Neville Longbottom was…different from he rest the list. Harry had nothing against Neville, but Draco did. Neville was the least respectable of everyone at school in Draco's mind. Why didn't Harry think Draco wouldn't want Neville to know? Respect. A different kind of respect. Self-respect. If Neville was the lowest of the low and he knew something like that, something so demeaning, about Draco, the blonde would lose all respect for himself.

Potions. Harry was almost incredulous at how well things were working out for him. Snape made Malfoy work with Neville. Harry and Ron were working behind them.

"Harry. Harry!" Ron hissed in his ear.

"What?"

"Stop chopping. They're small enough!"

Harry realized that the fireleeks were definitely small enough. He had been thinking about Blaise the day before. Draco showed Blaise almost less respect than Pansy. Another name to scratch off the list. "Sorry." He scraped the leek bits together and put them in the cauldron.

"Are you okay? You've been acting kind of, weird, recently." Ron looked somewhat pointedly at Draco.

Harry shrugged and muttered, "The dare."

Ron nodded. "Just don't overdo it."

Harry nodded back to indicate that he understood, and then shushed Ron with his finger. Draco was trying to direct Neville. "Longbottom. Just…stir." He handed the trembling Gryffindor a large ladle and turned to chop up his fireleeks. Shortly, the cauldron began emitting sparks. Neville panicked and covered the cauldron, trying to get Draco's attention.

"Malfoy? Malfoy?" His voice quavered as the cover rattled. He grabbed the edge of Draco's sleeve and tugged. "Malfoy?"

Harry had been watching with an air of both amusement and worry. Now, he was more worried than amused. Some sparking was actually expected; but no cauldron should be threatening to explode, even covered and overheated, this was a rather harmless potion.

Suddenly, he was struck with an important fact. No one was paying attention. Draco kept shrugging Neville off. Snape was busily yelling at Dean and Seamus across the room. The lid on Neville's cauldron lifted a bit on one side and orange smoke billowed out for a moment before it clanked back into place. The smoke continued to leak out from under the cover, forming a thin orange layer up at the dungeon ceiling. The cauldron began to shake, to tremble with the pressure.

Just then, Draco finally turned to Neville. "What, Longbottom?!" His eyes fell on the cauldron. "Fuck!" The blonde ran toward the cauldron. So did Harry. He wasn't really thinking, he just knew that the cauldron was going to explode.

"Draco! Get back!" He shouldered Draco aside, landing on top of him, as the cauldron exploded behind them. He remembered no more.

Harry opened his eyes. Everything was blurry. He saw two people, he thought. Red. Red hair surrounded a pale face. And brown. Lots of brown hair obscured the other. "Ron? Hermione?" The faces turned to him; he thought they might be smiling.

"Harry! You're awake!" Hermione threw herself forward to hug him. Then she handed him his glasses.

"You had us worried, mate, taking that cauldron." As Harry put on his glasses, Ron clapped a hand on his shoulder. Harry suddenly remembered what had happened.

"Draco!"

Ron gave Hermione a look, kind of a 'see what I mean?' look. Harry wondered what that was for. Hermione sat on the edge of his bed. "He's fine. You nearly suffocated him and he got a concussion when he hit the floor, but you got it worse." The look in her eyes said that she hadn't said everything she wanted to, but she stopped there.

Harry thought about this for a moment, and then realized that he couldn't really feel parts of his body. He thought he recognized the sensation, but he had never managed to label it in the wizarding world. He turned his head to look at Hermione. "I'm numb, aren't I?" It was a misnomer and he knew it, 'numb' is the tingling sensations you get from muggle drugs like novocaine. This was more like a false normal. He felt no pain, but no real feeling either.

Hermione nodded. "There were too many broken bones. They should all be back by now, Madam Pomfrey grew them back while you were out."

"What time is it?"

"Well, almost dinner time. The numb should wear off shortly; Madam Pomfrey will want to check you one more time."

"Is Draco still in here too?"

Again, a look between them. Harry, as he had been a few times in the last year or so, was both resentful and envious of their relationship. Not only did they love each other, they could communicate so well. Ron answered this time. "Yes, but he should be leaving very shortly." He glanced sharply at a bed a little ways away. The curtains were closed.

He was starting to feel the dull pain in his limbs. A door opened and Madam Pomfrey bustled by. "Oh good, you're awake! I'll be back in just a moment, I must check on Mr. Malfoy." She walked behind the curtain at the other bed.

Harry found himself watching the curtain, waiting for Draco to emerge. He just wanted to see that he was all right. Hermione tapped him on the shoulder. "Hmm?" He didn't look back at her, but he was listening.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

Then the curtain opened. Harry watched as Draco got out of the bed. He looked around and saw Harry. Harry quickly averted his gaze, some. Draco didn't look much worse for wear; but then again, he hadn't taken much of the blow. As Draco passed the bed, he stopped, giving Harry that look again, head to toe. It made him feel vulnerable, on the bed, only just starting to get the feeling back in his limbs. But then something changed in Draco's eyes, the stone gray softened, the ice melted, but only for a second. Harry figured he had imagined it. Maybe it was time to bone up on his Occlumency.

"Potter, are we still on for tonight?"

At first Harry didn't remember what tonight was. Oh, right, he was going to give Draco captaining tips. "Um, yeah, sure."

Draco glanced at Ron and Hermione, and then continued. "Where and when?"

Harry considered for a moment. The easiest thing was the invisibility cloak; they could use one of the rooms on the Marauder's Map. He almost laughed. It sounded like a lover's midnight rendezvous. All for quidditch. And the dare. He had almost forgotten the dare. "Um…I'll come and get you. Meet me at the entrance to your common room at ten." Ten was after Draco's bath and it would give Harry some more time to recover.

Draco looked at him somewhat suspiciously, and then nodded. "See you then, Potter." He turned and left the room, not quite managing his usual saunter.

When Draco turned the corner, Harry looked back to Ron and Hermione. He could read the look they were giving him now. 'Explain yourself.'

He looked at Ron. "The dare. It's a little difficult to learn so much unless I actually spend time with him."

Hermione's eyes bolted to Ron. "You're still playing that game?" Ron quelled. This was another almost entertaining aspect of their relationship. The strong red head shrank in the face of his girlfriend's anger or disapproval. "I have told you a million times. Both of you." She swung her gaze to Harry. Having finally gotten some motion back, he held his hands up innocently. It hurt. He put them down, sucking air through his teeth. "That game is pointless and dangerous!"

"It is not dangerous." Ron muttered.

"You keep telling yourself that, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione was getting rather worked up. "It's all fun and games until someone loses and eye! Or worse!"

Ron fell back on his usual strategy. He grabbed both of her hands and pulled her close. "All right. I understand. We'll stop. Calm down." Then he kissed her. He made it mercifully quick or Harry would have felt rather uncomfortable.

Hermione smiled at Ron. "Alright." Both Harry and Ron had appreciated this discovery of Ron's quite a few times. It had saved them from long talking-tos repeatedly. She looked at Harry. "You'll stop too?"

Harry, the golden boy, couldn't lie to either of his best friends. "I have to finish this dare."

The anger flashed through her eyes again, but, for some reason, she kept quiet. She nodded. "Be careful." Then she left, leaving the two boys alone.

Once she was out of earshot, Harry looked at Ron. "I need to know what he did. When I was out. All of it. I try to see as much of what he does as I possibly can, so be my eyes and tell me what I missed."

Ron fumbled for a moment. "Well…where do I start?"

Harry sighed. "I knocked Draco out of the way. Boom, the cauldron exploded. Then…"

"Then everyone looked. Snape went over and yelled at Neville for something like two whole minutes before Hermione saw you on the floor and Malfoy pinned under you. he couldn't talk because you were suffocating him. Neville was crying and Snape yelled at him. Then he made fun of you for having to 'protect' Malfoy. 'Our school's boy wonder' and all of that." Harry nodded, urging Ron to continue. "Then Malfoy got his breath back. Harry, I've never heard him like that. He kept looking at you, lying there looking all broken, you looked terrible, and he just…rambled. Do Malfoy's ramble?"

Harry managed to pull himself into a sitting position, but his whole body hurt, a sort of dull throbbing pain. He shrugged and Ron continued. "Let's see. He definitely said something about it being his fault. He said Neville was only stirring. Come to think of it, I think that's the first time I've ever heard Malfoy blame himself for something. Snape said it was an accident and didn't take any points, the git. Then, Malfoy insisted on following you up here. I think it was the concussion." Ron nodded. Harry thought about it, but was kept from drawing any conclusions by the arrival of Madam Pomfrey.

"Mr. Potter. I see you have regained sensation. Does anything hurt?"

"Does 'everything' count?"

She nodded. "Yes, that sounds about right. Nothing hurts especially though?"

He shook his head.

"Good. Do you think you can walk?"

"I can try."

Ron helped him out of the bed and he found that everything really did hurt. Several everythings, some of which he didn't even know he had. But he could walk, so Madam Pomfrey released him. As he made his way to the Great Hall under Ron's supervision, he crossed Neville off. Obviously, Draco respected him enough to save him from blame, which totally undercut his theory. He sighed and wondered what was for dinner. He was incredibly hungry.