In Harry's Shoes
Summary: Draco, in an effort to find out the new location of Azkaban prison, has assumed Harry's identity- but will he manage to trick Harry's friends into telling him what they know?
Disclaimer: All this is the stuff of JK Rowling's invention, not mine. Except the broom cupboard. That's mine.
Thanks to Grace has Victory, for telling me what floor the Gryffindor common room was on.
At first nothing happened. Draco stared numbly at the opaque liquid in the glass, willing it to change. This was his only chance. He couldn't afford to wait another month. If he had failed………….
Draco watched with bated breath as a single bubble broke the surface of the potion, causing the faintest ripple. Draco barely had time to blink before the potion became a mass of foam, bubbling up over the surface of the flask, scalding his fingers, and slowly it's murky darkness began to disperse, lightening to a bright translucent gold.
"Well, Potter," Draco remarked to the unconscious body of the boy beside him. "It looks like I will be needing your glasses after all."
Gingerly Draco detached the spectacles from the boy's slack face, putting them on. They rested uncomfortably on the bridge of his nose, fogging his vision. Perhaps it would have been more prudent to wait until after the transformation to put them on, Draco reflected, but somehow he didn't like the idea of standing in that broom closet alone, and unable to see, even if it was only for a moment.
Draco raised the glass to his lips. It's now or never. Briefly Draco's mind flickered back over all the stories he had heard about failed transformative potions… men who had spent the rest of their days with another man's nose, or eyebrows, or girls spending months covered in cat hair…..
Closing his eyes and gripping Potter's glasses close against his face, Draco took a deep gulp. Surprisingly it tasted good. A little like butterbeer, warming and faintly sweet, but also with a rather strong kick of… something, making Draco wonder if it might have been laced with something not entirely legal. This isn't so bad Draco thought , before doubling over.
His insides lurched violently as though attempting to force an exit through Draco's mouth. A blinding heat shot through him and for a moment Draco was convinced he could feel his skin boiling, as every atom of his pureblooded body seemed to scream out at the indignity of being forced into this half- blood's carcass. This, Draco thought, must be what the Cruciatus curse feels like.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, everything stopped. Warily Draco opened one eye. He was lying on the floor of the broom cupboard and, by a miracle; the glasses were still attached to his face. He raised a hand before his eyes. Harry Potter's hand. Cautiously Draco withdrew a mirror from his pocket. In the dimness of the broom cupboard Harry Potter's face stared back at him, his green eyes wide, before the whole face resolved itself into a most uncharacteristic smirk. He had done it. He had pulled off.
Briskly Draco now set about untying Potter's shoes and putting them on his own feet. He took his wristwatch too- a vulgar muggle contraption- and strapped it to his wrist. If you're going to do a thing, Draco, do it properly.
"Don't worry, father," Draco muttered "I'll get this right."
It was lucky they were about the same height, Draco reflected. He didn't fancy having to remove Potter's clothes in a darkened broom closet. Draco shuddered. It was bad enough having to wear the boy's glasses.
Draco poured the remainder of the potion into a flask which he pocketed. He didn't know how long it would take to get the information he needed from Weasley and Granger, but it might well take more than an hour. With a last satisfied glance in the mirror Draco opened the door and slipped out of the dark broom cupboard.
"Colloportus" he muttered, jabbing his wand at the door. That would have to hold Filch until Draco got back.
And now all he had to do was find the Gryffindor common room. In the first year, when things like that had still seemed amusing, Draco and Crabbe had spent a day spying on the Gryffindor's trying to work out where exactly there common room was hidden. They had never found it but Draco was pretty sure that it was somewhere along the seventh floor. The question was where exactly-
"Hey, Harry!"
A short, mousy haired boy rounded the corner, seeming to literally bounce along the corridor towards him.
"Hello er- Colin?" Draco guessed.
"Dennis" the boy corrected, but he didn't seem put out. "Say, Harry, where are you going?"
"Common room"
"Oh." Said the boy frowning. "Me too. But- why are you going this way?"
Draco considered.
"It's a short cut." He said loftily. "But, I will walk your way, if you wish."
"Gosh, thanks" the boy said earnestly.
To Draco's annoyance the boy continued to jabber endlessly about Harry's latest Quidditch victory, a subject still a little sore with him, so it was with relief that Draco saw the boy finally come to a halt.
"Here we are" The boy sang out. They had arrived in front of a large portrait of an obese woman in a lurid pink dress. Gryffindor's never were known for their taste, Draco thought, eyeing the picture with disgust.
"Well" he snapped at the boy. "Aren't you going to say the password?"
"Oh- I've forgotten it." Dennis said, stricken.
"Well, you'd better remember it then." Draco said testily.
Dennis looked at him in surprise.
"Don't you know it?"
Draco glared at the boy.
"Of course I know it. But I expect you to know it. It's appalling how many of you first years rely on others to-"
"I'm a third year!"
"Exactly. You ought to know the password, it's just sheer laziness. I refuse to do your thinking for you. You'll have to remember it yourself" Rather impressed by his own performance, Draco folded his arms and looked down sternly at the tiny boy.
"He has a point, dear." The portrait interjected and then smiled "I'm sure it'll come to you if you just have a good think, my dear."
The boys face screwed up in a misery of concentration.
"Oh, I ought to know this- that red haired prefect, he was telling me all about it last night. It was a story, you know, about that Slytherin boywith the funny chin and he got turned into a - something- a – Hopping Squirrel? "
The portrait shook her head sympathetically. Dennic screwed up his face, bobbing frantically as he tried to remember.
"A- a jumping jarvey? A flying fox? Oh, wait, I remember- bouncing ferret!"
Draco took a moment to process all this as the portrait swung open. Damn you, Weasley, I'll get you for this. Draco stood on the other side of the portrait door and, taking a moment to consider the rather garish colour scheme, before scanning the room for signs of Potter's two best friends.
"If- if you're not doing anything Harry, would you like to join me for Exploding Snap?" Dennis asked hopefully.
Draco looked down at him for a moment, considering. So my chin is funny, eh?
"No, thank you." He said loudly, his lip curling "It may surprise you but I've actually got better things to do with my time than hang around with a bunch of stupid first years who can't remember their own password." The boy's face fell.
"But – but I'm a third year" he said, his voice wavering.
"Whatever." Draco sneered. A flash of red hair had caught his eye.
"Fine!" the boy's face flushed suddenly with anger. "Fine! You're snooty and horrible and- and I don't like you anyway!" Turning on his heel he ran off into the crowd.
One less member of the Harry Potter fan club clogging up the corridors. Draco grinned at the people near the portrait hole who had turned around to see what the commotion was, before pushing past to cross the common room. As he drew closer Draco realized that the hair belonged not to Weasley but to his sister who was sitting on a sofa with a boy Draco recognized as Dean Thomas.
"Er-" He began, unsure of how to begin. They both looked up.
"Oh- hi, Harry." The girl smiled. Ginny, Draco remembered suddenly. Her name is Ginny.
"Hello." He said "Do you know where Gr- where Hermione and Ron are?"
"I think Ron's in our dormitory." Thomas replied, nodding at the staircase in the corner. "Haven't seen Hermione, though."
"Ron will do." Draco said coldly, thinking of the ferret quip.
"Are you alright?" The Weasley girl was looking at him through narrowed eyes. Draco felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach as though it had suddenly flooded with icy water. She could tell.
"I'm fine." He said, edging away.
"Are you sure? You seem a bit…"
"I said I'm fine" Draco cut across her, a little louder then necessary. "I have to go."
He turned away sharply heading for the staircase Thomas had indicated. He took the stairs two at a time acutely conscious of the girl's eyes still fixed upon his back.
It took Draco three false attempts to find the sixth year's dormitory. Fortunately two were empty and the third contained only the two Creevey brothers huddled on one bed, deep in conversation. Neither looked up as he entered and he shut the door quietly behind him. In the fourth room Draco found Ron Weasley lying on his front on a bed and tapping a pen against an ink smudged roll of parchment
"Three hundred and eleven, three hundred and twelve- oh, hiya, Harry… three hundred and - …blast it I've lost count."
Draco made what he imagined to be a sympathetic face and moved to sit on the bed next to Weasley's. There was a silence as Weasley flipped back to the start of the essay, chuntering away to himself under his breath. Draco leaned back against the headboard wondering how exactly he was going to bring up the subject of Azkaban. Stupid as Weasley was, he might get suspicious if Draco just blurted it out. Yet Draco found himself curiously at a loss as to how to begin a conversation with the Gryffindor. In the Slytherin common room it was a generally accepted rule that one never began by asking what one really wished to know, especially if one had a vested interest in the answer. You began with a neutral subject, drawing the other person into an admission or a concession without appearing to do so. Subtlety that was the thing. But what would interest Weasley?
"Hell! I'm still five hundred words short!" Ron groaned. "Why can't McGonagall measure her essays in inches and feet like everyone else?"
"Why don't you get Granger to help you?"
Ron looked at him bemused.
"Granger?"
"Hermione, I meant."
"Nah, you know what she's like. You must do it yourself, Ron, or you'll never learn." Weasley put on a high falsetto, which actually sounded uncannily like Granger. Draco laughed snidely. Apparently this was a mistake.
"You alright, mate?" said Weasley, a look of concern spreading across his freckled face.
"Yes," Draco said alarmed
"You sure- it's not one of your- you know- headaches, is it?"
"No."
Weasley looked unconvinced, but after a moment returned to his scribbling. The dormitory was once again filled with the sound of Weasley's scratching pen. Desperately Draco's mind flicked back over his past conversations with his peers. With Crabbe and Goyle of course subtlety was rarely necessary, and if it was food was the most efficient lead- in. Nott was interested in talking about bloodlines and debating the finer points of wizarding history, Montague was soon drawn in by Quidditch chat but, after the latest game, Draco didn't think he could bear to discuss Slytherins latest failure with a Gryffindor team member, Zabini-
A smile spread slowly over Draco's face. He knew what Blaise was interested in. A topic, that was surely universal among adolescent males everywhere.
"Hey Ron."
"Yeah." Ron looked up.
"What about that Parvati, eh?"
"What about her?"
Good point. Draco wracked his brains trying to remember exactly what it was Zabini had been saying about her last night in the common room.
"Nice legs." He said eventually.
Ron gave him a very odd look.
"What are you on about?"
Merlin. Where these Gryffindor's really so pure- minded they never thought about girls? Or was it just Patil they didn't think about? Draco wracked his brains trying to think what girl would be more appropriate. Who did Potter like? And then it hit him. Of course.
"Hermione Granger." He said quietly.
"What did you say?"
"They're not as good as Hermione's though." Draco clarified.
This statement seemed to have rather an odd effect on Weasley. Hi whole body seemed to tense with a sudden convulsive movement, and his flushed the same colour as his bed hangings.
"You- you can't talk about Hermione like that!" he gasped.
Draco noted with apprehension that his oversized fists were clenched. Holy Merlin. What Gryffindor taboo had he broken this time?
"Er- why not?" he said, with trepidation.
"Because- because...well, because she's Hermione, and…and" Weasley spluttered "she's -" Suddenly he went, if possible, even redder, his eyes on the floor. "Just don't."
What on earth? Draco wondered, bewildered- and then something clicked.
"Oh, I get it. You fancy Hermione, don't you?"
Weasley jumped up off the bed as though he had been electrified, his foot catching in his ink stained quilt. Draco watched with amusement as the wild- eyed boy struggled to kick the eiderdown free, nearly toppling over in the attempt. Bouncing ferret, hmm? Draco settled back against the bed- head. This was going to be fun.
"I- you- shouldn't say that." Weasley had finished battling with the bedclothes now and was looking at Draco as though he had suddenly morphed into a Blast- Ended Screwt.
"Why not?" It's true, isn't it?" he said adopting a tone of suitably Potter- like innocence
Weasley opened his mouth and then closed it again, then turned abruptly away. Draco spoke softly, leaning forwards.
"Ron, you can tell me."
Weasley glanced back at him then turned away again, speaking in a low voice.
"Yeah. I reckon I do."
Oh, that he had thought to cast a voice recording charm when he entered! But no matter, Draco smiled; this little snippet on information was going to make this next term a lot of fun charm or no charm. But it was time to get to business.
"Well. Now that's settled." He said "What do you think about-"
But Weasley, apparently, wasn't finished.
"It's just I don't know whether I ought to- you know- do anything about it, I mean with Krum and everything, I don't think she'd- do you?"
"What?"
Weasley's face flooded scarlet again. Merlin, Draco thought, that boy really is an eyesore. People that red should not be allowed.
"You know." Ron mumbled.
"Oh. You want to ask her out." Draco said, comprehending.
"No- o. Well, maybe. But then I don't know that I'm- do you think she'd? I mean, she could have anybody."
For a moment Draco wondered if they were talking about the same Hermione Granger.
"I don't know if I'm good enough for her."
Suddenly Draco felt the subject of romance was no longer an amusement. Good enough? She's practically a muggle, the Weasleys are one of the oldest wizarding families around, do the Arithmancy.
"Of course you are" he snapped, before he could stop himself. "Haven't you any pride in yourself? For heaven's sake you're a P-"
Gryffindor tower, Malfoy reminded himself, you're in Gryffindor tower.
"Yes?"
"A- er- pretty good looking fellow" Draco finished feebly.
Ron snorted.
"Anyone tell you Harry. You really are rubbish at compliments."
Can't blame him Draco thought. He cast an eye at Potter's watch. He had wasted fifteen minutes on Weasley's love life and got nowhere.
"Look- er- Ron. I was actually thinking-" Oh, screw subtlety, Draco thought.
"- about the prisoners, you know, in Azkaban."
"Yeah" said Ron, his face suddenly serious.
"I mean, it would be so easy for them to escape, wouldn't it, now the Dementors are gone."
"I guess that's why Dumbledore's set up all those extra enchantments, isn't it?"
Bullseye.
"Oh, yes." He said "But I was wondering if they were quite safe. Perhaps we ought to look them up in the library, you know, check for weak spots…"
"You sound like Hermione." Weasley said, and then suddenly went pink again as though he had just realized what he had said, continuing hastily "I told you we don't know what the enchantments are- that was when mum cast an imperturbable charm on the door, and the Extendable Ears snapped straight backwards. We didn't hear much more."
"What did you hear?" asked Draco breathlessly.
"Well-"
There was a loud thump as the door banged open and Longbottom's round shiny face appeared in the doorway.
"Oh- hi, Harry, hi Ron."
Draco reminded himself that it would look suspicious if Potter hexed his own dorm mate.
"Hi, Neville." Weasley said.
"Hermione's downstairs." He said. "I think she might be looking for you- hey has either of you seen my Transfiguration book?"
"Sorry, mate." Weasley replied. Draco, who could see the edge of a battered "Guide to Transfiguration" peeking out from beneath the bed opposite, kept a resentful silence.
"Should we go down then?" Ron looked at him quizzically.
"Alright then." If Weasley wasn't going to be any help, Granger might be.
They were half way down the spiral staircase when Weasley suddenly stopped dead.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked impatiently.
Weasley turned a panic- stricken face towards him.
"I've just thought- Hermione- "
"What about her?" Weasley's face now wore an expression surprisingly like Crabbe's when he realized that there was a flobberworm attached to his finger.
"I don't know if I should- " he shrugged, his face red again. Draco decided that bouncing ferret or no bouncing ferret, Weasley's love life hadn't been worth the trouble.
"For Pete's sake, Ron, I won't tell her."
"No, right." Weasley still didn't move.
"You have to see her sometime, Weasley. Unless you want to stay in the boy's dormitory for the rest of your life?"
Ron nodded and to Draco's relief began to walk slowly down the staircase again. His eyes were screwed up as if preparing himself for a broomstick crash. With an impatient tut Draco hurried down the stairs ahead of him. The Gryffindor common room was as crowded as ever.
"Harry! Ron! Over here!"
Granger was sitting at a low table a piece of parchment and a quill spread out in front of her. Draco walked over to her, drawing up a chair.
"You'll never guess what happened." Granger's face was positively glowing with suppressed excitement.
"You've found out about the charms guarding Azkaban." Draco said before he could stop himself.
"Malfoy's been kicked off the Quidditch team." Weasley said with equal glee. Draco prevented himself from scowling through sheer willpower.
"Even better." Said Hermione. "I've found a new member for S.P.E.W"
Weasley gave a loud groan, but Draco could see that he was smiling
"Oh no. Who have you blackmailed into it this time?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron, you know I don't blackmail." Granger said with dignity "Luna joined of her own free will."
"Luna? You asked Luna Lovegood to join spew?"
"That's right." Granger said happily.
"I thought you said she only believes things if there's no evidence for them." Ron said slyly.
"Yes- well- that was before." Granger looked flustered
"Oh, so you've changed your mind, then? Now she's into House- Elf rights ,she's telling the truth about these Crumple horned Snicksnacks, or whatever they are..."
"No, of course not. But just because she has some funny ideas-"
"Like giving house- elves freedom when they'd all rather eat Bubotuber pus-"
"Well at least she has a social conscience, unlike some people…"
But Draco's attention was wandering. Looking around the common room he met the frowning gaze of Ginny Weasley, looking at him from across the room. Nervously he took another sip of Polyjuice potion.
"What do you think, Harry?" Granger demanded, looking at him.
"It's great." Said Draco vaguely, trying to ignore the unpleasant wave of heat sweeping through his body "Look, Hermione, Ron and I were just talking, about the enchantments guarding Azkaban. Have you found any more about what's holding them?"
Granger shook her head sadly, her bushy hair flapping.
"I've looked in the library, of course, but I couldn't find a thing. It must be a very powerful charm to extend over such a large area though. I wonder if their anything in the Restricted section."
"Pity Lockhart's not here anymore, isn't it?" Weasley smirked. Granger rolled her eyes, her cheeks slightly pink. Draco had no idea what they were talking about, but decided that the last thing he needed right now was to witness anymore Gryffindor mating rituals.
"I just wish we could be sure what they were." he continued hastily. Weasley and Granger exchanged a glance.
"Look, I know you're worried Harry, but it's not your responsibility." Granger said gently.
"Yeah, like I say, as long as it works, what does it matter how it's done?" Weasley said bracingly
"It might not work." Draco pointed out irritably. Granger had rested a hand on his arm now, her mud- coloured eyes full of concern. Draco resisted the urge to shake the hand off, the brazen little mudblood. But she was speaking and Draco forced himself to pay attention.
"- mustn't worry, they'll never let her escape again."
"She'll stay there to rot." Weasley said vindictively.
"I couldn't believe what she did to Neville." Said Granger softly, the glint of a tear in her eye. "And then- Sirius- her own cousin."
"She's mad." Said Weasley. "Barking. They all are. Don't waste your time thinking about them Harry."
They were both looking at him now and Draco felt strangely unnerved, to have those two sets of eyes looking at him so intently. Not that he wasn't used to being looked at, of course, but not like this. There was something in those eyes that frightened him, some unfamiliar emotion, tender yet implacable. So this is what it's like to be Potter, Draco thought, to see your own reflection in someone else's eyes and know that they would die for you.
Remember why you're here. With an effort he shook Granger's hand away.
"I just want to know-"
The words died on Draco's lips, as his eyes locked on the Portrait hole opposite. It was with the stuffy, sickened sense he had when entering a nightmare, he watched as the portrait hole swung slowly open and a boy with black hair and bare feet stumbled into the room. For a moment no one noticed, and then a couple of people near the portrait hole looked up and Ginny Weasley sprung to her feet.
"Harry?" she said, moving towards him "What-"
Her eyes widened. She looked slowly from Harry standing breathless by the portrait hole, to Draco sitting in the corner with Weasley and Granger. Next to him he heard Granger draw in her breath sharply.
"Someone locked me in a broom cupboard." Harry muttered dazedly, running a hand through his hair. "They took my glasses."
Damn, thought Draco, Damn, damn, damn.
"They left my wand though." Harry continued, his eyes still on the Weasley girl "I managed to unlock the door-"
If you're going to do a thing, Draco, do it properly.
"Where are Ron and Hermione?"
Potter's eyes, screwed up with the effort as he scanned the common room, halting eventually at the table where Draco sat with Potter's friends.
"Ron-" he began, taking a step forwards. And then his eyes met Draco's and he stopped dead in his tracks. By now the whole common room had fallen silent, watching the scene open mouthed.
"But- but" said Weasley speaking for all of them "which one is Harry?"
Harry's gaze turned to his best friend, incredulously.
"I am." He said angrily. "I'm Harry"
"Liar." Said Draco quickly "You're an imposter."
"Perhaps- perhaps they're both Harry" said Granger ventured, her voice rather higher than usual. "Harry, have you been messing about with Time Turners?"
"No." Harry and Draco chorused, indignantly.
"Perhaps" said a small voice from beside them. Draco turned to look. It was Dennis Creevey standing on the marble staircase down from the boy's dormitory, his eyes slightly red, but his small face set in determination.
"Perhaps you should ask them questions- you know- things only Harry would know. That should show you which one was wasn't real."
He looked directly at Draco as he said this and he felt his heart sink. The boy knew, he thought.
"That's not a bad idea, Dennis." Said Hermione, thoughtfully. She turned on Draco like a whiplash.
"What's your favourite colour?"
"Gold." Said Draco promptly, thinking of the potion.
"I dunno- red?" Harry said at the same time.
Hermione turned to Ron.
"What is his favourite colour?"
"No idea" said Weasley. "Never asked." Granger tutted. Ron Weasley was looking at both boys now, his eyes narrowed.
"What's your favourite meal?"
"Shepherds pie and treacle tart." Said Draco quickly. Everyone knew that. Everyone who had been watching Harry like a hawk since first year, trying to get him expelled, that was. Harry looked at him in surprise.
"Yeah, that's it."
"Honestly Ron, anyone could find that out." Complained Granger.
"What's your star sign?" Lavender Brown called out from one of the sofas. For a moment Draco wondered if he hadn't got the Hufflepuff common room by mistake. Didn't they know that Witch Weekly devoted a whole column to famous star signs?
"Leo."
"Er- Leo, I think."
"What's your most treasured possession?"
"Erm- my Firebolt?"
"My friends." Said Draco, in a tone of utmost sincerity, looking at Weasley and Granger. He saw Weasley and Granger exchange a glance whether it was from suspicion, or because they were impressed Draco couldn't tell.
"What's the password to the secret passage to Hogsmeade?" Ron asked.
"Ron you can't ask that. There are first years here." Hermione hissed. Ron shrugged.
"Well, what do you suggest? What does only Harry know- that we can ask him here at any rate-"
"Who opened the Chamber of Secrets?" A voice rang out from the other side of the common room. It was Ginny Weasley and her eyes were fixed mercilessly on him. Beside him he felt Weasley and Granger stiffen, looking at the Weasley girl uneasily.
"I can't answer that." Said Harry slowly, looking back at Ginny. She nodded swallowing.
"Don't you know?" asked Seamus Finnegan skeptically. Harry shrugged, not taking his eyes off the youngest Weasley.
"What does the other Harry say?" asked Parvati Patil, leaning forward intently.
Draco swallowed. It was the Dark Lord. Dumbledore had said so at the end of the second year and Father had confirmed it. But everyone knew that. Could it be there was more to it?
"It was You- Know Who." He said eventually.
Granger peered at him closely.
"How Harry? V-Voldemort didn't even have a body back then."
Good point, thought Draco, how come I never asked that?
"He- possessed someone." He hazarded. Wasn't that what he did in the first year, with Professor Quirrel?
Hermione looked at Weasley, her eyebrows raised.
"Who did he possess?" asked Ginny Weasley and there was a cold glitter in her eyes. She knew he was bluffing, Draco though panicking. Think, think. They couldn't possibly still be in school could they? Quirrel hadn't even survived his possession by the Dark Lord. And who was that teacher who had disappeared so suddenly, with all those unlikely stories of memory loss….?
"Lockhart." He said loudly and clearly. "It was Professor Lockhart."
Beside him Weasley let out a low hiss of breath. Granger took a sharp step backwards.
"You're not Harry." She said simply.
Damn Draco thought again, looking around the common room, his mind racing. He had been exposed and now he was surrounded by enemies. There was only one thing for it. Draco reached for his wand.
"Expelliarmus" Draco's wand went flying- and landed in Dennis Creevey's hands. That little brat.
"Look Harry!" he said "I remembered!"
"Very good." Potter smiled.
Desperately, Draco made a run for it.
"Oh, no you don't" someone shouted, and two freckled hands seized him by the shoulders, forcing him back into his chair. Ron Weasley stood over him, his wand pointing directly at him.
"Restis adligar"
A flail of ropes rose up and bound Draco's arms to the chair.
"Someone go and get Professor McGonagall." Granger said, in the voice she usually reserved for Prefect meetings. One of the fifth year prefects nodded, clambering out of the Portrait hole with speed. Hermione Granger turned on Draco her eyes blazing.
"Who are you?" she hissed. "Why did you trick us into thinking you were Harry?"
"Careful, Hermione." Said Ron. "He could be a Death Eater."
"I don't think he's a Death Eater." Said Potter from behind them. "No Death Eater would be thick enough to leave me with my wand. They'd be tortured into oblivion if they did." Draco felt his cheeks burn with shame. How could he have been so stupid?
"The question is how has he done it?" Potter was eyeing him critically.
"I saw him drinking something from a flask." Ginny Weasley spoke out suddenly. Ron made a lunge at Draco pulling the flask from his pocket. He opened it, spilling some of the thick golden liquid onto the ground.
"Polyjuice potion." Hermione breathed.
Potter nodded slowly.
"So." He said quietly, leaning down to Draco's level and looking him straight in the eyes "Who are you?"
There was a dangerous glint in those bright green eyes.
"Why would I tell you, Potter?" Draco said scathingly.
Granger turned suddenly to Weasley.
"What did he ask you? Do you remember? What did we talk about?"
"I dunno- homework and spew and- "
They both looked at one another identical looks of realization on their faces.
"Azkaban." They chorused.
"Malfoy." Hermione said her cheeks flushed with triumph "you're Draco Malfoy."
Draco shrugged.
"Oh, you are going to be in so much trouble" she crowed "Just wait till McGonagall get hold of you. You'll be expelled for sure."
Draco, who had not thought of that, winced. What would his father say if he left Hogwarts without any N.E.W.Ts? Draco saw Ron Weasley grinning back at Granger, and a ripple of anger coursed through his body.
"Perhaps I will." He said quietly "But I'll reveal a few things first."
"Like what?" Potter spat. Draco felt a cold sense of power flooding him. He might have failed, he might be about to be expelled, but he'd take these smug Gryffindor's down a peg or two first.
"Like the fact that you lot eavesdrop on private meetings using- what were they called? - Extendable Ears. Like a couple of things that Ron Weasley told me about up in his dormitory." Draco looked significantly from Weasley to Granger and back again. Ron Weasley went white.
"You- you wouldn't." he stammered.
"Oh, I would." Draco assured him. "Unless you'd like to let me go that is?"
Ron gave him a disbelieving look.
"No? Very well, then. Everyone, listen up! Ron Weasley f-"
"Silencio"
The words caught in Draco's throat as he found himself gulping like a goldfish. Someone laughed.
"Thanks" said Weasley weakly to Granger, who still had her wand pointed directly at Draco's throat.
"That's alright." She tossed her hair airily. "You know I don't approve of blackmail."
"Except when they really deserve it, of course." Potter said wryly. Granger smiled, blushing.
"That was different."
"Totally different." Said Ron who was smiling now, too.
"You know, Draco, I think I'll have my shoes back now, if you don't mind." Potter said yanking them viciously off Draco's feet. Still grinning Weasley snatched the glasses of Draco's nose, handing them to his friend.
Draco spent the rest of his visit to Gryffindor tower gasping out curses no one could hear.
A/N- for those of Draco fans out there, I can assure you that Draco was not, if fact, expelled. It was considered that this might be a risky move, alienating Snape from the Malfoy clan, and pushing Draco into the arms of the DE's- besides which Dumbledore took pity on him in regards to his family circumstances. Draco was let off with a week's detention. Which he spent feeding dead ferrets to Hagrid's new herd of Hippogriffs. And that's a story all of its own……
As concerns Polyjuice- I have assumed that both the colour and taste of the potion reflect the personality of the person being turned into- Goyle just would taste like cabbage and old socks.