A/N: I think this is actually the shortest chapter yet. But to make up for its length, it does reveal a lot, and there's some H/D, if you squint.

Chapter Eight

Harry decided that going to the Black Lake again wouldn't be so bad. He'd dressed in a black turtleneck, long dark pants, and put on heavy boots. When he found Malfoy in his storage room, scribbling something onto a parchment, Harry noted that Malfoy had dressed in a similar manner.

Malfoy didn't even look up as Harry entered the dim room. It must have been nearly ten o'clock at night. From the list of ingredients they were still missing, Harry had gathered that they were going to get toad's feet while the moon was full.

"What else do we still need to get, after the toad's feet?" Harry asked as he waited for Malfoy to finish his scribbling.

Malfoy looked up at him and smirked. Harry realized that his smiles were getting less malicious by the day. "Well done, Potter. You've realized that it's the full moon and that we're getting toad's feet." He closed the book he was referencing and stood up. "You'll be glad to know that tonight is the last night we're getting ingredients for the Felix Felicis."

Harry's eyes widened. "You can't be serious. We already have everything else?"

Malfoy glanced at the shelf he'd designated to the liquid luck potion ingredients. It was nearly full of vials, small packets, and other materials. "Yes, we do. Abercrombie got me the red bat's ears—the boy must really hate me by now—and I found a Doxy egg in a particularly abandoned part of the castle. I already have elderflower wine, moonstone, and honeywater. We'll be all set."

Harry found himself beaming at Malfoy. "Excellent! What are we waiting for?"

They set out toward the Black Lake. The full moon lit up the sky and basked the castle grounds in blue shadows. Even as they approached the lake, Harry almost expected to hear the frogs croaking along the shore. Though the weather was a bit warmer, most frogs were probably hibernating in the lake or under logs or mud. Another reason to have worn boots, Harry realized, as they'd probably walk through mud. He brought his wand out and quietly whispered, "Lumos," to light their way.

Malfoy handed him a pair of gloves as they neared the shore. The water was black and still as it rippled across the sand. Harry remembered lying upon that stretch of shore after being poisoned by the stonefish and Malfoy's alarmed face, hovering over him. He didn't realize until now just how much the animosity between them had changed.

As Harry dug through crevices upon the shore, muddying up his gloves, he addressed Malfoy. "If we get the toads' feet quickly enough, do you suppose we can get started on the Felix Felicis tonight?"

Malfoy sounded entertained by Harry's enthusiasm. "If you really want to. I have the ingredients ready and I've studied the instructions probably a hundred times. I could probably read off every step right now—"

"I don't particularly want to hear it," Harry said as he broke off part of a log, looking for toads. "It'll just remind me how much work we still have to do."

Harry heard Malfoy's boots squishing through the mud as he looked through the reeds. A moment later, he heard Malfoy call out, "I've found one!" Then more shuffling noises came from his direction as Malfoy was presumably attempting to get the creature out of the reed bed.

Harry smiled to himself and continued upturning logs and large patches of dead leaves. "Do you really suppose it'll take six months like the directions state?" he asked Malfoy as he picked through the leaves. "I mean, we're nearly done with finding ingredients and you said that would take a considerable amount of time."

"I didn't anticipate how easily we would find these creatures, especially in the dead of winter," Malfoy replied, huffing slightly from his struggle in the reeds. He appeared out of them with an immobilized toad cradled in his hands. "And I hadn't thought that I'd have so many of the ingredients after the flood, or that I could make Abercrombie find them for us."

Harry watched as Malfoy placed the toad into a pouch he'd brought along. Returning to the logs, Harry overturned a particularly putrid-looking piece of wood and found a toad half-submerged in the mud, its back glistening in the moonlight. Grinning, Harry dug his hand into the patch and scooped it out. Following Malfoy's example, he immobilized it.

"We only need two, right?" Harry asked as he handed the toad to Malfoy, who placed it in the pouch. "Since the potion asks for three toad's feet?"

Malfoy smiled at him, his face shadowed in the darkness, and took off his muddied gloves. "I'm surprised how well you remember these things."

"You're not the only one that's looked at the list a hundred times," Harry muttered. He countered the Lumos spell and turned off the light at the tip of his wand, then handed Malfoy his own dirty gloves.

"So, now that we've gotten the ingredients in several weeks' time with minimal bickering," Malfoy began, his voice sounding amused, "how will you handle six months of creating a murderously complicated potion—with me, of all people?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not particularly looking forward to it." But his face broke into a smile as he said it.

They began walking down the shoreline as Malfoy said, "Well, that's really a shame, because—"

But he didn't finish his statement, as his right foot slipped in the deep mud and he fell backwards. Malfoy grunted as he sat in the mud and attempted to pick himself up. In the darkness, Harry could see that Malfoy's glistening blond hair was streaked with grime and his robes were stained with the substance as well. They must have gone in a different part of the lake shore, because a few days ago, the shore had been sandy and smooth and not so muddy.

Harry laughed as he extended a hand out to Malfoy. Cursing, Malfoy reached out his left hand toward him and his robe sleeves fell, exposing his arm. Harry's laughter stilled as he saw, in the faint moonlight, the dim lines of the Dark Mark carved into Malfoy's forearm. His breath caught in his throat, and he remembered who he was laughing at, who he had been sharing innermost thoughts with, and who he was starting to consider a friend.

Malfoy sensed his sudden closure and ceased cursing under his breath. He turned his head to look at his exposed arm and saw the Mark, faint but visible even under the full moon. His expression immediately became grim.

"Potter—" he began quietly, but Harry cut him off as he grasped Malfoy's left hand tightly and pulled him out of the mud. Malfoy looked at him thankfully, yet his grave expression didn't change.

But Harry didn't let go of his hand. Instead, he brought Malfoy's arm closer to him and examined the pale black lines. The two stood perhaps a foot apart as Harry placed his other hand on Malfoy's forearm and carefully traced the black skull with his fingers. He ran down the length of the Mark, tracing the serpent that crawled out of the skull's mouth.

When Harry looked up to see Malfoy's reaction, he saw that the latter had closed his eyes and was biting his bottom lip, looking more sorrowful than he had ever seen him. The day Harry had witnessed Malfoy's distress in Myrtle's bathroom came flooding back.

"I don't let anyone see this," Malfoy said quietly. But he made no move to pull his hand out of Harry's grasp. "I've tried everything to get rid of the Mark, but it's stayed even after You-Know-Who died. Of course, it's inactive, but I don't like being reminded of its meaning, of the message it sends to everyone around me."

The initial uneasiness Harry had felt at seeing the Dark Mark dissipated. Instead, he realized that the Mark no longer fit Malfoy. It was as much a reminder of the past as Harry's lightning bolt scar was to him.

As though hearing Harry's thoughts, Malfoy slowly brought his right hand to Harry's forehead and paused, as though asking for permission. Harry flinched, but didn't pull away. Looking curious and still a bit troubled, Malfoy carefully pushed Harry's bangs out of the way and traced Harry's scar with his fingers. His fingers were cold and smooth against Harry's forehead, and he realized that his face had heated up. His stomach fell as he examined Malfoy's expression, devoid of anger, mocking, or irritation.

"You're as much Marked as I am," Malfoy stated.

Harry stared at the black lines upon Malfoy's forearm. He realized how much they held in common. While Voldemort had selected Harry as his rival, Marking him with the scar, Voldemort had also selected Malfoy for the impossible task of killing Dumbledore, Marking him above all other followers.

"You were as much Chosen as I was," Harry replied.

He released Malfoy's left arm and Malfoy's hand fell from Harry's forehead. They looked at each other for several moments, as though afraid to break the atmosphere they'd created. They then began walking back to the castle in silence. Harry was surprised to note that Malfoy hadn't even bothered to clean his dirty robes, nor did he complain about the mud in his clothes, as Harry might have expected. They were both lost in thought as they neared the Dungeons and Harry found that his heart was still beating quickly, though he didn't quite know why.

After they entered the storage room, Malfoy shook off his muddied robes and sat at the desk in the corner to begin cutting off the toads' feet. He did the same with these as with most other ingredients: placed them into a jar of preserving goo, labeled the jar, and placed it on a shelf.

"Shall we get started?" Harry asked, finding a cauldron already set up in the room. Whatever they had both experienced by the lake would probably not become an object of discussion. Harry understood that there was nothing to be said about it.

Malfoy had opened a reference book and was looking upon it intently as Harry picked up the thick Potions volume he had first read. But as Harry passed Malfoy's desk, something Malfoy was referencing caught his eye.

At the top of the page was a title and caption in script writing: Antidotes, The Creation of Antidotes for Any Poison. Harry was puzzled by this. He supposed Malfoy was researching the poison for killing Dementors, but—why would they need an antidote if they planned to poison the creatures? Why have an antidote ready just to heal them afterward?
Malfoy noticed that Harry was hovering over him and glancing at the book he was reading. Malfoy immediately closed the book and stood up, heading toward the shelf of ingredients. "Alright, I suppose we should get started," he said, his words smoothing over his suspicious behavior.

"Malfoy, why are you researching antidotes?" Harry asked, deciding that Malfoy was hiding something.

Malfoy gave him an unreadable look, but didn't reply. He picked up a vial from the shelf and strode toward the cauldron.

Harry had the nagging feeling that Malfoy was truly hiding something important, but that he didn't want to lie to Harry. "Malfoy," Harry said warningly. "Tell me."

"I have nothing to tell you," Malfoy snapped.

"This has something to do with killing the Dementors," Harry continued, unfazed by Malfoy's reaction. "For whatever reason, you're planning to use an antidote." He took a few steps toward Malfoy, becoming angry that Malfoy wasn't revealing an important part of his plan. "But why would you create an antidote just to heal the bloody creatures after you attempt to kill them?"

Malfoy rounded on him. "What the hell gave you that idea? Of course I'm not going to heal the damn things! Do you honestly think I'm that foolish?"

"Then what are you doing with the antidote?" Harry crossed his arms, looking at Malfoy menacingly, as though he wouldn't accept any lies or vague answers.

Malfoy pursed his lips and after a moment of looking into Harry's dark expression, glanced away. After some silence, in which he was constructing his answer carefully, he said, "I can't think of a way to get the Dementors to take the poison. All the books I've read suggest that they're too ethereal to ingest something directly. Moreover, they're too intelligent to be fooled into drinking poison."

Harry listened carefully, but his stance didn't loosen. He continued glaring at Malfoy. "But you've found a way to get them to ingest it."

"Yes," Malfoy acknowledged. "I've thought of something that will work. I'm certain of it because it's based on the way Dementors feed."

"So what does it have to do with antidotes?" Harry asked, now curious at the nervous expression on Malfoy's face.

Malfoy bit his bottom lip. "Now, Potter. You have to listen to me carefully. Don't overreact—listen to me entirely."

Harry nodded, uncrossing his arms and looking more curious.

"You first have to understand how this poison works," Malfoy began. "It has to be based on memories, because Dementors feed off of good memories, leaving the person drained, left with their worst recollections. If the poison fools the Dementor into thinking they are feeding off of good memories, when they are really eating up the person's worst ones, the Dementor will become weakened. And if the Dementor attempts to Kiss the person—it will die."

Harry considered this. "Alright, that makes sense. But why are you talking about the poison as if it won't be ingested by the Dementor? As if the Dementor only feels its effects?"

Malfoy looked particularly troubled. "Because, Potter, the Dementor won't be taking the poison."

Harry's eyes widened. "You can't mean—"

"One of us will."

Thanks for reading! (Sorry for the cliffhanger). Please review! :D