Chapter 5 - Detention

The hospital wing was quiet and glowed golden with the sinking winter sun. The steam rolling off Draco's freshly warmed soup swayed in the beams.

He scowled down at the chicken broth haughtily. If truth be told, he wanted nothing to do with the revolting liquid, but unfortunately for him, Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let him rest until he'd finished the whole damn thing, no matter how many times he threatened to upchuck on her floor.

Stubborn old sow.

Draco scooped up a spoonful and let it dribble back into the bowl with a sigh.

He had fallen into a particularly foul mood ever since Potter and Snape's lovely visit. But so what if he had? So what if his misplaced anger was being taken out on an innocent bowl of broth?

He deserved to wallow after such devastating failure. The perfect situation gone to waste.

His conditions had been met flawlessly. Potter had practically volunteered to duel, Granger and Weasley were the witnesses, and he'd been able to hijack Potter's final 'expeliarmus' with a simple confudus charm as easily as snapping his fingers. He'd admittedly almost crushed Potter with the chandelier, but that was beside the point. He'd successfully taken the fall in the end.

He shuddered as he recalled the pain. Never had he experienced such bone-breaking agony. If he was going to attempt suicide again, he would certainly have to drum up some renewed courage. Or at least find a more humane way to put himself down.

Going through all that without yield was infuriating. And he'd been so close by the sounds of it.

As per Madame Pomfrey his survival had been a damn miracle. Evidently, he'd arrested twice requiring heroic resuscitation measures, blown through a full cauldron of blood replenishing potion, been artificially ventilated for 2 days, and required a total of 5 organs regrown, not to mention several ribs which had been shattered beyond feasible repair. And that was before mentioning his broken limbs. Thankfully, he'd been comatose through the worst of it.

Draco set his spoon aside and pulled his wand from beneath the sheets. With a simple wave, the steaming liquid vanished. He sank back into the pillows with grim satisfaction. His entire life was spiraling, but at least he could still control whether or not he'd finish a damn bowl of soup.

His thoughts drifted idly to his conversation with Potter. He still couldn't believe The Golden Boy had muscled up and thanked him for saving his life. Malfoy snorted as he continued to absently twiddle his wand. Did this mean The Chosen One was indebted to him? That would certainly be a fun detail to loom over Potter's head. It might even come in handy a little ways down the road. Perhaps there was light in the situation after all.

Madam Pomfrey's heels clicked into earshot so Draco quickly hid his wand before she appeared around the screen.

She nodded at the empty bowl. "That wasn't so bad now was it,"

He wrinkled his nose and let her take the tray from his lap before she bombarded him with diagnostic spells.

The healer hummed approvingly once she was through. "Well Mr. Malfoy, your vitals are stable and I haven't heard you cough since finishing the final dose of Lung Regenerating Potion. I suspect that means those new lungs are fully matured. The liver seems to be up and running as well since you haven't become jaundiced yet,"

Draco cradled his midsection protectively. "You're testing the liver by waiting for me to turn yellow? Isn't that a bit reckless?"

"Nonsense. You're healing up perfectly. In fact, if things keep going this smoothly, I wouldn't be surprised if you're well enough to be discharged tomorrow evening or the morning after. It will all depend on how quickly those bones mend, of course. Now that you're stable, I think it's time we set to work on them, wouldn't you agree?" She bustled over to the medicine cabinet and produced a tall bottle carved in the shape of a skeleton.

"If I'm to walk out of here of my own volition I should hope so," Draco said acidly, grimacing down at his broken legs which had been braced and wrapped in the meantime. He would have to keep his guard up once his arm was healed and the cast removed. Snape had scolded him at length over how disastrous it would have been had he not been there to conceal the Dark Mark from view. It was also thanks to Snape that he hadn't been shipped off to St. Mungo's or dragged home by his parents. Draco should really be more grateful to the man, but it was hard to look past the detention he'd been handed. He shouldn't have bothered covering for Potter. He'd only done it in fear that Snape might have the Gryffindor expelled but in reality, the Chosen One was likely untouchable with the senile old Headmaster on his side.

Madam Pomfrey uncorked the Skele-gro and poured a large helping into a crystal goblet.

"Here you are now," She handed him the glass and watched expectantly. He had the strong urge to vanish this liquid just like he had the soup, but he supposed that would only be to his detriment. The first swallow felt like fire on his throat and tasted like a mix of chalk and rust. He coughed and pressed the back of his hand to his lips to keep from gagging.

Madam Pomfrey just tutted at him and topped off the goblet. "I'm afraid it doesn't taste like pumpkin juice, dear. Best get it over with quickly. The whole thing, now. You've got 7 bones to mend so you'll need every last drop,"

He set his jaw resolutely before tossing the whole goblet back.

"It makes sense now why he saved you," Hermione said, "I imagine he's right about the repercussions. The Ministry's been desperate to look productive. I mean, arresting Stand Shunpike has to be the height of desperation. After seeing that, I wouldn't put it past them to arrest Malfoy for harming you, even if he is a school-aged wizard. Being the son of a Death Eater would likely be good enough for them," She ladled a scoop of shepherd's pie for herself and handed the spoon to Ron who shoveled practically half of the serving dish onto his own plate.

The Great Hall sky was spitting snow and darkening with dusk but the tables were illuminated by a thousand glowing candles to make up for it, not to mention the twelve glistening Christmas trees lining the walls. It was only the first of December but Hagrid and probably a hoard of house-elves had already converted the castle into a life-sized Christmas card, tinsel and mistletoe included. Harry had to tread carefully these days with that hanging around. Ever since The Prophet had labeled him "The Chosen One," he was sure there were plenty of girls who would use it to their advantage.

"Hermione's right," Ron said, topping off his mountain-sized portion of food. "Now that you're the Chosen One, I imaging the Ministry would have a bloody cow if anything happened to you. It would have served Malfoy right, though. The idea of him sitting in Azkaban is quite nice, come to think of it,"

"A bit harsh, don't you think?" Harry chuckled and reached over to claim the meager portion of Sheppard's pie Ron had left for him.

"Nah, I reckon he deserves a few nights in a cell," Ron tucked into his food with the gusto of a man who hadn't eaten in days.

Hermione watched him with a mixed look of distaste and amusement before shaking her head, "It's still odd to me that Malfoy lied about bringing down the chandelier. It sounds as though he dug his own grave needlessly,"

Harry shrugged, "Well, Malfoy said he didn't want word spreading that I'd sent him to the hospital wing for a second time this year, which I guess is believable. Malfoy is a bit vain,"

"A bit?" Ron said around a mouthful of potatoes. "He thinks so highly of himself, I'm surprised his head hasn't exploded from all the hot air,"

Harry laughed while Hermione rolled her eyes. "So did you end up confronting him about your suspicion? You know, about being confunded?"

Harry swallowed his bite and gave her a sheepish look, "I forgot to bring it up, honestly"

"I don't blame you, mate. You were probably trying to get out of there as quickly as possible. I know I wouldn't want to prolong a conversation with Malfoy," Ron said sympathetically.

Harry paused as he stared down at his plate, ears heating slightly. He hadn't told Ron or Hermione how decent the whole conversation had been. He wasn't sure what to make of it himself, so best to ignore it for now. Things would likely return to normal the next time he ran into Malfoy, so no need to dwell on the exchange.

"Yeah, must have been it. He's insufferable," Harry cleared his throat, "I did ask him what he's been doing in the Room of Requirement, though. He didn't deny that he's been in there working. He just said he wouldn't tell me what it was,"

"Blimey, you just outright asked him like that and he didn't hex you to Timbuktu?"

Harry snorted. "No he didn't, but then again he wasn't in much of a state to be hexing anyone. He was still rather banged up. I actually tried to have him show me his Dark Mark but he had a cast covering the spot,"

"Oh Harry, isn't what just happened enough to deter you?" Hermione said with pursed lips. "You and Malfoy are like Mentos and Cola. You're bound to get yourself into more trouble if you keep meddling with him. I'm worried it's going to be you who gets hurt next time,"

"Mentos and Cola?" Ron said with a confused frown.

"Muggle stuff," Harry said hastily, "Listen, Hermione, I know you've got my best interest in mind, but I can't ignore this. I know if I do, something really bad is going to happen,"

Ron squirmed in his seat, looking balefully between the two of them. "I wish we could pass a pleasant evening without you two having a row. I'm just trying to enjoy my shepherd's pie in peace,"

"We're not having a row. If you two would just believe me, then this whole Malfoy investigation would be a lot simpler. Doesn't it concern either of you that Snape was offering to help him, or that he's made an Unbreakable Oath to Malfoy's mum?"

"Unbreakable Vow," Ron corrected.

"We believe you, Harry. There's no denying that Malfoy is up to something but the odds of it being for You-Know-Who is so unlikely. And Snape was probably just saying those things to get Malfoy to tell him what he's planning. He is the head of Slytherin House so if Malfoy's doing something that's against the rules, it's up to him to stop it," Hermione said.

"I disagree. I question which side Snape is really on,"

"Don't forget Dumbledore trusts Snape and it isn't our business to question him," She breathed wearily, "Look, all I'm saying is that it's not worth getting tangled up in. You've already earned yourself a terms worth of detention,"

Ron groaned. "Don't remind him, Hermione! Detention with Snape and Malfoy has got to be the worst sentence there could possibly be. Those are the two worst people in the entire school. I think I'd rather be locked in a cage with two fully grown blast-ended skrewts and nothing but a wooden spoon as defense,"

Hermione practically choked on the milk she'd been sipping as she burst with a laugh. Ron looked bewildered for a moment before breaking into a smile, looking exceptionally pleased with himself.

"Oh goodness, Ronald," Hermione said, wiping a tear from her eye, "It won't be that bad I'm sure,"

Harry looked between his two friends bemusedly. Ron continued to grin smugly as Hermione composed herself from the fit of giggles. There was definitely something between them. Harry had wondered if something like this would happen sooner or later. He also wondered if either of them had realized it yet.

He awkwardly lowered his eyes and continued eating as if he'd noticed nothing.

Saturday rushed at Harry too quickly, and soon, he found himself dressing blindly in the curtain-dark dormitory while his fellow Gryffindors slept blissfully on. His detention would begin at 9 am and Harry was sure Snape would do worse than make him sort flobberworms if he were late.

Quietly, Harry made his way out of the common room and trudged through the barren halls. Several portraits nodded at him sleepily as he passed, the overcast sky brightening the castle windows.

He entered the defense classroom with five minutes to spare. Snape and Malfoy were both already in attendance. They were standing near the chalkboard and looked deep in conversation, though they kept their voices too low to be overheard.

Harry was vaguely relieved to see Malfoy had made a full recovery since their last meeting. He held himself tall in an expensive-looking pair of olive joggers and a Slytherin-crested dark grey quarter zip which he'd tucked into his beltline. The casual outfit flattered Malfoy's slender form quite strikingly. Harry suddenly felt very shabby in the maroon sweater Mrs. Weasley had knit him last Christmas.

"How kind of you to grace us with your presence, Potter," Snape said snidely as he realized Harry standing by the door. He gestured for Draco to take a seat. The blonde gave Harry a cold stare and slid gracefully into a chair near the front of the classroom.

Harry groaned silently in preparation for the impending torture and settled down at a desk in the second row. He and Malfoy waited in stiff silence as Snape disappeared into his storeroom before emerging with a tower of water-stained crates. He levitated the moth-eaten stack heavily down in front of Malfoy, who drew back with blatant repulsion.

"Filch was delighted to bring me these old files yesterday," Said Snape, "He's been needing the records of previous Hogwarts wrongdoers cleared out and I think this will be the perfect opportunity. You both with sort through each card and where the ink has faded or the parchment has been damaged by water or mice, you will copy the words on a fresh sheet. You will not use magic. Do you understand?"

"Yes professor," They muttered in unison.

The ex-potions master's lips curled into a malicious smile as his eyes skated over to Harry. "I thought you could begin with boxes one thousand and twenty-one and one thousand and twenty-two. You might even find some names you recognize, Potter," He pulled one of the cards from the topmost box, a thick puff of dust springing up after it. He read: "James Potter and Sirius Black, reprimanded for hexing Bartram Aubrey with a head growing curse. Head twice normal size. Double Detention,"

Harry felt his stomach sour as Malfoy peered back at him gleefully.

Snape looked triumphant as he stuffed the card back into place. "Isn't it good to know that though they are gone, their valiant memory still lives in these boxes?"

Harry felt his blood might boil. He clenched his teeth together to keep himself from saying something he would sorely regret.

For a good part of the next hour, the only sound filling the room was the scratch of ink pen on parchment and the ruffling of pages as both he and Malfoy solemnly sorted through their respective boxes.

Harry's stomach rolled each time he came across a name he recognized. Sirus Black, skipping class. Detention. James Potter, hexing Severus Snape with a levitation spell. Floating upside down by the ankle. Detention.

It caused Harry quite a jolt when the classroom door behind them was briskly opened, shattering the library-like atmosphere.

"Ah Severus, there you are! Might you have a moment to assist me- oh!" Professor Slughorn paused mid-stride dramatically as he noticed Harry and Malfoy craning at him from their seats. "Hello Harry, my boy. Look sharp," His eye drifted to Malfoy who he gave a noncommittal nod. Malfoy scowled at the anticlimactic acknowledgment.

"I'm, sorry Horrace, but as you can quite see," Snape said smoothly, "I am currently preoccupied,"

Slughorn frowned and wheedled his thumbs beneath his suspenders. "I'm afraid my problem is a bit time-sensitive. You see, I've started brewing some herbicide for Pamona, but I don't seem to have any lionfish spines in my stock. Must be fresh out! I was hoping to raid the private store I'd heard you keep in your office. I'm sure you wouldn't mind parting with just a few pieces and it wouldn't take long. Come now Severus, I'm sure these boys can watch themselves for a few minutes," He gave Harry a jovial wink.

Harry turned to see Snape's reaction to the urgent summons. The black-haired man had adopted a bent lip as if his features couldn't quite decide between a scowl and a grimace. Slowly, he rose from his desk. "It seems you've left me little choice in the matter. Next time do be more aware of your ingredients before beginning a brew,"

Slughorn beamed and stretched his already too-taut suspenders happily. "That's the ticket, Severus! Quickly now, before the pot boils over!" The portly man turned on his heel and bustled out of the classroom.

Snape stopped at Malfoy's desk as he followed the exuberant potions master towards the exit. "See to it that you and Potter continue your task without incident,"

"Yes sir," Malfoy said firmly, and with that, Snape departed in Slughorn's wake, looking like a bird of prey stalking after a particularly fat toad.

The door closed behind the pair with a click and the silence was restored once more. Harry breathed out and closed his eyes, waiting for an insult to come. Now that Snape was no longer supervising, he was sure Malfoy would harass the living daylights out of him. Harry starred at the back of Malfoy's head, his shiny platinum locks catching the snow brightness from outside. The soft scrape of pen on paper resumed as Malfoy scribbled on.

"What, you're just going to keep writing?" Harry said after several moments elapsed.

Malfoy didn't turn around, "Yes, Potter. Unless you're deaf, you heard what Snape said. Continue without incident. I don't fancy extending this detention arrangement and I don't imagine you do either, so I suggest you follow suit. That is assuming you're not enjoying yourself back there. Are you having fun reading about your father's Hogwarts escapades?"

Harry bristled instantly. "Shut up, Malfoy. Don't even think about insulting my father,"

Malfoy threw a cheeky grin over his shoulder. "The thought never crossed my mind, scar head. Though he and his friends were downright hellions by the sounds of it. I think they ought to have a whole box to themselves for all the cards I've come across. Some of the stunts they pulled make the Weasley twin pranks seem amateur,"

"You're exaggerating. I've done just as many cards as you and they've only been mentioned three times at most," Harry grit out.

Malfoy shrugged. "Your box is a dud. I've seen their names on practically every other card,"

Harry's chair legs squealed as he stood and rounded the desk, "We're switching boxes, then. You have no business reading about my father,"

Malfoy laughed boldly. "Suit yourself, but don't look so miserable. Snape was trying to goad you, but honestly, you should be thanking him. How else would you get these first-hand accounts?"

Malfoy's cool eyes met his. As their gaze locked, a jolt of electricity shot through Harry's chest, stunning the retort right out of him.

Had he ever really looked at Malfoy before? Really looked at him, up close and properly like this? How had he never gotten lost in Malfoy's steel-gray irises before? They were pools of silver that practically glowed in the window light. It wasn't just his eyes that were captivating either. His features were softened beneath silk platinum locks that had been left casually loose around his face. His lips curved in an elegant swell, a pastel peach against porcelain.

There was no other way to describe it. Malfoy was bloody gorgeous. Harry gulped at the realization.

"I mean, come on. Some of this stuff is gold," Malfoy said, pulling Harry mercifully back to the present. Malfoy slid one of the cards with a single finger across the desk for him to read. Harry hastily let his eye's fall, feeling quite hot in the cheeks and determined not to acknowledge whatever the hell had just come over him.

He bent forward to make out the somewhat smudged ink.

James Potter. Streaking through the Great Hall during breakfast mealtime. Stark nudity causing disruption and uproar amongst staff and students. Detention.

Harry looked up to Malfoy whose eyes were shining with genuine mirth. Feeling horrified, Harry swiped the card up, his cheeks flaming. Malfoy burst into laughter at that.

Harry hoisted up the offending box and stole it over to his table.

"We are switching," Harry said in finality, slamming his crate down in front of Malfoy to complete the swap.

"Oh come on, that one was hilarious. There's no need to get your hackles up. Do Weasley and Granger have to tread so gently around you? You're fairly prone to tantrums for someone who's almost of age,"

"I'm done talking to you. Just keep copying the bloody cards,"

Harry sat down in a huff and began angrily attacking a page, his pen pressed so firmly, he risked piercing the paper.

The peace lasted all but a minute.

"Potter," Malfoy said seriously. Harry reluctantly stopped writing and glared at the back of the Slytherin's shoulders, waiting for him to continue.

"What?" Harry finally barked.

Like a dog trainer, Malfoy held up a hand and motioned him over. Harry prickled at the audacity but curiosity got the best of him.

"Read this," Malfoy said once Harry stomped over.

He snatched the card out of Malfoy's pale fingers and read: Sirius Black. Daring students to streak naked through the Great Hall for losing game of Exploding Snap. Three instances of improper nudity as a subsequent result. Detention.

Harry skimmed the card once more. He could practically picture it. The handsome young Black convincing his friends to agree to the terms and then watching havoc ensue as the Great Hall saw more skin than a Quidditch locker room. Harry had only witnessed a fraction of Sirius's playful side as an adult, but this was exactly how Lupin described the old days.

Harry found Malfoy staring at him intently. A single golden eyebrow arched upward. "Your father wasn't very good at Exploding Snap, was he?"

"I suppose he wasn't," Harry replied calmly.

A silent battle ensued as he and Malfoy fought to keep their faces emotionless, but Harry was losing. He tried to suppress the escaping laugh but it was no use. His undignified snort turned into a full-on fit.

Malfoy's overly serious composure cracked with his, and suddenly, both he and Malfoy were doubled up and simply shaking with laughter.

By the time they wound down, they were both clutching their sides and gasping for breath.

"Mercy, I haven't laughed like that in ages," Malfoy wheezed. "I have to say, Potter, your father and his friends have made this detention quite a bit more interesting. And to think you were sulking back there because of it,"

"Fine then, you're right for once. It's pretty cool to read about my dad," Harry said, taking his glasses off to defog them with his robe sleeve.

"For once? If you really knew me then you'd realize I'm right all the time,"

Harry rolled his eyes, "I somehow doubt that. Snape won't be very happy to find out his grand idea to torment me has backfired,"

"Best not let him figure out or he'll come up with something three times worse over. I know being discrete isn't the most Gryffindor quality but I'm sure you can manage," Malfoy gestured to the crates which Harry now realized were like little time capsules. He grinned, looking down at the card in his hand and fully appreciating it for all its goofy glory.

His dad had lived and so had Sirius. This was proof. And for some reason, Malfoy had been the one to point that out to him.

"I thought we weren't supposed to make this a habit," Harry said slowly. "You know, this 'being civil' stuff,"

Malfoy gave him a pointed look, "Civilizing you is not on my agenda, Potter, believe me, but if we're going to be trapped in a room together every weekend until the end of term, we might as well make the best of it. Now for heaven's sake, sit down before Snape returns and finds us off task,"

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