By the time Wednesday evening came around, Harry didn't think he had ever been more nervous. Tonight, Draco was going to find out the truth. Tonight, the odd camaraderie they had forged would be crushed underfoot and thrown away to the wind. And although Draco couldn't tell anyone, Harry couldn't help but feeling terribly apprehensive about the whole process. He didn't want Malfoy to hate him.
He whispered the password to the blank stretch of wall and walked through the common room to Draco's bedroom. He opened the door to find Draco stood bent over the simmering cauldron. He looked up when he saw Harry and ushered him in, his eyes shining.
"Come on, I want to get this done!" he said excitedly. Harry sat down on the bed and bit his lip.
"Remember Draco, you can't tell anyone," he began nervously. Draco shot his an amused glance and held up his hand, the wound still painfully obvious on his palm.
"I can't, even if I did want to," he reminded him. Harry nodded his head, and took a deep breath.
"Then I want you to promise me something,"
Malfoy looked up from where he was prodding the contents of the cauldron and frowned at Harry. He saw the desperate look on his face and sat down on the bed next to him.
"What?" he asked, confused. "What do you want me to promise?"
"That you won't ostracise me," Harry said softly. "Because I know you will."
"Sure," Draco said slowly.
"Please?" Harry whispered, staring down at his injured hand. "I don't want you to hate me because of who my parents were." He looked up at Draco. "You're my friend, aren't you?" he asked.
"Yes," Draco said without hesitation.
"Well, I want you to stay my friend. But I know you won't want to,"
"Look, we'll come to that when we do, OK? Let's just get the potion finished." Draco said, and stood up, offering his hand to Harry. He took it, and felt the surge of magic between their palms as the wounds joined briefly, even through the Slytherin robe Harry still had around his hand.
Draco took a cup full of the potion and motioned to Harry.
"Hold that piece of parchment over the cauldron. I'm going to pour this on, and your parents' names will appear. So might yours, but that's not an issue."
Harry took the piece of parchment, thinking that it was possibly the biggest issue he was facing that night. He closed his eyes and looked away as Draco poured the potion over the outstretched scroll.
Nothing happened. He waited for the explosion – from the potion or Malfoy, he wasn't sure – but it didn't come. All that happened was that the parchment was taken away from him and the door slammed. Harry opened his eyes. Malfoy had left him. He walked over to the door, but found that it was locked. Cursing, he swirled around. The parchment lay on the desk, and he could clearly see the names written on it.
James PotterLily Potter (nee Evans)
Harry James Potter
Swearing again, he sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands.
Damn.
He got off the bed and went into the corner, sitting down and pressing himself up against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest. He didn't move when the door banged open again. Harry buried his face further into his arms and waited for the torrent of insults that would inevitably come issuing out of the Slytherin's mouth.
"Harry?"
Harry's head snapped up at the sound. Draco had said it in such a gentle voice that Harry would have thought it had been someone else. But no, here was Draco Malfoy, crouching down beside him, looking concerned.
"I'm sorry," Harry croaked, and buried his face as far away from Draco as he could.
"So the map wasn't wrong," he mused. "Who else knows?"
"Just Dumbledore," Harry said sadly. "It was Lupin that got me out, but Dumbledore Obliviated him. It's a plan, you see, to make Voldemort think I'm dead," he explained to his arms. "Are we still friends?" he asked shakily, fearing the worst.
"Yes." Malfoy replied after only a moment's hesitation.
"Thank you," Harry whispered. He looked up into Draco's grey eyes. "I'm sorry I deceived you. I just wanted to get to know you." He laughed weakly. "That's what I found so funny in Madam Malkin's. That was the same way I met you first time around, in there. I just found the whole thing so ironic. But then you started acting maturely, which was something I wasn't expecting."
"Thanks," Draco said wryly. He sat down properly opposite Harry.
"Were you being serious?" Harry asked. "When you said you didn't hate you?"
"Yes," Draco said truthfully. "I guess I was just a bit –"
"Jealous?" Harry finished for him with another wry smile, which he returned. "Do you hate me now?"
"No."
"Thank you."
The next major event happened that Friday in Defence Against the Dark Arts.
"Right class, wands out!" Lupin said cheerfully from the front of the class. "We'll be starting today with the Patronus Charm. It's used against Dementors, and can be relatively difficult, but it's not dissimilar to getting rid of a Boggart."
Harry froze. There was only one possible Patronus he would produce, and Lupin would recognise it instantly. He paled as Lupin continued.
"Repeat the incantation after me – Expecto Patronum,"
The class muttered the spell and waved their wands, and Harry couldn't help but notice that all those who had been in the DA managed to produce one first time around. Ron's sheep took a few wobbly steps before falling and disappearing, while Hermione's swan lingered for slightly longer before fading. Harry scanned the room and noticed a large snake materialise before Draco, lasting longer than any of the others. He gazed as the students not in the DA watched incredulously as the Patronuses produced made various noises.
"Aren't you going to try, James?" Lupin said jovially from the front of the classroom. Harry's insides froze over again. He felt ill.
"I feel a bit ill, sir," he said, a bit too quickly. Lupin glanced at him sceptically.
"I'm sure you could try just once, James," he said, frowning. "Everybody else has had a go. Nobody will laugh if you don't produce anything. I'd be impressed if you did,"
"No, it's not that, I just… I feel unwell. Can I go to the Hospital Wing please?" his stomach churned, and he hoped Lupin would release him. He didn't want to have to explain why his Patronus took on the form of James Potter's Animagus form. He shivered at the thought and Lupin walked up beside him.
"I expect it's just a matter of nerves. Come on, just say it. You'll feel better, I promise,"
"NO!" Harry shouted, and buried his head in his hands.
"Mr. Antares…"
"I SAID NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Harry yelled and tore from the classroom, wand still clutched tightly in his hand. He pelted down the corridor and, seeing an empty corridor, threw himself into it and locked the door behind him. He slowly walked over to the teacher's desk and sat at it. Head cradled in his hands.
Damn. His first day back and he'd already blown it. He hoped Dumbledore would understand. Then again, it would be a big blow to the rest of the wizarding world, to discover that their dead Saviour was not so dead. In fact, quite alive and well. And what about Snape? How would he react to knowing he had treated Harry Potter with relative kindness for a week, in his own home. Harry buried his face further into his hands and squeezed his eyes shut. He started as the charm on the door was broken and Lupin walked into the room. He closed the door and locked it again.
"Would you like to explain what all that was about?" he said quietly but firmly. Harry shook his head and buried his head back into his arms. "We can't help you if we don't –"
"I don't need your help!" Harry snapped, raising his head, then turned away. "I… I need to see Dumbledore…" he mumbled, embarrassed.
"I expect you do."
"He's the only one who understands." Harry insisted.
"I could understand, perhaps, if you told me," Lupin suggested. Harry looked him in the eye. Why not? It was going to happen sooner or later. After all, he couldn't keep this a secret for long. He had nearly revealed himself in one day more times than he cared to think about. Besides, he could trust Lupin, surely? After all, he had been his father's and Sirius's best friend. And he was in the Order. He could tell Lupin.
"If I tell you, you must promise not to tell anyone. Not Ron, or Hermione, or McGonagall, not even Dumbledore. And especially not Snape," he looked warily over at Lupin. "Do you promise?"
"I can't guarantee that I won't talk to the Headmaster, but I won't say anything without consulting you first. You have my word."
"OK," Harry took a deep breath. "My name isn't James Antares."
"What is it?" Lupin said with a raised eyebrow. Harry gathered his courage.
"Harry Potter."
The silence that followed was deafening. Harry was aware that he was holding his breath, waiting for Lupin's reaction. He expected confusion, happiness, maybe even understanding.
He hadn't been expecting disgust.
"You are the most hateful person I have ever met," Lupin practically snarled. "How dare you mock Harry Potter? How dare you insinuate things that are beyond belief? Fifty points, Mr. Antares, and detention with me tonight. I will see you at seven o'clock." with that he turned on his heel and started towards the door.
"No!" Harry cried, desperate. "I'm telling the truth!"
"I doubt it," Lupin said coldly.
"Your best friend was Sirius Black. You're a werewolf whose nickname was Moony. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, you made the Marauder's Map. Sirius died over the holidays, he fell through the veil at the Ministry. I have a scar through which Voldemort sends messages. Snape hates me because I remind him of my father. Boggarts turn into Dementors for me. In the third year Sirius bought me a Firebolt."
Lupin had stopped halfway across the room and he turned to eye him with a sneer.
"You could have found out all of that from Hermione or Ron."
"I've been in Snape's Pensieve! I saw Sirius and my father terrorising him. My Patronus takes the form of Prongs –"
"Prove it," Lupin hissed. Harry stared at him blankly before drawing his wand and holding it out before himself. He pictured the photograph of his parent's wedding.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he roared. Prongs erupted before him, and Harry had to say that he had never looked so magnificent. He walked over to Lupin and bowed his head before the werewolf.
"It can't be…" Lupin whispered. Harry suddenly realised he was shaking. He collapsed into a chair and put his head down on the desk, still shivering. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Lupin's face, tears threatening to fall. "Harry?" he breathed. Harry leapt up form the chair and threw his arms around Lupin, crushing the werewolf, who returned the fierce embrace with equal ferocity.
"I'm so sorry!" Harry practically sobbed into his shoulder. Lupin was squeezing the air out of him.
"Why have you been hiding?" he hissed, though purely in concern rather than anger.
"Dumbledore made me. But I only managed one day, not even that, and Ron suspects something so it won't be long before Hermione works it out and now I've gone and broken Dumbledore's promise and…"
"Slow down," Lupin soothed. "We're going to see the Headmaster right now," he said firmly. Harry shook his head.
"I don't want to go to him, I don't want to bother him,"
"I'm sure he won't mind," Lupin said, and pulled away from Harry. He muttered a quick spell and Harry felt the tears dry, his nose unclog and the pressure behind his eyes seep away.
"Thanks," he mumbled.
"Come on," Lupin said comfortingly and lead the way out of the room. Harry shuffled down the corridor behind him and sighed heavily. He followed Lupin into the classroom and walked briskly to the back of the class. He gathered his bag and was swinging it over his shoulder when Ron grabbed his arm.
"What did he say? Where are you going now?"
Feeling he had to make up for his previous mistake, Harry did the best impression of Malfoy he could.
"What I said is none of your business, so kindly keep your overly-large nose out of it. As for where I am going, I am skipping the rest of the class to have afternoon with the crazy old loon who runs the school. I will be sure to bring you back a sherbet lemon. Good day," he sneered, and stalked out of the classroom. He caught Draco's eye and was pleased to see that the Slytherin was suppressing a wide grin. He heard Lupin dismiss the class as he waited outside in the corridor. The Defence teacher came out of the classroom with a half-irritated, half-amused look on his face.
"Ron didn't deserve that, but at least you didn't act like yourself!" he said, shaking his head. "Come on, we'd better get going before the rabble overflows into the corridors.
Feeling extremely pleased with himself, Harry strode down the corridor alongside his teacher.
"I assume you know of James's true identity then?" Dumbledore questioned as soon as they were seated. Harry blinked, shocked that Dumbledore could be so to the point. He had been expecting to be fending off pleasantries and pastries for at least five minutes before actually beginning any conversation.
"Yes, unfortunately," Lupin replied heavily, completely ignorant to the fact that it had been he who had saved Harry in the first place. "We were practising Patronus Charms,"
"Ah," Dumbledore said knowingly. "Well, there is a simple means to stop that occurring again, which I will discuss with Harry after I have spoken with you. But now, I must know that nobody else may find out about this. In fact, I was considering becoming Harry's Secret Keeper in this matter. Obviously, I cannot ask Professor Flitwick to assist me, as he would have to know the matter I was concealing. However, your training should be sufficient to help me." He turned to Harry. "After the spell is performed, you will not be able to tell anyone, even if you had wanted to."
"What about people that already know? Will they not know any more?" Harry asked. Dumbledore twinkled.
"No. They will retain their knowledge. But, of course, nobody else knows, do they?"
"No sir. Of course not," Harry replied promptly. Dumbledore twinkled at him again.
"Jolly good. Come back here then in an hour's time, and I'll get you started on changing your Patronus. I need to perform the Fidelius Charm, and it's probably best if you weren't here."
"Why?" Harry asked quizzically.
"Because it is a long, boring and infinitely tedious task." Dumbledore said in a tone that brooked no argument. "I shall see you in an hour."
The first thing Harry did was run down to the Slytherin common room. He yelled the password as he approached the wall and pelted through the gap. The Slytherins were fairly used to seeing him in their common room, but he still received a few hostile glares as he banged on the door to Draco's room.
"Draco! Are you in there?"
"Yes!" he heard the muffled voice from behind the door. Then suddenly the voice changed slightly. "The password's Harry,"
Harry blinked, completely confused.
"Harry," he said to the door.
"Antares, why are you naming the door?" said a cold voice behind him. Harry whirled around to see Zabini glowering at him. Despite having grown four inches, Zabini was still taller than him, and he looked positively evil in the half-light. Harry floundered for an excuse when he heard Malfoy's voice again.
"In Parseltongue, you idiot!" he cried exasperatedly.
"Oops," Harry said sheepishly. He glanced at the Slytherin crest on Zabini's robes and hissed, "Harry,"
With a clank, the door unlocked and swung open. Harry backed into the room, still keeping an eye on Zabini, who was glaring at him mistrustfully, and slammed the door in his face.
"Lock it with 'Potter'" Draco said. Harry did, and looked around. Draco wasn't there.
"Draco?" he asked warily. The blond head popped out of the bathroom door. His slender shoulders were bare, and Harry realised he had probably been taking a bath or something.
"Yes?"
"Finish whatever you're doing, I'll wait,"
"Fine," Draco replied with a shrug, and went back into the bathroom. Harry heard a splash and decided it was a bath.
"Why have you put a password on your door?" he called through, wandering around Draco's room. He had never really got to look around properly.
"Because I might have things in here I don't want other people to see,"
"Why didn't you have one before?"
"The whole Parselmouth thing kind of inspired me. I mean, someone could just make the door reveal its password. But if it were in Parseltongue, they would just hear a load of hissing. Only you, the Dark Lord and I could understand it."
"Plus anyone who had taken the Lingua Potion." Harry corrected, peering at what looked like one of those spheres with cottages in that you shake and it snows – only it seemed to be snowing permanently, and instead of a cottage, there was a tiny, blue-haired nymph preening in a pool of water.
"Yes, that too." Draco admitted, and Harry heard another soft splash. "Damn it." He heard softly. Harry frowned.
"You all right?" he asked. Draco sighed.
"I forgot the shampoo,"
Harry snorted.
"What's funny?" he asked defensively.
"You and your hair," Harry said derisively.
"I happen to have very fine hair," Draco replied indignantly. "Passed down through generations of Malfoys, we are proud of our luscious blond hair that feels like silk between the fingers…"
"Anyone would think you were gay, the way you go on about your hair," Harry snorted.
"No," Draco corrected. "I would be gay if I were to go on about your hair all the time. Which is something I refrain from doing. And anyway, I wouldn't know which hair to insult, the current one or the previous," he said with an air of indifference.
"Why what's the difference between the two?" Harry asked impishly.
"What you've got at the moment, while the same colour, is longer and less rebellious than the mop which covered your head before,"
"And you've paid that much attention to notice?"
"I did happen to sit directly behind you for every Potions lesson in the second year. It's hard to forget such an atrocity when it's staring you in the face three times a week,"
"It's not that bad!" Harry protested.
"Believe me, it is," Draco said with conviction. "Now, are you going to bring me the shampoo or not?"
"Are you decent?"
"My private parts are suitably concealed beneath thick, ice-white foam. You precious eyes will not suffer if they happen to land on me, I can assure you. Now, come in,"
Harry walked into the bathroom and his mouth dropped open.
"Close your mouth, you're not a fish." Draco said irritably. Harry clenched his jaw tightly and gazed around the bathroom. It was massive – much larger than he'd thought when he'd glimpsed it on Monday – and looked very posh. Very Malfoy-esque. It reminded him strongly of the Prefect's bathroom that he had used in the fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament.
"Like it?" Draco said indifferently. Harry turned to him, and noticed with relief that he was indeed covered with particularly familiar ice-white foam.
"This is like a smaller, albeit nicer, replica of the Prefect's bathroom," he said. Draco cast him a suspicious look.
"How do you know about that? You're not a Prefect," he said. Harry shrugged.
"I used it in the fourth year,"
"Good for you, now, please get me my shampoo," Draco pleaded. Harry laughed
"Where is it?" he asked.
"Under the sink," he said, and pointed to the sink. Harry went over to it. As he ducked beneath the sink he had to admire the silver taps and marble surround to the perfectly white porcelain sink. In fact the whole room was done out in silver, white and marble. He peered into the cupboard, and laughed.
"Which one?" he said. Draco huffed behind him.
"The green bottle on the far left, possibly behind a blue bottle. Actually, bring both." He said. Harry found the bottles and picked them up. He tried to straighten, but forgot his head was in the cupboard and smacked it as he stood. He legs crumpled and he fell backwards, his vision blurred.
"Ow," he said thickly, and dropped the bottles.
"Oh honestly Potter, can't you do anything without causing a scene?" Draco said exasperatedly from the bath. "Close your eyes, I'm getting out." Harry obediently squeezed his eyes shut and lay back on the floor. He heard a splash and two gentle thuds, then a whooshing sound. His head was hurting. He heard gentle splashes as Draco walked over to him and slight thuds as he picked up the bottles. Then he felt Draco sit down beside him.
"Accio!" he called, and then "Sanare,"
"What are you healing?" he mumbled, glad that at least he was still lucid.
"Your head," Draco said firmly. "You cut it open on the sink,"
"Oh. Can you stop the headache? It feels as though someone's let a herd of Hippogriffs lose inside." He complained. He heard another soft spell and the pressure behind his eyes eased up, though he could still feel a gentle throbbing at the back of his head where it had greeted the sink.
"Can I open my eyes?" he asked.
"Yes, if you care for a half-naked me." Draco said brightly. Harry screwed up his face. "Thought not. Give me a second while a get back in," he said. Harry listened as he went back over and got into the bath with another splash. "You can open them now,"
Harry's eyes cracked open and he turned to Draco, who was back in the bath, head laid back to expose the white neck. He looked up when he felt Harry staring.
"You might as well sit down," he said and indicated to a chair in the far corner. Harry went and brought it across. "Now, tell me what you were in such a hurry about,"
"Dumbledore's making himself my Secret Keeper," he explained. "I have to go back up in half an hour, and he'll teach me how to change my Patronus,"
"What's with your Patronus?" Draco asked, and tipped some of the shampoo out onto his hair. "I mean, why did you refuse to show it?"
"It takes the form of my father's animagus. A stag. Lupin would have known straight away."
"A stag? I would have thought it would be something that represented yourself a bit more. Like, for instance, mine's a snake, and I'm Slytherin."
"I don't want a lion for a Patronus," he said flatly. Draco bit his lip as he rubbed the shampoo into his hair.
"We could think of something though. I don't know, maybe a Basilisk?"
Harry pulled a face.
"Like I want reminding of the fact that I have part of Voldemort inside me,"
"Really?" Draco said, interested, and sat up a bit straighter, pausing in his hair ministrations.
"Yeah, part of his powers were transferred to me when he tried to kill me the first time. That's the only reason I'm a Parselmouth."
"Rather fascinating. But come on, think. What do you want to change your Patronus to?"
"I'm not sure. But then, I don't think I really have a choice. I mean, when I first produced one, I wasn't thinking about what I wanted it to look like." He grinned ruefully at Draco. "I was trying to get rid of three very suspicious Dementors that chose to interrupt my Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. Still won though," he added, and was pleased to see Draco blush faintly beneath all the suds on his head.
"That was one of my less cunning plans," Draco muttered. Harry grinned.
"It was rather amusing to see your face,"
"You terrified me!" Draco objected.
"Finally admitting that you're scared of the great Harry Potter?"
"You wish,"
"Go on. Say it."
"Never,"
"Spoilsport,"
"Obnoxious prat,"
"That was uncalled for,"
"But true."
"Then you won't mind if I call you a… what was it? An insufferable, arrogant, selfish, egotistical, pathetic, snivelling –"
He stopped as he was hit in the face with a handful of ice-white foam. Spluttering indignantly, he swore and reached into the tub to grab some then flung it at Draco, who gave him an appraising look as the soap dripped down his face.
"What was the point in that? He asked, amused. Harry stared at him, perplexed. Draco smiled. "I'm having a bath. I'm in the bath. I'm washing my hair. Throwing soap at me is about as effective as pouring a bucket of water into the ocean," he pointed out, and Harry immediately felt very stupid. "But, it also means I feel no qualms about getting you back again!" Draco said happily, and this time Harry was hit with a handful of warm water.
"Oh very mature."
"I aim to annoy," Draco said pleasantly. Harry cocked his head, then stood up suddenly, remembering something he had seen in the cupboard. He was right, it was there. Keeping his back to Draco, he took the jug from the cupboard and filled it up with ice-cold water. Careful to keep it hidden, he turned to Draco and smiled beatifically. The Slytherin was eyeing him warily.
"Potter…"
"Harry," Harry corrected him.
"What are you doing?"
"Retaliating, of course," he said cheerfully, and in a single swift movement brought the jug out from behind his back and flung its contents at Draco. It hit its target, much to Harry's pleasure, and Draco screamed.
"You scream like a girl!" Harry chortled, filling the jug back up again. He turned to Draco and saw that he was shivering from head to… whatever was beneath the foam, soapsuds running down his body from on his head.
"You idiot!" he hissed, accidentally slipping into Parseltongue. "I'll freeze!"
"Perhaps, but you'll live!" Harry replied jovially, and was about to throw the second lot when Draco muttered a spell. He yelped as the entire contents of the bath shot out of its confinements and showered him. Spluttering, and absolutely soaked, he slipped on the water and landed on his backside. He looked up to see Draco standing with a long, dark green towel wrapped around his waist that went down to the floor.
"That's what you get when you mess with a Malfoy," he said triumphantly, and put out a hand to help Harry up. Harry took it, and with a wicked grin, yanked Draco down onto the wet floor with him. Draco landed on his side and swore.
"Ow!" he yelped, and glared at Harry. "Very mature," he imitated. Harry simply grinned at him, then looked at his watch.
"Crap! I'm meant to be at Dumbledore's office in five minutes, and I'm soaked!"
"Well, I would help you there, but I don't think you deserve it," Draco said pompously, and heaved himself up off the ground. He cast a drying spell on the floor, deliberately missing out Harry, who glowered at him.
"You honestly expect me to go see Dumbledore like this," Harry said, disbelieving, and spread his hands to indicate to his soaked Gryffindor robes.
"I refuse to dry you," Malfoy said, thinking, "but I suppose I could lend you some clothes."
"Fine, provided I don't end up looking like some aristocratic snob from the Middle Ages," he said huffily, following Draco out of the bathroom, each footstep producing a loud squelch. He watched as Draco rifled through his wardrobe, eventually pulling out a long robe not dissimilar to Ron's old dress robes, only in dark green, edged with silver. There were silver serpents around the neck, and it tied with what looked like a green, braided rope curtain tie. He also produced a pair of heeled, pointy black boots.
"Will these do?" he asked innocently. Harry stared at him.
"I seriously hope you're joking," he said slowly. Draco burst out laughing.
"Of course I am, you idiot!" he laughed and stuffed the robes back into the wardrobe. He threw a pair of jeans at Harry and opened a drawer to yank out a faded green T-shirt. Harry stared at them.
"I would never have imagined you in jeans, Draco," he said honestly, earning himself a sharp glance.
"You don't really think that I walk around wearing stuff like that all the time, do you? They're Malfoy dress robes, and I only wear them when necessary. Now get changed quickly."
Draco went back into the bathroom and Harry began taking off his robes. It normally wasn't a problem, but being wetter than a fish's wet bits, they were rather difficult to get off. He struggled for a few moments before sighing.
"Draco, will you help me get my robes off please?" he said finally, and immediately regretted it when Draco came back out in a dark green dressing gown and grinning from ear to ear.
"Well, I never knew your bread was buttered that way…"
"Draco! Just cast a goddamn spell, they're too wet and heavy for me to get off!" Harry cried exasperatedly. Still grinning, Draco flicked his wand and Harry's robes flew off to land in a heap on the floor. He went back into the bathroom. "Thank you!" Harry sighed, in just his boxers, and bent over to pick up the jeans. He yanked them up, and grimaced as he noticed they were a few inches too long. "You have quite long legs," he called through to the bathroom.
"Been watching me?" Draco said, sounding pleased with himself.
"Your jeans are a bit too long for me," Harry replied dryly, to which Draco laughed. Harry shook his head and tugged the T-shirt on over his head. It was about the right size. "I'm still wet, you know," he complained.
"Should have thought about that before you threw freezing cold water at me," Draco said lightly, and Harry smiled ruefully.
"I'll give you them back tomorrow," he called through. "See you later,"
"Have fun with Dumbledore! And tell me tomorrow what your Patronus is!"
"Will do!" Harry called, and unlocked the door, locking it again behind himself. He stopped when he saw every single Slytherin staring at him. He looked down at himself. He was wearing Draco's clothes, he had no shoes, and he was carrying a bundle of sopping wet Gryffindor robes in his arms as well as his school bag. His hand was still bound with Slytherin robes, plus he was dripping water off his hair and his feet were leaving slightly damp patches on the floor. He said the first thing that came to mind, and pointed accusingly at the door.
"He started it!"
OK I know that was random, sorry, but the water-fight just popped into my head an I felt that it needed writing...
Draeconin - the reason why Draco is a bit OOC is explained in... um... chapter 16, I think. You'll just have to wait ;P
reviews are nice...
smokey