Harry grumbled his way down to Snape's dungeon the following Saturday night, cursing himself for landing in such a predicament. Not only was he already miserable from lack of sleep throughout the week, he did not want to face an entire evening of cleaning off jars filled with disgusting substances with a person he considered to be one of the foulest on Earth.
'Stupid detention… Stupid Draco. Had to go and lose my temper, didn't I? Ugh… well, I guess I should just get it over with.'
Grudgingly, Harry pushed open the door to Professor Snape's classroom and made his way to the office. He found Draco was already waiting for him, and Snape sitting menacingly behind his desk.
"Well, Potter, hand over your wand and you two can get started. I trust that I shall still find my office in tact tomorrow morning? You wands shall be released from the glass casing as soon as all the bottles are cleaned to what is my predetermined satisfaction. Enjoy yourselves, boys."
Snape began to leave the office when he turned back to find both Harry and Draco glaring at him. As an afterthought, he added,
"Oh, and try not to kill each other, will you? Madam Pomfrey has enough to attend to after the way you two acted out the last time you were in the same room together."
Harry and Draco just glared, and Snape swept away. Tossing Harry a rag, Draco began to clean the topmost jars, leaving the lower ones for Harry.
"This is stupid really. It's not like this requires teamwork. I honestly thought someone of Professor Snape's intelligence could have come up with a better punishment," muttered Draco, to no one in particular.
Harry replied, also to no one in particular, "I can think of very few things that are worse than spending an evening alone in a room with you, Malfoy."
"What was that, Scarhead?"
"Nothing, Draco. Let's just get this over with, all right?"
"Fine by me. …And since when did you start calling me Draco?"
"Since now."
Draco didn't seem to have a comment to Harry's lack of reaction. For a moment, he paused in his work to really look at the boy he had hated for as long as he could remember. Draco stopped, and put down the jar. How long had it been, really? Why did he really hate Harry Potter in the first place?
'Lots of reasons, stupid. Let's not get into it,' he thought to himself, shaking his head and returning back to work.
Harry sighed, and placed his twelfth jar back on its shelf. Why did his head have to start hurting now? Of all times that he could possibly have an episode, why did it have to come on in front of Draco Malfoy? Harry ran his hands over his head, attempting to try and iron out the headache he felt coming on. When that didn't seem to appease it, he took his rag over to the Gargoyle on the wall and ran it under the icy jet of water. Placing it on his forehead, he waited a minute to see if it would help.
"What's your problem, Potter?"
"Nothing, all right? I just have a headache. It happens all the time now, but I've never felt one quite like this."
"Humph," Draco snorted, "I'd have a headache, too, if I had to share a common room with someone like Hermione. I bet she bugs you to study, study, study all the time."
Harry laughed, the cloth covering his eyes making him forget who had just said the last statement.
"Yeah, actually, she does make us study a lot. I suppose it helps out tho—"
He stopped in mid sentence, realizing what he had just agreed to. Removing the cloth, he bore into Malfoy's eyes.
"Where do you get off saying something like that, Malfoy? And since when do you call her anything other than 'Granger' or 'Mudblood'?"
Draco shrugged.
"Well, if you can call me Draco, then I suppose I should be able to call her by her first name."
Harry harrumphed, and attempted to return to cleaning bottles. After a second he stopped, and replaced the cloth.
'Oh no. Please, not now. Make the room stop spinning, please!'
"What the hell is the matter with you, Potter? If you think I'm going to do all this myself you've got another thing coming!"
Harry shook his head, afraid to speak, fearing that if he opened his mouth he would retch all over the bottles and jars he had just cleaned. Removing the cloth from his forehead, he moved shakily to sit down in the only available chair- Snape's desk chair. Draco paused in his work to look at Harry.
"Um, Potter?"
"Hmmm?" mumbled Harry, attempting to will his headache into remission.
"Are you all right? You look like you're going to puke, and I just cleaned all those jars. Why don't you get your arse moving so we can get the hell out of here- I happen to have a date tonight."
Harry groaned.
"Look, Ferret, as fascinating as your personal life may be, I really do not need to hear about which unfortunate witch you're going to be shagging toni—"
Harry stopped in mid word, and retched into the bin on the side of Snape's desk. Draco recoiled- he had been reaching across the desk to punch Harry for his last statement, but the vomit made him decide otherwise.
"FUCK, Potter! What is the matter with you!"
Harry rose, and leaned over the bin once again to retch. Pale, sweating, and shaking he raised his head to look Draco in the eye.
"I can't help it, all right? It just happens from time to time. Voldemort gets pissed and I get to take the pain for it."
Draco flinched horribly at the sound of the Dark Lord's name, and leaned over to smack Harry upside the head.
"Shut UP," he hissed. "Don't speak that name around me."
Harry glared stonily back into Draco's hazel eyes. Concentrating, he found in Draco's mind what he was looking for. Straightening up, he strode across the room till his face was inches from his worst enemy.
"You're afraid."
Draco blinked, clearly not understanding what had just happened. The closest thing he remembered to feeling like that had been—
'Yeserday- when I feel on the twit in the hall.'
"What are you talking about, Scarhead? Afraid of you vomiting on me, maybe, yes! So back off, will you?"
Harry leaned in closer, grabbed Draco around the wrist and poured every ounce of energy he had into searching Draco's mind. His grip around the blonde's wrist began to intensify, and Draco could feel the heat radiating from the raven-haired boy.
"What the fuck are you playing at, Potter? Let go of me!"
Harry's grip loosened, and dropped- although this was no act of his own. Upon his loss of connection with Draco and his conclusion of the mind search, Harry began to shake. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his mouth began to salivate and drool. Draco attempted to back away and tripped on his robes.
"Potter? HARRY! What the hell is the matter with you!" he cried, attempting to slide across the floor from the twitching raven-haired boy.
Harry's green eyes continued to roll, and his limbs continued to shake. His mouth, however, had stopped drooling and he began to speak, in a voice completely unlike his own. Deep, scratchy, chopped and hoarse, the Boy-Who-Lived voiced something Draco could not believe he was hearing.
"Separate the signs to end the war, now are divided, but together once more… Two in the now, and two in the beyond is how it shall be for the world to go on… Bound by a force that no one can break, finding a way for his life to take."
Harry's body convulsed one final, extremely harsh time, and he dropped to the floor in a dead faint. Draco, who had remained on the floor throughout the entire time Harry had been speaking, gazed at the boy's limp form on the stone floor, his jaw nearly hitting the ground. Steadying his breathing, the disheveled blonde boy carefully crawled over to Harry Potter's limp form.
"Potter?" he whispered. "Are you all right?"
Leaning upwards to grab Harry's sopping rag off the Professor's desk, Draco draped it over the raven-haired boy's pale forehead. Despite himself, Draco found that he was slightly concerned. Surprisingly, it wasn't the thought that someone might come down and think that he had done something to Potter to harm him, but the thought that something might seriously be wrong with the boy who was still passed out cold on the stone flooring that was currently occupying his mind.
Several more minutes passed, and Harry began to groan. Opening his eyes he saw a blurred outline of what quite possibly looked like Draco Malfoy leaning over him and mopping his forehead with a cool rag.
'That's impossible. I must have hit my head harder than I thought. There is no way the Draco Malfoy would willingly get this close to me, let alone touch me in a manner that wasn't violent!'
Whoever the person was, they handed Harry his glasses and went behind him to help him sit up.
"Thanks," he muttered. "Where am I?"
Draco's jaw dropped once more. 'Oh shit, now he's gone and gotten himself Amnesia,' he groaned inwardly to himself.
Out loud, he said, "Harry, you fainted. Well, first you said some really wonky shit, but then you passed out. Did you hit your head or something? We're in Snape's office and we're doing detention, remember?"
Harry turned his upper half around to see who was talking.
"Malfoy?" he breathed.
'Oh good. No amnesia. Although, that could be arranged…'
"Um, duh. Who else could look this good?"
Harry grimaced, "What happened, Malfoy? Oh, God, I can't believe I passed out in front of the Amazing Bouncing Ferret."
Draco laughed in spite of himself and the seriousness of the situation.
"Potter, I don't know what happened. One minute you were puking in Snape's bin, and the next your were twitching and talking in a voice that sounded nothing like you!"
Harry's eyes widened, "What do you mean, 'a voice that sounded nothing like me', Draco? How is that possible?"
"Search me. All I know is you said some really wonky shit."
Harry was pacing now. He had no idea what was happening at the present moment, much less what had happened before he had passed out. All he remembered was leaving the common room and coming down to do detention in Snape's dungeon. Racking his brains, Harry attempted to recall the events of the evening. He had entered Snape's office, the Professor had magically encased his and Draco's wands and then he had started cleaning jars. After that, nothing came to mind. Walking over to Draco, he grabbed his wrist.
"Draco, I need to know exactly what happened tonight. Everything I said, word for word."
Almost instantly, Harry felt his grip on Draco's arm heat up, and the memory came flashing back. He had performed Legilimency on Malfoy, and had seen into his memories. All the he had seen in those brief moments of contact came flooding back, and he ripped his hand away from Draco's forearm, still feeling the heat radiating from it.
"Will you cut that out, Potter! Seriously, I don't know what happened! One minute you were retching all over the place, the next you were looking in my eyes and it felt like you were ripping into my head!
"After that you went all rigid and started shaking and then rambling on about 'separating the signs' and being 'in the beyond' and something about 'taking his life'. What the fuck was that all about, Potter?"
Harry blinked, trying to fully grasp what Draco was saying.
"Draco, are you trying to tell me that I made a Prophecy or something?"
"Um, sure. Sounded like it, I guess, not that I would know! I don't take Divination!"
Harry glared at him.
"Oh yeah, Harry, I hear Prophecies being made all the time because I'm rich and a Pureblood. Call it a perk. What the hell are you talking about?"
Harry cradled his head in his hands, attempting to sort out the situation. Realization hit like a stunning spell, and he grabbed Draco by the wrist and attempted to pull him from the dungeon.
"What are you doing, you idiot?" cried Draco, struggling against him.
"We are getting the hell out of here! You need to tell me EXACTLY what I said! Do you have ANY idea how important this is!"
"Um, sure, whatever, but I imagine that it's not as important as both of us getting ANOTHER detention together because we didn't finish this one properly! No offense, Potter, but one night alone with you has been MORE than enough! I don't like spending time with freaks that pass out on me!"
"Ugh! You really are a complete GIT, aren't you, Malfoy? Fine- I'll clean the jars up and then will you promise to come with me?"
Malfoy grinned- it seemed like his night was looking up. "You mean you're going to clean ALL the jars yourself while I sit and watch, and then vanish the vomit in the bin, just so afterward I'll come and try to remember this so-called 'Prophecy' you just spat out?"
"YES!" cried Harry, desperately. "Whatever you want, will you just promise?"
"You got it, Scarhead. Take your time. I could get used to seeing you work while I'm doing nothing."
Draco waltzed over to Snape's desk chair and sat down in it, putting his feet on the desk.
"Knock yourself out, Potter. …Well- not literally. I don't want to deal with that again."
Harry groaned. Focusing his energy inward, he concentrated on the magic within himself.
"Scourgify!" he cried.
"What the hell Potter? Your wand is in the case, remember?"
Harry shrugged, and just pointed at the shelves. Draco sat up, and gazed at the sight that lay before him. Every single jar that the Potions Professor owned was sparkling clean, not to mention each shelf they stood on, the bin was empty of sick and the floors were gleaming as well.
"How in the name of Merlin did you do that?" Draco mused, completely beside himself with disbelief.
Harry shrugged, and refused to comment.
"Why the hell didn't you just do that in the first place?" cried the Slytherin. "We could have been out of here ages ago!"
"Um, earth to Draco? Because none of the Professors really know I can do wandless magic. If they did do you think they would LET me use it in detention? Doubtful. Snape especially would have a fit if he finds this out. So you best just keep your fat mouth shut about it all right?"
Draco nodded. "You've got yourself a deal, Potter. I wouldn't really mind having to do detention with you after this if you could just do it for us."
"How about we just don't get the detention in the first place?"
"Fine by me. Now I suppose you're going to make me keep my end of the bargain, huh?"
"Damn straight. Now follow me."
Harry grabbed both of their wands from the glass case that had magically disappeared upon the completion of the cleaning spell. Tossing Draco his, he made a swift exit from the dungeons and began nearly running up the stairs.
"Um, where are we going?" asked Draco, trotting to keep up with the Gryffindor boy, who was striding quite purposefully up staircases Draco had never even seen before.
"Gryffindor common room, of course."
"WHAT?" cried Draco, stopping dead in his tracks. "No way. Uh-uh. You are NOT taking me to that crazy place. There is no way I'm staying in the same room willingly with Granger AND the Weasel unless I absolutely have to."
Harry grinned slyly. "Ah, but you DO have to, Ferret. You promised. And I'm sure that you noble Pureblood types take promises very seriously, don't you?"
Draco harrumphed, but followed in Harry's wake all the same. Upon reaching the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry whispered the password so Draco wouldn't hear and marched him straight into the common room. Fortunately for the Slytherin it was rather late so the only people that were waiting up were Hermione, Ron and Ginny.
"Harry!" cried Ginny, happily, rushing over to greet him. "How was detention? I hope the Ferret didn't bother you too—"
A cough from behind Harry paused Ginny in her statement. Looking around Harry, she gasped.
"MALFOY? What in the name of Merlin are YOU doing up here?"
"Malfoy's here!" cried Hermione and Ron, rising simultaneously and rushing across the room.
Harry cringed, and his face reddened, but not nearly as much as Draco's.
"Look, something happened in detention, and Draco's the only one that can explain it. Wait here, and I'll go get my Pensieve."
Harry rushed up to the sixth year boys' dormitory, grabbed his Pensieve and rushed back down just in time to see the Slytherin sitting down in his favorite chair by the fire.
"Nope. No way, Draco. That's my chair. Out of it, Ferret. You can sit here."
Draco seemed surprised at the demanding tone the Boy-Who-Lived was carrying, but he obliged all the same and moved to the chair Harry had pointed to.
"Now, do you know how to work a Pensieve?"
Draco nodded, completely in awe that someone like Potter would have such a rare and valuable magical object.
"My father has one," he stated simply.
"Good. This will take less time then. Put the memory in there."
Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Ginny all leaned forward intensely while Draco siphoned off his memory of the detention into the basin. As one, the five students each plunged a hand into the bowl, and were sucked into Draco's memory of earlier that evening.
It didn't take long after they returned from Draco's memory for Harry to send another message to Dumbledore, requesting a meeting as soon as possible. It also didn't take long for Hermione to head to the Library under Harry's invisibility cloak to begin researching "signs" and the like, dragging a yawning Ginny with her. As Hedwig was off hunting, Harry called down his Phoenix to take the message to the Headmaster.
"Is that really a Phoenix?" asked Draco, barely able to hide the fact that he was impressed.
"Yes," affirmed Harry, as he finished up his note.
Draco stood up, and walked gently towards the bird, and she perched on his arm as he stroked her feathers.
"Well well, you are beautiful. I hope Potter's taking good care of you."
She trilled in response, while Ron and Harry just stared. Harry's new pet didn't take to most people, and in fact had the hardest time becoming affectionate towards Ron. Harry could see her watching them both at night, and he sometimes wondered if she almost didn't want to get too attached to Harry's best friend.
"Of course he does!" cried Ron defensively. "She loves Harry, and Hedwig."
Draco raised a finely groomed eyebrow. "I see. So "she" likes the other bird. Has "she" got a name?"
At this, Harry and Ron both turned crimson. Harry sighed, defeated, and admitted that no, his new pet did not have a name yet, because he hadn't seemed to be able to find the perfect one.
Draco smirked, and carried the bird to Harry so she could grab the note. With a soft trill, and a flash of light, she disappeared.
"Quite useful, if you ask me," commented Draco.
Harry and Ron just stared, wondering why the Ferret was sticking around. For as much as he protested about coming to Gryffindor territory, he sure looked comfortable. After a few moments silence, Draco finally noticed that Ron and Harry were staring at him, as if willing him to leave.
"Ah, well. I see my promise is fulfilled. Need I stick around any longer, Potter?"
"No, I suppose not. Remember though- no mention of the wandless magic."
"ESPECIALLY to your cronies," added Ron, rather maliciously.
Draco smirked once again. "No need to worry about that, Weasel king. I rather enjoy having a secret about Potty to hang over his head. …You know, in case I need something."
Ron showed signs of starting forward, looking ready to give Draco another dose of why he had been put in detention in the first place, but with a light touch on the arm from Harry, he desisted. Malfoy raised his head, as if to say "and what were you possibly going to accomplish with that?" then turned toward the portrait hole.
"There'll be no need to worry about me mentioning any of tonight's happenings, Potter. I wouldn't want this to get out any more than you. Although, if you WOULD ever like to serve detention together again, just let me know. I find that your little talent could be quite useful."
"Don't mention it, Malfoy. I'll see you in class on Monday. Remember, we're starting Veritaserum. We'll both need to make sure Snape doesn't slip us any to find out how we got out of detention so fast."
Draco nodded in agreement. "That, and I'm sure he'd be most displeased to find out I spent so much time with the Golden Trio and the Weaslette."
"If you're talking about my sister—" began Ron, heatedly.
Draco raised his hands, as if to push away the animosity stampeding towards him.
"Now now, Weasel, I didn't say anything. If you want my opinion, I respect the little Weaslette. She's got spunk, and I don't know anyone in Slytherin that can bat-bogey quite as well as she can.
"And speaking of other Slytherins," he muttered, "they were right to say that she's filled out quite nicely."
Ron stood there, perplexed, still working through the first part of Draco's statement where he had complimented Ginny's hexing ability, but Harry was quicker.
"I think you've outstayed your welcome, Ferret. Not that you ever really were welcome in the first place."
Draco gave a mock little bow as he backed towards the portrait hole. "Right you are. And if you'd ever like to play some chess, Weasel King, you know where to find me. I've heard rumors, and I'd like to know how true they are. Would you fancy a tournament?"
"If you mean by tournament me kicking your arse in front of both our houses, you're on!" said Ron, excited for the challenge.
"I'll see to it then," grinned Draco. "Besides, I need to spend time with my little first year twit any way. I figured she could watch."
"Are you leaving, or what?" asked Harry, getting impatient.
Draco sighed, "Yes, Potter, I'm going. And yes, Potter, I will remember about the Veritaserum on Monday."
"Good, see you then."
Draco had finally made it to the portrait hole, and just when Harry thought he had been rid of him for the rest of the weekend, he stopped and turned around.
"Oh, Harry? That Phoenix of yours- you might try Sanguine. It means "useful to society" in Greek. Well, it also means blood, but still, it's the life force and is always running- immortal, just like a Phoenix."
Harry blanched. Not only because Draco had used his first name again, but the fact that he had genuinely offered advice. Truth be told, Harry ran the name over his tongue later that night and deemed it perfect.
"Oh. Um, well, thanks, Malfoy."
Draco nodded, and proceeded to step out of the portrait hole. Harry paused, his brain moving a mile a minute, but finally he made up his mind.
"Wait!" he called, and Draco turned around, with a surprisingly pleasant look of curiosity on his pale, pointed face.
Harry ran to his bag, and pulled out a spare bit of parchment. Tapping it with his wand, he whispered 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good'.
"You'll want to avoid the entrance hallway, Filch is running around there with Mrs. Norris. Oh, and Peeves is on the third floor, probably unscrewing that chandelier again. I'd avoid that corridor, too."
Once again, Draco raised an eyebrow, and then nodded.
"Thanks, Potter."
"You're welcome, Draco."
With a soft swish of a finely woven cloak, Draco disappeared, and Harry cleared the map.
Turning to Ron, he asked, "Ready for bed? We'll need all the sleep we can get if Hermione's going to wake us at dawn to look through books she nicked from the restricted section."
"Sure," Ron replied, yawning. "I can't wait to kick Draco's arse at that chess tourney!"
Harry grinned. "I know I'll definitely be there. I bet it will be a lot more fun hearing the 'I am the chess master' song when it's directed at Draco instead of me. I bet Gin will, too."
Ron grinned lopsidedly, and shrugged. As the climbed into their four posters, Harry extinguished the torch with only a wink. Snuggling under his blankets, he smiled at the night's occurrences. All in all, it had preceeded well, and his head was feeling much better.
"Harry?"
"Yeah, Ron?"
"When Malfoy was talking about my sister- saying how the Slytherins noticed she had 'filled out' or something?"
Harry groaned internally. "What about it, mate?"
"Was he talking about how much more confident she's gotten since the Chamber and everything? Like, how her confidence and spellwork has 'filled out'?"
Harry mentally snorted, but smiled and said only, "Yeah, Ron. That's exactly what he meant."
"Oh. Well, that was nice. Oh, bugger. The Ferret said something nice. How odd is that?"
"Very odd, Ron. Just make sure you kick his arse at chess for Gin, ok?"
"You got it, mate. G'night!"