, Draco just stared at the old man. Did he know all along that was my intention? he wondered.

"Harry, I will excuse this behavior this time because I do have many things I want to talk to you about. You have passed up two hours with Severus for as many hours as I feel the need to keep you. Settle in."

I should have gone to Occlumency and risked being disemboweled, he thought, sinking in his seat.

On the talking went. Much of what Dumbledore had to say would have seemed very profound and relevant, were he Harry Potter. But as he wasn't, half of it made little to no sense, and the other half was pointless to his situation. When Dumbledore's fireplace came to life with a green flash, Draco was grateful for the distraction, until he saw that it was Severus Snape who stepped out of the hearth.

"Albus, I have had all I can--" When he saw Draco sulking in the chair he stopped.

"Ah, Severus. Good to see you. Sorry I didn't send you down a notice, but I had a few things I needed to discuss with Harry. I'm afraid I've kept him later than I should have."

"Quite all right," Snape said, his dark eyes narrowing in Draco direction in a way that told him it wasn't all right at all.

Potter'll catch it next time they meet, Draco mused. But at least I'm off.

"Once again I apologize for the inconvenience," Dumbledore said, "but we were only at the beginning of our discussion."

With dark eyes, the man nodded. "Of course, Professor. I will see you tomorrow night, Potter. Eight o' clock."

"Yes, sir." Pleased at his own cleverness at getting out of the situation, Draco momentarily forgot that he still had to is through more of Dumbledore's pointless talking.

Another hour passed very slowly with Dumbledore asking him questions, him answering the way he thought best, and then the man making comments that he seemed to think were important and well-informed, judging by his many, well-timed pauses.

Finally, just when Draco was sure he would either break down and confess to everything, from being the one to starting the fight in Snape's office to brewing an unauthorized potion under more than inadequate circumstances, Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, "Only one last piece of business to discuss with you, Harry, then you can be off."

Thank Merlin, Draco thought, looking at the old man dully with tired eyes. "Yes, sir?"

"You seem to have something else on your mind besides Professor Snape or Voldemort. Would you like to discuss anything with me?" Peering at him wisely from over the rims of his gold-framed, half-moon spectacles, Dumbledore looked very much like he thought he was being lied to.

He can't know, Draco assured himself. "What would I have on my mind besides them?"

"You have gone to great lengths to keep yourself from Occlumency, and to separate yourself from those who know you best. That is usually the behavior of a person with something to hide."

"If you're talking about Hermione and Weasley, it's nothing too much against them. I've just felt like being by myself lately and they don't seem to appreciate that fact. Wouldn't you lose your patience with them after a while?"

Thinking, Dumbledore smiled slowly, nodding a little. "Yes, I suppose if I were sixteen, I would."

"Was that all?"

"Yes, Harry. Good night. And I want to hear a glowing report from Severus about you tomorrow night."

Glowing? He might be glowing if Potter slit his wrists, Draco mused. Instead of saying this out loud, however, he merely nodded and stood up. He half expected Dumbledore to call him back when he got to the door, but he didn't. A long trek through the empty halls and up darkened staircases later, Draco was back in Gryffindor tower with several things to think about. Sure, most of what Dumbledore had said was rubbish. But there were a few pieces of advice mixed in the mess that stood out to him.

No one can expect more of you than you expect of yourself. If they do, there will be an unhappy balance that will throw off several aspects of your life.

How true, he thought, pulling his robes off and fishing in Harry's drawer for a set of pajamas. Thinking of his father, Draco mused over the differences in their expectations. Well then, he told himself once he'd determined that he didn't care very much about his father's plans for him, at least I don’t have to explain anything to him. p>Draco crawled into bed and pulled the blankets tightly around him, closing his eyes and drifting into a light sleep. As much as he didn't want to sleep, there was no getting around how tired he was. Besides, now that he understood the dream-scar thing a little better (having heard many things he was sure he shouldn't have in his conversation with Dumbledore), the prospect of sleep didn't seem quite so intimidating. At least, not while he was awake.

Harry couldn't sleep. It was two in the morning when he woke for the third time. No one had burst into the dorm and dragged him out, professing him to be Harry Potter. The world hadn't ended and there didn't seem to be any random shrieks of terror echoing around the castle. However, Harry wasn't comforted. The very thought of having to wait until breakfast the next morning to see if everything went all right with Draco was pure torture.

After a few minutes, Harry decided a walk would calm his nerves. Without an invisibility cloak though...he mused, sliding out of bed. Snape won't get mad at Draco. I'll just tell him I was going up to the prefects bathroom for a late-night bath because I couldn't sleep. Worst he'll do is tell me to go back to bed.

Tying Draco's bathrobe on, Harry crept down the stairs. He was surprised to realize just how comfortable he was starting to feel in Slytherin's common room. Even in the dark he knew where the chairs were and he knew when to step extra high to get over the edge of the rug.

Being comfortable in Slytherin's dorm area wasn't exactly the best thing in the world, though.

Walking out through the stone archway, Harry debated on where he should go. There were several passages off the dungeons which he'd never been down. There were also all the old, familiar stomping grounds. The kitchens...

Without his invisibility cloak, everything seemed so far away and the risk of actually being seen seemed too great. Having wandered up as far as the stairs, he turned back. As he stopped by the common room entrance, the potion suddenly prickled the back of his mind. How was it doing? Was it even still there?

Harry slipped down the hall and into the cove where his cauldron simmered away. It looked very much like it was boiling itself dry...Maybe it needs to be mixed up, he thought. Thoughts of what happened if you stirred a potion when you shouldn't ran through his head, chased by thoughts of what happened to a potion if it dried up over a flame.

Draco knew what he was doing. But what if he'd needed to come back and add something and Dumbledore held him over? What if it was ruined?!

"What are you doing?"

Harry jumped, looking behind him. There, in the shadowy corridor, was Professor Severus Snape, looking none to happy. "I was just..." Oh no.

"What is that?"

What is it? What is it? Umm... "A sleeping potions. I couldn't sleep."

Snape eyed him suspiciously for a moment.

"I've been having a hard time sleeping for the past few days, actually."

"Why didn't you go to Pomfrey?"

Why didn't I go to Pomfrey... Harry shrugged a little. He couldn't think of a single reason Draco might give. All he could think about was how Draco was going to kill him. Then toss him to Snape. Then McGonagall. Then Dumbledore...

Instead of moving forward to check the potion, Snape just stood where he was, then shook his head. "Ten points from Slytherin for your inconsideration. Now finish that up and go to bed."

"It still needs to simmer for a while. Could I, umm, leave it til morning?"

Aside from looking annoyed, Snape suddenly looked suspicious. "How long has it been simmering already?"

"Only a couple minutes." Harry couldn't remember how long a sleeping potion needed to simmer anyway. He hoped it was a long time, though.

With a sharp glare, Snape said, "If I come down here after lunch and it's still there, I'll be writing your mpther. You know the rules. Did you put flax root in it?"

Harry froze for a second. He didn't know if sleeping potions needed flax root...By the way Snape was glaring, he figured he probably wasn't suppose to. However, Snape always glared like that. But not at Draco! That was the look he reserved for when Harry did something stupid in front of the whole class.

"Flax root, did you say?"

His eyes narrowed darkly. "Don't play stupid with me."

"No," Harry said suddenly. "I didn't put flax root in it. Why would I?" He snorted a short, disdainful Draco laugh. "In a sleeping potion? Really."

"You just make sure flax root doesn't make its way into that cauldron, or you and I will be having a chat with the headmaster."

"Yes, sir."

"Finish up and go to bed."

"Yes, sir."

Not wanting to press his luck, Harry stayed by the cauldron for a few minutes, pretending he was doing something, then went back to the dorm. What if Snape went down to look at it? He'd probably notice real quick that it wasn't a sleeping potion at all.

If he'd had trouble sleeping before, it was nothing to the difficulty he was having now.

Morning came slowly, but as soon as it did come, Harry was out of bed and dressed. Not wasting any time, he checked that the potion was still where it should be (which it was) and headed up to the Great Hall for breakfast. He wasn't sure when Draco would get there, but they needed to talk.

An hour went by before the main body of students finally made its way in to eat. Draco and Ginny, chatting with Neville, were toward the last ones in. What is he doing with Neville? Harry wondered. Somehow, sharing a laugh with the blundering boy seemed a stretch for him to be trying to stay in character.

Having the chance to see how miserable Ron and Hermione looked from outside the situation, Harry began to rethink how he'd treated them over summer holidays. Sure, he had a lot going on in his life, but so did they. They were in this too. Stabbing at his food, he vowed that if he ever got back to his own body, the first thing he'd do would be apologize to his friends.

As the meal went on, no matter how hard he tried, Harry couldn't get Draco's attention. And with Snape peering down at him, he didn't dare actually walk over, even under the guise of bullying. Snape obviously seemed to think something was odd with Draco anyway. Settling to his food, Harry hoped morning classes would go by very quickly.

Draco peeked around the corner to make sure the coast was clear. It was almost twelve-thirty and there shouldn't have been anyone in the dungeon hallways. Snape had a class until one, as did everyone else. When he got down to the cove, Draco looked at the potion. It was thick and dark green, like lumpy gray that had gone bad a very long time ago. Perfect.

After about ten minutes, Draco was pacing back and forth, looking at his watch every few seconds. If Potter was late...

"Draco. I don't think I'll ever be this glad to see you again."

Smirking, he turned to the boy. "Same here. So, debriefing. You start."

Sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, Harry thought for a moment. He looked tired and pasty. There were slight bags under his eyes and he seemed very troubled. "First of all, we have take that potion at exactly one and get out of here before Snape comes."

"Snape? Why would he come down here?"

"He, umm, sort of found the potion last night."

"What?!" Draco wasn't sure if he should be more scared or angry.

"It's fine. For the moment. He didn't look at it, that I know of. I told him it was a sleeping potion I was putting together for myself. He seemed to get really annoyed when I asked if I could let it sit til morning. Then he started asking me about flax root. I don't know what he was trying to get at."

Groaning, Draco leaned heavily against the wall and sank to the floor. "For your information, Potter," he sneered, "the longer you leave a sleeping potion to simmer, the stronger it gets. Adding flax root to a long- simmer sleeping potion turns it into an illegal potion."

"Why would he think you were brewing illegal potions?" Harry asked slyly.

Looking down, Draco said, "I got in a bit of trouble in second year with it. Flint talked me into--Why am I telling you this?"

Harry shrugged.

"What else?"

"Crabbe and Goyle are over Millicent and they're back to spending time with you. Pansy Parkinson probably hates you, and will hate you forever. I was pretty nasty to her. Like I said, Snape thinks you may be brewing illegal potions, and that's about it. Oh, you sprained your wrist yesterday, too. Just incase you wanted to rewrap your arm and make a fuss about it."

"Shut up, Potter."

"You shut up. What happened to you?"

Draco thought for a second. If he told Harry about the conversation with Dumbledore, that would be very bad for him. He'd definitely heard more than he should. Granted he didn't understand half of it... "Well, Granger hates you. Weasley's pretty mad too. The only people talking to you right now are Ginny and Longbottom, actually."

"What were you doing being so chummy with Neville this morning, anyway?"

"What? Do you hate him, too?"

"No. I just didn't think you'd be nice to him, is all."

Draco shook his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry. You underestimate my genius." Actually, it had been Ginny who invited him to sit with them at breakfast when they found him blubbering about something in the corner of the common room. "But anyway, you never turned in your organic transfer paper. I'm sort of not speaking to McGonagall, the werewolf, or anyone else besides Dumbledore and Ginny. You promised to be a good boy about your lessons with Snape, and you had a nice, long heart-to-heart with Dumbledore last night."

"What did you guys talk about?"

"Nothing too important. He said a lot of things I didn't understand, I whined about general stuff, and we called it a night."

Narrowing his eyes at Draco, Harry asked, "Did he say anything you did understand?"

"Nothing that sounded very important to me. Let me see...I think that's it that I haven't told you about already." There was no need to mention the few small details about his shared moment with Granger. If it happened to come up that Harry kissed her on the cheek, fine. If not, even better.

"If that's all, we only have--" Harry checked his watch, "--five minutes."

The two boys sat, leaning against the wall opposite each other, in silence. The bubbling of the cauldron, the ticking of his watch... There was the distinct sound of rustling papers from down the hall, as if Snape's class was packing up there things.

"Almost time." Draco moved next to the cauldron and ladled out two serving of the potion. "All right. All we have to do is drink these, at the same time. Three more minutes."

"We don't have to put anything else in them?" Harry asked, eyeing the thick liquid.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. I mean, how does it know who we want to turn into?"

"There's a bit of hinky punk hair in the brew. Hinky punk hair is used in very few potions, so it's universal in connection signatures. It only works if the hair in each dose of potion is from the same punk, of course. That's why it's all stored separately in little bags instead of mixed in a jar like the beetle eyes or frog spleens."

"Connection signatures?"

"Learned about them a few days ago, Potter. When we did the Switching Solutions. The hinky punks have specific chemical make-ups in their hair. No two are ever alike. Which means that the magic in a potion using punk hair can identify and react with other people who have taken the same potion from the same sample. This is grade one stuff. You really could use Remedial Potions."

Half heartedly, probably agreeing completely that he could do with help in Potion's, Harry said, "Shut up."

Just then, the end of class bell sounded and the noise of students flooding the hallway filled the air.

"Cheers, Potter," Draco said, holding up his glass.

Harry leaned forward and clinked the edge of his glass against Draco's and drank. After two swallows, he said, "This stuff doesn't taste nearly as bad the Pol--as I thought it would."

"I added a taster to it. Mint leaves. They take the bitter flavor out of the beetle eyes and tone down the acid in the snipe grass root."

They each downed the rest of their potions and waited.

"Do you feel different?"

"No. Do you?"

Harry shook his head. "Maybe you did something wrong."

"Right. Maybe you messed with it."

"Why? Because I want to stay this way?" Harry hissed.

"I certainly am not--" Whatever Draco certainly wasn't Harry would never find out. A sudden wave of dizziness struck them both at the same instant and they staggered. Draco felt like he was in an out-of-control floo connection. His head was spinning and he couldn't seem to tell the ground from the ceiling. Leaning forwards, he closed his eyes tightly.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Do it over there," Draco muttered, resting his forehead on his knees in an effort to slow the whirling shadows of the dungeon cove.

Several moments passed before Draco looked back up. For a moment he was surprised to see himself sitting across from him. Then he remembered that that wasn't himself. He was blond. Which meant...

"We're back!" Wincing at how his voice rang in his ears, he leaned forward and poked Harry sharply on the arm. "Hey, you alive?"

"Yeah. Barely," Harry muttered thickly.

Suddenly, sharp footsteps were coming towards them. Draco grabbed the wand out of his pocket and made the cauldron, potions kit, book, and glasses disappear.

Stopping in the entrance way, Snape seemed more than a little surprised to see Harry Potter on the floor, his head between his knees, while Draco sat across from him, looking equally as ill, his wand drawn. He asked in a cool voice, "Fighting, were you? That will be ten points from Gryffindor and a detention. I'll let you know when it is tonight, Potter."

"Yes, sir," was all he could say as he tried to climb to his feet.

Draco tried to maintain more of his composure than Harry was by moving more carefully, but he was sure he looked just as bad off.

"Do you need to go to the infirmary?"

"No, sir," Draco said. "I think I just need to lie down for a while." Any elation at being back in his own body was dulled by the ache in his brain and the twist in his gut. He hadn't felt that bad since he had to take cough medicine his mother made herself.

There was a dark glint in Snape eyes as he peered down at Draco. "As long as no one's been taking any odd potions."

"No, sir. Well, I haven't. As far as Potter goes, he's probably just stumbling around from another scar thing."

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry said sharply, still leaning on the wall, looking distinctly green around the edges.

Snape still had a suspicious look, but he merely turned dark eyes on Harry. "Potter, I suggest you go to your dorm. Malfoy, my office."

With the relief of sitting in one spot clashing with the dread of being in Snape's office after that little scene, Draco wasn't sure if he should feel good or bad about this particular moment in his life.

Sitting behind his desk, Snape peered across at Draco, his eyes dark. "And how was your potion?"

"The sleeping potion? Fine, thank you, sir." For some reason the room was very hazy. There wasn't a fire in the hearth, nor any fumes from simmering cauldrons. Draco tried very hard not to squint at the man.

Seeming to relax a bit, Snape moved a stack of papers from one corner of his desk to the other, straightening them as he did so. "I received news about your father this morning."

That was not what he'd expected to hear. His insides freezing, Draco shifted in his seat. "Yes, sir?"

"He has been found. Alive."

His brow furrowed. "What? When? Where was he?"

"Those are all things I cannot tell you. Simply let it suffice to know that he has been located."

"By who?" All the anxiety he'd been feeling over the past couple days broke. He wasn't entirely relieved, but the tension his head was eased a bit. "Is he back in prison?"

"That is another question I can't answer." Snape's eyes were blank and cool, distant.

In other words, Draco thought, no. He wasn't found by the Ministry. The Dark Lord didn't really kill him like he threatened. Just tortured him... "Does the Dark Lord torture his followers often?"

Looking a little surprised at the question, Snape thought for a moment before answering. "He is an advocate of strict discipline." The answer was measured and even.

"So, yes." Draco thought about what he'd seen in that dream. For the first time in days, he felt comfortable thinking about it. He knew his father wasn't dead and now he had Severus to listen to him. And then Severus isn't necessarily on the Dark Lord's side...Draco had to physically push that thought away. He wasn't suppose to know that and thinking about it wouldn't do anything. Maybe if he planned on ratting him out, but he had no such intention.

Draco nodded towards Snape's forearm. "Do you ever regret it?"

His long fingers going almost subconsciously to the cuff of his robes, Snape had to think about his answer once again. "Joining the Dark Lord when I did provided me with opportunities I would not have if I hadn't." He paused. When Draco didn't say anything, Snape said, "The times is shortly coming when you will have to choose a side."

"And what makes you think I haven't chosen already?"

"Because I know you, Draco."

"And now you play the recruiting theme, right?"

"No. I simply what you to be aware of what is transpiring. There will be no in-between. No neutral ground. You best decide now what you want, while you have room enough to breathe and look at your options. Making decisions under pressure rarely leads to a good outcome."

Smirking, Draco asked, "And what would you do if I said I wanted to join Dumbledore? I want to be Harry Potter's lackey." He knew he was toeing the line, possibly getting himself into more trouble than he could get himself out of, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to test Severus. How far would Severus go? Was he just a game? Chum up to Malfoy's kid so everyone thinks he really is as evil as he seems? Get himself in with the Death Eaters? Did Severus really care about him and his mother, or was it all an act, like his loyalty to the Dark Lord? Draco suddenly felt a burning need to know.

"I'm sure you will make whatever decision is right for you. I wouldn't pressure you either way. What's right for me may not be right for someone else. And besides, if you ever told me you wanted to be 'Harry Potter's lackey', I'd think you'd gone insane."

Draco smirked. "Right."

"If you have no more questions, you may leave. Oh, but before you go, one thing real quick. If I catch you hexing anyone again, even Potter, you will have a detention."

"Yes, sir." As Draco left the office, he saw Pansy down the hall, her Potions text in her hands. If he thought she looked annoyed or upset, it was nothing to the anger that flashed in her eyes when she turned in his direction and noticed him there. Draco opened his mouth to say hello, but before he could, Pansy shot daggers at him then turned and stormed up the stairs, bumping carelessly into a first year.

He wasn't joking when he said he made her mad, was he? he mused. After a second, Draco smirked to himself and jogged up the steps. Whether it was being back in his body, or the fact that the nausea passed, he wasn't sure, but he was suddenly in a very good mood. The thought of playing up the old Malfoy charm and setting things back to normal with Pansy was very appealing. Besides, there was an unspoken agreement that he would marry her some day. He might as well be on her good side.

Harry made his way shakily up to the Gryffindor common room. He'd never noticed how far away from the dungeons it was. When he got to the portrait of the Fat Lady, he said, "Retrouver."

"You look a bit peaky," the Fat Lady commented.

"Thanks. Can I go in now?" The painting swung forward and Harry climbed into the room. Thankfully, the room was empty. Everyone was still at lunch. Stumbling his way up the stairs, Harry flopped back on his bed, pulling the hangs over enough to block the light. Just a few minutes of lying still. That was all he needed ...

The seconds passed, and the minutes passed. It was at least half and hour before the room stopped spinning. When it did, Harry sat up slowly. When everything stayed where it was suppose to, he stood up and stretched. He was suddenly very aware of his glasses, perched on his nose. After going several days without them, they felt heavy, like when he'd first gotten them.

Assured that he was safe on his feet, Harry left the room, his hands in his pockets. He was very aware of how people were staring. He smiled to himself. Got to get use to that all over again. Oh well. By the time he got down to Hagrid’s hut for Care of Magical Creatures, everyone else was already there.

"Surprised you bothered to make it," Ron said snidely. He was standing close to Hermione.

They must have joined forces against Malfoy, Harry mused. Somehow, he found that more funny than annoying. "Yeah, me too. I wasn't feeling well at all." When neither of them offered anything else, he continued, "Can we, umm, talk after class?"

They both looked at him warily.

"No yelling, no nothing. I just have a few things I need to say to you guys."

They still didn't answer and before Harry could press them, Hagrid came walking up, an oddly shaped blob of ...something dangling from his right hand. "'Afternoon. Today we'll be learnin' about something' very interesting," he boomed.

As much as he could, Harry turned his attention to the lesson.

When they were dismissed, Harry started to walk away with the rest of the students.

"Thought you wanted to talk."

Harry looked back at Ron and Hermione who stood, looking very unforgiving, yet resigned. Well, Hermione looked resigned. Ron looked like he'd probably rather walk away without a word, but he didn't.

"I just wanted to apologize--"

"Again?" Ron snapped.

"Yes, again. I've been a real jerk over the last few days--"

"Months," corrected Hermione stiffly.

"Yeah. Months. But I just want you guys to know that I am sorry. And it won't happen again. Ever. Believe me, I am more sorry than I could ever tell you."

Hermione seemed to be wavering slightly, but Ron wasn't budging. "And what brought this sudden realization?"

"Let's just say I learned something about myself over the passed couple days. I, umm, guess I finally had a chance to step outside myself and really look at what I was doing. Give me another chance?"

Studying him, Hermione said, "I don't know, Harry. I mean--"

"I understand how mad you must be. I don't blame you. Just think about it." After looking at the two of them for a moment, Harry turned and walked away, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He'd tried. He was sincere. Now all he could do was wait.

Draco knew right where to go to find Pansy. Smirking at her predictability, he sighed softly and stopped by the bush. He just looked at Pansy for a moment, her long hair shining in the sunlight as it fell in light waves against her black robes.

"It's pretty out today," he commented softly.

When she turned, there were tears in her eyes. "Go away, Draco," she said.

Ah, you're first mistake, he thought, watching her jerk her head back around so she wasn't looking at him. Never show signs of recognition. Sauntering forward a few steps, he knelt beside her. "You OK?"

"I said leave! I'm not bothering you so don't bother me."

Wonder what happened between her and Harry, he mused. With a slight smirk, Draco leaned over and brushed his lips against her cheek. "I love you, too," he whispered, before standing up and walking back towards the castle.

"Draco?"

He turned back to her.

"You didn't mean what you said the other day?"

Smiling a little at the hopeful expression in her eyes, he shook his head. "I haven't really been myself lately," was all he said.

Smiling her usual smile, Pansy walked over to him and took his hand. "You're lucky you're so cute or I wouldn't forgive you nearly as much as I do."

He draped his arm over her shoulder, taking the heavy Potions text out of her hand, the easy smile still on his lips. After life as Harry Potter, being Draco Malfoy wasn't so bad.

Sighing, Harry sank onto the bench in the Great Hall. The rest of afternoon classes were over and Ron and Hermione still hadn't spoken to him. He'd gotten a few very dark glares from McGonagall; there another situation he figured he should try to fix. Poking at his dinner, he was very surprised when Hermione came up beside him and dropped her bag on the table. Ron was right beside her.

"Hi," he said slowly.

Hermione smiled a little. "Hi."

Ron just sat down on the other side of Harry with a nondescript grunt, but it was good enough for Harry. Grinning, he went back to poking his food. Sure things weren't very easy all the time, but now that he knew his friends would always be there for him, being Harry Potter didn't seem so bad.

END