Ch 3 Getting to Veritas

Draco Malfoy was having a tough day. Granted, it was good that the stupid OWL exams were over with. But when he'd received the note from his mother, everything had started to go down hill. It was bad enough that his father was a Death Eater, but to be caught at it, in the Ministry of Magic itself, was just too much.

Oh, Lucius Malfoy the Suspected Death Eater sounded good, especially when your family was powerful enough that nothing actually stuck, but the reality of it was a different story. A Malfoy in Azkaban; unthinkable!

And it was all Potter's fault.

So when Draco saw Potter wandering aimlessly through the fifth floor halls all alone, it seemed like the perfect time to get a little revenge. If Draco had thought about it a little more, he might not have kept up the chase. After all, he was alone too, but the sight of that messy black hair and oh-so-noble look made little red sparks flash in front of Draco's eyes. He was so angry, he just wanted to get to Potter, to have a chance to really do some damage in a place where no one would find them, and where Potter couldn't escape from him.

Now they were both stuck. Both of them had gotten part of what they wanted. Potter got a place where he couldn't be harmed, and Draco got a place where his enemy couldn't get away from him. What confused Draco was that Potter couldn't seem to hurt him, and why wouldn't the room let Malfoy escape either?

So they sat there. Potter had lost his mind once they realized what had happened, but seemed to be calmer now. He even tried to order Draco to eat, like that would work. But the fire whiskey was enough incentive, so he was finally able to eat.

Why was Potter staring at him like that? Why did he keep asking those stupid questions?

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Potter?" Malfoy spat, narrowing his eyes at his enemy. "Who are you to judge what evil is?"

Harry looked back at him without blinking. "What do you call evil, then?"

The question again took Draco aback. "What?"

Harry took a sip from his cup of fire whiskey without looking away from the blond boy. This could be interesting, he thought.

The strength of Potter's gaze made Draco uncomfortable. He took a large swallow of fire whiskey. The heat of it made him choke and cough, much to his consternation. He leaned over his knees, hacking and turning red, eyes tearing up. He reached for the cup he just put down, and found a different one, filled with water, right next to it. He drank it gratefully. The water was cold and clean; just what he needed.

Malfoy didn't look up for a few moments. Once the coughing let up, he was expecting to hear Potter laughing at him. When he did raise his face, the tousle-haired boy was still just looking at him calmly.

"Are you okay?"

"What does it matter to you?" The words were out of Malfoy's mouth without him even needing to think them.

"I'd rather not see anyone else die, thanks," said Harry.

Malfoy snorted. "Right, like you'd cry if I dropped dead."

Now it was Harry's turn to look away. "I don't want to see anyone die." The images of Cedric's body, one second standing, the next second dead on the ground, flashed through Harry's mind. His parent's spirits, all the people felled by Voldemort's wand, and Sirius. His surprised look, then the slow fall through the mysterious veil in the Department of Mysteries. The thoughts hurt; he shoved them away. With a distant sort of surprise, they left easily, and his mind was clear and quiet again. Well, almost clear. The fire whiskey was having an effect, it seemed. He drank again, more deeply than he meant to; and started wheezing.

Malfoy did laugh, but it didn't sound as malicious as Harry had heard him before. Even Harry laughed a little, once he got breath back. "Guess I didn't learn from your mistake." He craned his neck up a little bit to see over the pile of cushions. "Where did you get the water?"

Malfoy looked at the cup. "I thought I got it from you." When Harry shook his head, Draco shrugged. "I guess the room provided it. I needed it more than you, if you didn't get it."

"That's strange. This is the Room of Requirement, but it seems to pick and choose," said Harry, gesturing at the conspicuously blank wall where the door ought to be. "Nice of it to give us have this, even if it's trying to kill both of us." He raised his fire whiskey cup in a mock toast.

Draco raised his cup too. "How much do you have left in yours?" A hint of challenge crept into his voice.

"About half," said Harry, peering at it. He lifted the bottle. "You want a refill?" At Draco's nod, Harry filled his own, nearly to the top, then got up on his knees to pass the bottle.

Once they both had full cups, they locked eyes. A gauntlet had been thrown; the battle flags were flying, and it would only end with bottoms up. Despite themselves, they'd both started to grin.

"Ready?"

"Yes! Set!"

"Go!"

X x X

Short, I know. But we're finally getting to the real set up, you know, to the point. Let me know what is thought about it. I'm changing the description and rating to make it a bit more clear what the hell is going to go on once I decide to get to the friggin point.