Harry rolled into Defence the next week feeling very much worse for wear. He had spent the weekend training for the first Quidditch match against Hufflepuff. Amazingly, even after his earlier fury at Harry, Ron had still accepted him onto the team and was treating him as fairly as was to be expected. Besides, there wasn't really much to criticise – he flew exactly the same as Harry Potter had done. Even better, in fact – he had the latest edition of Firebolt. There wasn't much to flaw, really.
They still had last year's line-up, with two new additions: Ron was Keeper; the Beaters were Kirke and Sloper, two fifth years; Katie and Alicia were still Chasers, and Ron had employed Dean to take Angelina's place; and Harry – no, James – was Seeker. Admittedly, it wasn't the same as the original – Ron could never match Oliver, and as Wood had said himself, the twins were 'like a pair of human Bludgers themselves'. But on the whole, he surmised, they weren't that bad.
Hopefully, they were better than the Hufflepuffs.
"Today we will be looking at a spell called Incubus. It forces the victim to relive his or her worst nightmares, or memories. The spell alone can cause complete terror, and if left on for long enough it will probably render the victim insane. That is, if they don't kill themselves anyway." Lupin added dryly. The class stared at him as he talked.
"In this way, it is rather similar to the Imperius curse. Can I just see, how many of you can successfully throw off Imperius?"
Harry rose his hand slowly – he was the only one.
"I thought as much." Lupin commented wryly, and Harry was rewarded with a few confused looks. "The point being that you'll find that similar skills are required. It takes intense will and strength of mind to break Imperius – with Incubus, you will find that it takes true control to believe that it is not real, what you are seeing.
"I have been told that in the fourth year, you were subject to the Imperius curse for a demonstration. The Headmaster has decided that you'll be better off knowing what to expect, so he has given me permission to perform this curse on you. If you would like written confirmation, I can provide you with it, should it ease you mind," he offered the class a lop-sided smile. "Now, I appreciate that some of you will have worse memories or nightmares than others. I am going to perform the curse on each one of you, and see if you can successfully throw it off. Should any of you so wish, I will not subject you to it.
"For those of you who are worried, there are symptoms of Incubus obvious to those watching. For example, if the victim is starting to completely fall under the curse, their legs will start shaking. If they fall unconscious, their hair stands on end. If they are, in their mind, thinking of killing themselves, their fingers will curl into fists. You see, if I notice anything like this happening, I will automatically remove the curse and feed you with chocolate."
This caused a laugh among many of the students. Lupin smiled blandly at them.
"I think you'll find that chocolate is a little-known antidote that actually helps relieve the stress of most Dark curses. It's always good to have handy. So then. I'll call each of you up, and we'll see how well you do."
Harry watched as those willing to participate went up to the front. Lupin had them lie down on a bed he conjured before whispering the incantation, "Incubo". They all jerked every now and then as though trying to turn around or get away from something, and as he promised, Lupin immediately removed the curse as soon as they showed any signs of being affected beyond chocolate. They all bolted upright, sweating, the odd one crying, and generally shaking. Lupin would then calm then as much as he could and force Honeydukes finest down their throats.
"Spiders?" Harry asked Ron sympathetically as he returned to his seat. White and shaking.
"Yeah," he shuddered. "When I was five, my brothers transfigured my teddy into a spider. That's what I just saw."
"So what was it like?"
"Well, it was like he said – you relive it. So I saw myself as five years old, with that damn huge spider crawling all over me. It was scary, I'll tell you that now!"
"I wonder what Hermione will see?" he pondered out loud. Ron shrugged.
"Probably a failed piece of homework."
"Draco Malfoy."
Harry sat up a bit straighter as Draco walked up to the front of the class. He walked with the air of one exuding confidence, but as he turned and looked at Harry, the Gryffindor could see that he was anything but confident. His silver eyes were a whirlwind of nervousness and terror. Harry wondered what memory or nightmare could offer such horror.
He saw Draco's body relax as it fell under the curse. After only five seconds, his hair stood on end, his legs started shaking violently and his hands balled up. Harry gasped. None of the others had fallen under this quickly, or so violently, and they had only ever shown one side-effect. Lupin immediately took the curse off.
Only it didn't come off.
Draco started thrashing wildly on the bed. His eyes shot open, searching madly, his veins stark against the pale skin off his face and neck. Then he began to scream. Loud screams, quiet whimpers, some vicious, others almost pleading. The class watched on in horror as Lupin failed to release his form the curse. Harry gaped as Draco started clawing at his eyes, trying to rip them out, because what he was seeing in his mind was too foul to see. Then suddenly he yelled out something that made Harry freeze in his seat.
"Harry Potter must die!"
Lupin stared up at him, along with every other face in the class. Harry glanced nervously around at them all.
"What?" he asked defensively. Lupin glared at him from where he was trying to hold Draco down on the bed.
"That was Parseltongue, James!"
It clicked in Harry's head, and he shot from his desk, running to stand beside Draco. He pressed his hands to Draco's chest and dove into his mind. He felt his own mind make the connection to the Slytherin's, and was shocked to find that the other boy's soul was freezing cold. He braced himself and started speaking in Parseltongue.
"Come back, Draco, break the curse, don't let it take you, just come back, it's not real…" he whispered in Parseltongue, aware in his conscious mind that Draco's struggles were ceasing. Then suddenly Harry felt rather than heard a sharp voice attack his mind.
"Come, Draco. She is dead."
Lucius.
"Draco!" Harry screamed, as he felt Draco slip away from him, and the body beneath his hands stilled. He couldn't feel his heart. He was aware of Lupin shouting instructions to the students, but ignored them. "Draco, break it! It's not real! Come back! COME BACK!"
With a scream and a jolt, Draco threw the curse off. He leapt up on the bed and threw himself into Harry's arms. Harry stared, shocked at the blond head as he shook, clinging onto Harry as though he was the last lifeline on earth. Harry turned to stare at Lupin, who looked confused, terrified, and amazed all at once.
"We need to go see the Headmaster," he said, only just loud enough for Harry to hear. Harry turned and saw that the class was frozen in place. A few were out of their seats, and Harry realised that a couple were missing. The rest were staring at him in pure terror. He glared fiercely at them all, feeling ridiculously protective. He tightened his grip on Draco and looked down at the blond.
He was still shaking, his eyes wide open and staring, face pressed against Harry's chest, and arms wrapped tightly about Harry's waist. He was still gripping a bit tighter than Harry would have liked. He gently prised him off his robes. Draco stared up at him, bewildered.
"We're going to go see Dumbledore." He whispered, and Draco nodded slowly. "Can you stand up?"
Draco hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, flushing a brilliant shade of red and turning his head away from Harry in embarrassment. In response, Harry stuck one arm beneath his knees, another under his back, and hoisted him up against his chest. Blatantly ignoring the stares he was receiving, he shifted Draco against his body, and the Slytherin slung and arm over Harry's shoulders, curling his head into Harry's neck. Without a second glance at the rest of the students, Harry marched out of the door.
"I'm afraid I don't know." Dumbledore said quietly at his desk. Harry was sat on the sofa next to the fireplace, Draco lying curled on his side with the top of his head touching Harry's thigh. Harry had fallen asleep stroking Draco's hair, and had woken to find that Dumbledore and Lupin were still talking. He raised his left hand from where it laid on the armrest and peered at the dial.
"What time is it?" Draco asked in a soft voice, nearly making Harry jump.
"Half twelve." Harry replied. Draco shifted next to him. He was staring into the fire that burned brightly. Harry looked down at him. The dancing flames cast eerie shadows on Draco's face, highlighting the sharp cheekbones and making his blond hair seem golden. The sky outside was dark, despite the hour of day, and the burning fire offered warmth and a strange sense of security.
"We've been here ages,"
"Try to go to sleep,"
Draco rolled onto his back to stare up at Harry.
"You know I can't." He said simply. Harry sighed, his hand still resting on Draco's head. Draco lifted his own hand and took Harry's in it, pulling it down to rest on his chest. "Do you want to know?"
Harry bit his lip, knowing what Draco was talking about.
"Not if you don't want to tell me," he replied, and Draco turned back on his side, gazing into the flames once more, Harry's hand slipping to lay against his head once more. He began twining his fingers into the blond strands again.
"He doesn't know that I know, does he?" he asked quietly. Harry shook his head, then realised he couldn't see.
"No, he doesn't. He doesn't know that anyone else is aware of my secret – as far as he knows, it's just him and Lupin."
"Why don't you tell him?"
"Because I promised I wouldn't tell anyone without his permission."
"Well, you didn't tell me. I found out."
"Do you want him to know?"
"Yes, I suppose."
"Well then I'll tell him."
"Tell who what?" Lupin asked mildly, coming around the back of Harry's chair. Harry blushed and bit his lip. The werewolf sat down in an armchair and shot the two boys an almost amused look.
"I need to speak to the Headmaster."
"What about?" Dumbledore asked, and came to sit in a chair beside Lupin.
"Draco, he…" Harry hesitated. "He knows who I am,"
"Do you remember the talk we had, James?" Dumbledore said gravely. Harry gulped.
"It wasn't him," Draco said quietly from the sofa, and Harry's grip on his hair tightened slightly. "I did a potion, and found out from that. It wasn't his fault."
"Is this true, Harry?"
"Yes sir."
"Then I shall not modify your memory, Mr. Malfoy. However, I am intrigued as to how your relationship managed to remain intact after Mr. Malfoy found out. After all, you used to dislike each other immensely."
"Well, I found out through 'James Antares' what the real Harry Potter is like, when you don't hate him." Draco supplied from the sofa. Harry nodded.
"And I found out that Draco Malfoy can be a good friend, when he tries." He said, peering down to see if he got a reaction. Draco smiled.
"'When I try' being the operative statement, of course." He replied smoothly. Harry grinned.
"May I also enquire as to what happened to your hand?" Dumbledore questioned. Harry unravelled the Slytherin bandage, which surprisingly had remained clean and secure for the past three weeks, and held out his hand to Dumbledore.
It wasn't bleeding any more, and the skin was nearly completely grown back over. However, it was turning into a vivid scar slashed across his hand, like another lightning bolt. Dumbledore touched it with one long finger and Harry yelped, yanking his hand back and cradling it to his chest like a new-born.
"Does that hurt?" Dumbledore asked. Harry nodded.
"I believe Draco has a similar wound," Lupin said from his chair. In response, Draco stuck his hand up. He scar there matched Harry's almost perfectly.
"What did you seal with this magic?" Dumbledore asked, his brow furrowed. Draco and Harry glanced at each other before replying in one voice.
"We can't say."
Lupin snorted into his tea. Dumbledore looked affronted.
"In that case, you may both return to your dormitories. I don't expect you to attend afternoon lessons." He said with a finality that amused Harry no end. He grinned.
"Yes, sir," he said automatically. He stood up and offered a hand to Draco, who took it and hauled himself upright.
"We left our stuff in the classroom," he said bluntly. Lupin smiled.
"I brought them up for you once you were both asleep."
Draco nodded, and went over to he door, where he noticed his and Harry's bags. He picked them both up and glanced over his shoulder at Harry.
"You coming?"
Harry shook himself and walked over, taking his bag from Draco and following him down the revolving staircase to the corridor. They walked in silence down to the dungeons. Fortunately, the rest of the school was having lunch, so they didn't mean very many people – Harry didn't think Draco particularly wanted to be questioned, or even have people look at him funny. As it turned out, the only people they crossed paths with were a group of giggling first year Hufflepuffs who paid them no attention and the Grey Lady of Ravenclaw. It was at the entrance to the dungeons that they met the last person they wanted to see.
"Well, if it isn't Ferret Face and the Slytherin Gryffindor." Ron sneered as he caught sight of them. Harry frowned.
"What are you on about, the 'Slytherin Gryffindor'?" he asked, puzzled.
"That's what the Gryffindors have decided you are. You spend more time down with this slimy git than with your own House. You're practically one of them."
"Is there a point to this declaration, Weasel?" Draco asked in a bored tone. Ron's ears went pink.
"Yes, there is," he snapped, and glared at Harry. "You're off the team, Antares."
"What?" Harry gasped, aghast. "But who're you going to use for Seeker?"
"Ginny, of course. She's way better than you."
Draco's pale eyebrows shot up into his hair.
"I doubt that." He drawled. Ron was positively seething. Hermione came up behind him, a haughty expression on her face that could rival Malfoy's, her hair even more wild than usual.
"Don't waste your breath on them, Ron," she said icily, regarding Draco and Harry with blatant dislike. "They're not worth your time."
"Indeed." Draco said with a curl of his lip. "If what happens when you open your mouth is anything like what happens when you open your Potions ingredients, we'll all be drenched in Bubotuber pus,"
"Why, you little –"
"Leave it, Ron!" Harry said sharply, and glared at Draco. "You can shut up too," he snarled, and with one last look at a disdainful Hermione and a furious Ron, he dragged Draco off down the steps and into the labyrinth that was the dungeons.
Draco collapsed on his bed as soon as they got to his bedroom. Harry locked the door behind himself and glared at Draco's prone figure.
"I wish you wouldn't do that." He growled. Draco raised his head out of the pillows.
"It's second nature. You know, the way it used to be for us. See Potter, insult him. Only now it's see Weasel, insult him. It's just what I associate with him." He sat up and propped himself on his elbows, legs stretched out on the bed. He looked at Harry earnestly, who was standing against the door, arms folded across his chest. "I mean, there must be people who you automatically associate things with. Like Snape. What's the first thing you think of when you see him?"
"Greasy bastard." Harry replied promptly. Draco shrugged.
"And I think 'Potions Master, godfather'. See my point? We both have different instincts. It's the same with Weasel and the Mudblood. Nothing different."
"It is different," Harry complained, but the anger was gone from his voice. He pushed himself off the door and fell into one of the dark green armchairs next to the fire, which immediately burst to life. Harry noticed that there were no lights down here. He looked up and saw a small, circular window in the ceiling – but no light appeared to be coming through it. He peered closer and shrank back into his chair when something moved across it.
"Are we under the lake?" he asked Draco, who chuckled.
"You've only just worked that out?"
"Do you want to know a secret?"
"Well if that wasn't a sudden change of subject, I don't know what is," Draco commented, then got off the bed to sit in the armchair beside Harry. "Yeah, go on then. Tell all."
"I've been in your common room before."
"Yes, I know," Draco said, looking puzzled. "You've been in here at least three times a week since the first day back." He reminded Harry, who grinned.
"No, I mean I've been here before this year. I came here in the second year."
Draco looked outraged.
"When? I mean… how? I don't get it!"
"We thought you might've let slip some clues as to who Slytherin's heir was. In fact, we thought it was you. We took Polyjuice and impersonated Crabbe and Goyle."
"I actually think I might remember that." Draco said thoughtfully. "Was that when I found you outside with Weasel's brother and then showed you that article on Weasel's father?"
"Yes."
"Again, this explains a lot of things." Draco shot him a sideways grin. "Like why you didn't know the password, why you didn't laugh when I showed you the article, and why Crabbe and Goyle turned up again half an hour later with no recollection of what had just happened."
Harry blushed.
"We drugged them. Hermione put a Sleeping Potion in two muffins. We left them where they would eat them, then stole their shoes and stuck them into a cupboard somewhere. I must say, it was intriguing to see exactly what this place was like."
"Meet your expectations?"
"Kind of. All dark and creepy, like a Slytherin."
"I'm guessing your common room's all bright, red and gold every with squashy armchairs around a massive fireplace and paintings of Godric Gryffindor everywhere." Draco grinned.
"Actually, there's only one painting." He glanced at Draco. "Do you want to come see it?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Lion's den," he said to the Fat Lady five minutes later. Draco was right behind him in the Invisibility Cloak, and stepped through the portrait hole as Harry kept the Fat Lady talking long enough. He glanced around the Gryffindor common room, taking in everything. The room was high and fairly large, obviously the whole width of the Tower. It was, as he had predicted, all in red and gold, and as Harry had said, with only one portrait of Gryffindor himself, which hung over the merrily crackling fire. He peered over to the side of the room. There were two spiral staircases going up. He was about to step on one when Harry seized his arm and yanked him backwards.
"That's the girls," he hissed, barely audible.
"So?" Draco asked, bewildered. Harry raised his eyebrows and glanced around the room. There were only a few seventh year boys beside the fire, and they weren't paying Harry any attention.
"Watch," Harry whispered, moving Draco to the side and stepping onto the stairs. He got three steps up before the steps flattened out, becoming a slide that Harry slipped on and immediately shot down, landing with a thump. The seventh years glanced over at him, then went back to whatever they were doing. Harry stood up and brushed off his robes.
"That's a bit weird," Draco observed quietly. Harry nodded, and motioned for Draco to follow him. He walked up the other spiral staircase, stopping at the very top outside a door that said 'Sixth Years', which he pushed open and ushered Draco in. He froze when he saw Ron and Seamus, sat on Ron's bed and talking in hushed tones. They looked up when Harry came in and both sneered.
"What do you want?" Seamus asked bluntly.
"This is my dorm too, you know," Harry replied, slightly uncomfortable. He felt Draco walk past him and begin inspecting the room.
"Don't you have Charms now?" Ron asked suspiciously.
"Dumbledore gave us the day off," Harry explained. Ron sneered at him.
"Why aren't you down in the bottom of the school with your boyfriend then?"
"He's just my friend, Ron," he replied quietly, not wanting to provoke him any more than necessary.
"Whatever. We all saw how you treated him in Defence."
"I would have done the same for you,"
"You picked him up like a child in your arms and cuddled him like a good little boy though – I certainly hope you wouldn't try anything like with me," Ron replied reproachfully. Harry sighed.
"Look Ron, there's nothing like that between us, and even if there were, it wouldn't be your business. I just came to get my broom, then I'm going."
"What do you want your broom for?" Ron asked suspiciously. "You don't have a team to practise for."
"I like to fly for the pleasure of it. It relaxes me,"
"Whatever. Just get it then get out," Seamus snarled, and they continued with their conversation. Harry muttered under his breath as he crossed the room and grabbed his broom from where it lay against the wall. As he passed Neville's bed he felt a hand ghost across his shoulder, alerting him of its presence. He nodded almost imperceptibly and walked back over to the door. Seamus and Ron paused again in their whispering to offer him another glare. Harry raised his eyebrows and held out his hand, fingers splayed.
"Abracadabra!" he said exuberantly, waving his hand. To his immense amusement, the pillows from Seamus's bed flew up and hit them both on their heads. The duvet of Ron's bed flew up behind them and over their heads, and the hangings were yanked shut. After a few moments of silence, an alarmingly purple Ron stuck his head out of the bed, followed by an equally furious Seamus. Harry had to fight to keep his face straight. He spoke again, hoping Draco would play along.
"Hocus Pocus, zing zang spillip!" he cried, and this time Ron's old broom was lifted and repeatedly hit them over the head alternately. Then Ron's trunk shot open and the pillows that had attacked the Gryffindors moments before were shoved in, and the lid was slammed shut.
"What the hell?" Ron burst out, now positively apoplectic. Harry personally was surprised that Draco hadn't been more vindictive. He shrugged, lowered his hand, and swept out of the door with as much grace as he could muster while coming close to snorting with laughter.
He heard the gentle tapping of invisible feet behind him and strode down the spiral staircase, marching across the common room and through the portrait hole. Only when he was sure they weren't being followed did he duck into a hidden corridor through a seemingly solid stretch of wall and burst out laughing. He heard Draco enter after him and the Cloak slid off him. He had a pleased grin plastered on his face. Harry sank to the floor and breathed deeply, chuckling now and then. Draco leant against the opposite wall. Once he was calm enough, Harry spoke.
"Why the hell did you put Ron's broom in his trunk?" he asked, sighing. "It was rather random and mundane." Draco countered the comment with five words.
"Hocus Pocus, zing zang spillip." He said simply. Harry grinned and leaned his head back against the wall. After a while he stood up, his broom clasped in his hand.
"Come on, go get your broom. He'll think something's up if I don't go now. They've got Quidditch practise soon. Besides, he's going to be pissed off at me anyway, I don't want to make things worse."
"I'll see you there in five minutes."
It was a good two hours later when they landed and fell to the floor in a sweaty heap of tangled limbs. Laughing, Draco extricated himself from Harry and stood up.
"Nice catch," he said between laughs. Harry grinned up from where he lay on the floor, one arm thrown over to his face to shield his eyes against the glaring October sunlight, the Golden Snitch firmly in his fist. The silver wings dragged futilely against his fingers in an attempt to escape. He sat up and shook his head.
"Yuck. I'm all sweaty." He complained, plucking at his black T-shirt, which was slick with sweat and sticking to his chest and back. He looked up at Draco, who was in a similar state. "Yuck," he repeated. Draco shot him a mischievous grin.
"First one to my bathroom gets the bath first," he said cheekily and started sprinting up to the castle. Swearing under his breath, Harry shot to his feet and hurtled after him, catching up with him at the steps to the Entrance Hall. They pelted to the dungeon entrance, all elbows and laughs, when a large, supremely bat-like object swooped down upon them.
"Ah, Mr Antares. Running in the corridors. Ten points from Gryffindor."
"Malfoy was running too!" Harry protested. Snape raised an eyebrow and glanced at Draco, who gave him his most innocent look.
"I was just going to get a bath when Antares came chasing me."
Harry's mouth dropped open. Snape turned to him, and Draco grinned behind his back.
"Come to my office, Antares. Mr Malfoy, be on your way."
"Furious but oddly amused, Harry followed Snape down a separate path through the dungeons to his office. It was the same as it had been last year when he had been taking Occlumency lessons. As he glanced around the room, he noticed that there were many newspaper clippings littering the desk. He moved closer to see what they were about, but Snape banished them to a drawer, which slammed shut.
"No snooping, Antares. Sit." He pointed to a spindly chair and Harry sat, waiting whilst Snape disappeared into another room. He returned with two goblets, one of which he handed to Harry. Harry sniffed it, and it smelled of pumpkin juice. He took a gulp then looked up at Snape, who had an oddly feral glint to his eyes. Harry froze, staring terrified at the Potions Master over the rim of the goblet. He slowly lowered it and shifted in his chair.
"What did you put in it?" he asked in a scared whisper. Snape bared his teeth at him.
"Where is Potter?" he barked suddenly. Harry tried to say that he hadn't a clue what the man was on about, but the potion burst to life, the nerve impulses bypassing the part of his brain that controlled the ability to lie. He found himself speaking without meaning to.
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not the Secret Keeper."
"Who is?"
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."
"Dammit!" Snape swore suddenly. "Meddling old fool." He snarled, glaring at Harry. "What can you tell me?"
"I can tell you anything you ask."
"No, no, I meant what can you tell me about Harry Potter?" Snape growled irritably.
"His father was called James Potter. His mother was Lily Potter, nee Evans. He was born in Godric's Hollow on the 31st of July…"
"Enough!" Snape yelled. "This is going nowhere."
"Can I go now, sir?" Harry asked politely. Snape scowled at him.
"Yes. Get out of my sight."
"Yes sir."
"And don't tell anyone about this. Unfortunately I haven't any counter-potion on hand, so I can't take it off you, and I refuse to put up with you in my office for the next two hours. Go amuse yourself playing Exploding Snap or some other mundane game, or whatever it is that you imbecilic Gryffindors do in your spare time."
Harry was debating whether or not that was a question when Snape grabbed him by the shoulders and forcibly shoved him out of the room.
"I have to say, you certainly have a penchant for greeting me in all my varying states of déshabille." Draco looked up from his book to watch Harry as he closed the door and locked it. He stood up and shut the book down on the table. He was wearing black boxers and a dark green shirt that wasn't buttoned up. On his feet was a pair of fluffy pink slippers. Draco noticed Harry staring at them and flicked his ear.
"Not a word about the slippers, understood?"
"Yes, I understand the sentence, but I don't understand the concept." Harry replied automatically, and flushed in embarrassment. Draco lifted an eyebrow in a wonderful impression of Snape.
"What did he feed you?"
"Pumpkin juice."
"What was in the pumpkin juice, imbecile?"
"A truth serum. Not Veritaserum, something else."
"Was he asking about you? As in, Harry Potter?" Draco walked around the bed and collapsed on it, sprawling across the cover like a large, oddly dressed cat.
"Yes. But I didn't tell him anything because I can't, Dumbledore is my secret keeper."
"Excellent. So there are still only four people that know who you are."
"Yes, there are."
"You didn't have to answer that. Go have a bath, you stink."
Harry nodded and walked almost mechanically through to the bathroom. He started filling the bathtub with hot water. Once full, he started to pull his T-shirt off. It stuck to his body and he pulled a ace as it came off. He unbuckled his belt and slipped his jeans down. He was about to remove his boxers when a call from the bedroom interrupted him.
"Door!"
Harry blinked, and looked at the door. It as wide open, and Draco was giving him a look that he couldn't decipher. Blushing, Harry started to close it.
"Sorry." He said. Draco laughed.
"Harry, do you like Weasel?"
Harry paused in shutting the door and looked at him.
"Not at the moment, no."
"Do you like Granger?"
"Again, at the moment she's being a bit off."
"Do you fancy her?"
"No."
"Have you ever fancied her?"
"No."
"Have you ever fancied Weasel?"
"What the hell? NO!"
Draco shrugged.
"Just wondered. Now get in your damned bath, you're making the room smell."
Harry obeyed immediately, wondering vaguely if the truth serum had contained an element of something, perhaps a form of Imperius or suchlike in a potion. He closed the door and walked over to the bath, slipping off his boxers and putting his clothes in a neat pile on the counter on the other side of the room. He slipped into the bath and sighed happily, relaxing and letting the magical water do its work, soothing his stressed muscles and cleansing his body. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the edge of the bath, soon falling asleep.
Look out, possessedness in the next chapter... yeah, I lied about not updating. But I can assure you that it won't be at all frequent for a while.
Yeah sorry about the typos... that's my beta's job...
Reviews are nice. I like them very much.