Chapter Two

a/n- It should be noted this will probably be one of the last chapters from Harry's POV for a while. The next chapters are largely about Draco realizing that something is decidedly wrong. What would a Slytherin to do to his worst enemy?

Reviews would be greatly appreciated. If this seems to generate interest I will start updating frequently.

-o-o-

The library was the place to be in times of need because it was both quiet and likely to supply a nervous mind with information on whatever misfortune had afflicted them. This was of course, assuming that the student knew how to work the card catalog or was in the possession of the kind of manly courage that was necessary to approach Madame Pince. Harry found that at the moment, he was neither and though he sensed he was surrounded by enough books to solve his problem, the sheer volume of them seemed to impress into him uselessness. He sat down against a bench and started at the shelves.

Where to start, he found was the question. Once he had made a dent he might find the ambition to carry on. The grounds outside were already beginning to darken and for a moment Harry considered going to Snape. The moment soon passed and Harry wondered whether or not the potion might have effects on his sanity. Snape would laugh him straight out of his office. Feeling suddenly afraid and more than a little foolish he leaned against the wall, devising himself a mental plan.

Of all things he was sure he must stay away from Malfoy. That was simply evident, although a rumble in his stomach that he didn't think had anything to do with food followed this realization. The second step would be to find some books on the subject of- but what exactly was this? Not a love potion, though he was certainly aware that sensations that should never have been felt were certainly heightened. Nor was it Unctuous Unction in the sense that the book had laid out. Unctuous Unction was supposed to convince a drinker that the giver was a friend, it wasn't supposed to make them blurry eyed and flushed. His second step therefore should be to reveal all to Hermione. Something stopped him before he could decide to tell her though, whether it was some based on a nasty effect of the potion or some shred of embarrassment Harry found he did not particularly wish to tell this story unless he was forced to and he would be forced to account for it if he told her.

Collecting himself nicely, Harry was preparing to browse the potions shelves when a soft swish of feet on carpet made Harry lift his eyes. Between the bookshelves like some strange joke was Draco Malfoy. He walked purposefully, not yet aware of Harry's presence. Rather than feel the terror that Harry supposed he should considering the level of embarrassment and manipulation he might endure at the hands of Malfoy were the effects of the potion known, he felt the urge to laugh bubble up inside him tumultuously. He did so, making a fist in the material of his pants as he did so.

Malfoy's head jerked up at the sound and Harry found that did nothing to silence him. Giggling into his shirt Harry could barely meet his eyes. Malfoy watched him with a sneer. "Laughing at yourself Potter?"

Harry noticed with a terrific swoop that Malfoy seemed unnerved. Then without much warning the humor of the situation seemed to falter and Harry found himself alone with Malfoy and his curled lip. Harry wondered at the expression before tilting his head to the side and grinning. This time Malfoy actually glanced over his shoulder as if expecting to find Ron there yielding a mallet. "Good lord Potter, you look a fright."

Harry could only guess. "But you look marvelous as always Malfoy." Harry winced, two very separate voices fighting within him; reason and the lively potion that seemed to be turning his thoughts into sentences.

Malfoy's eyes widened. "What was that?"

"Only that you look smashing. Completely put together. I love your hair." Harry was not sure what world these words had wandered off his tongue from, only that he was completely and totally taken with Malfoy's complexion.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Malfoy was looking at him now as though he had multiple heads and Harry, in complete adversity to what he had felt that morning or ever before in his life found himself if not taken in, completely enthralled by Malfoy's lips.

"I-uhm-" Harry groped for something that wouldn't make him sound disturbed, "I want you."

Malfoy blinked.

"And by you, of course, I mean your pants." He had turned into a babbling idiot. A creepy blushing idiot. At this point however, Harry was beginning to think that his best bet was to play this sentence up with utmost sincerity and hope Malfoy took it for sarcasm. Malfoy seemed to agree with Harry's sense of horror and promptly shrunk away from him, though his eyes remained on Harry.

"What the hell did you bump your head on Potter?"

"Your face Malfoy." Harry pulled back against the wall wishing with all the force his reasonable brain could muster that he could escape. Never in his life had he been a good liar and never had he been able to hide his feelings well. They showed on his face and even though what he was feeling had to be completely made up or from a bottle, he was feeling it as well as he might if it had been real.

Malfoy scowled, wrinkling his nose in a most unattractive way. "That is absolutely disgusting Potter."

On the outside it was nothing more than a normal exchange but judging by the light pink flush across his nose and cheeks Harry felt he had hit a nerve. A compulsive need ran through him to discover what it might have been, one he attributed to the potion entirely. "Come on Malfoy, don't tell me you don't think about it."

Malfoy's entire frame froze, their eyes locked and Malfoy's were so cold Harry almost flinched away. "What the hell are you insinuating Potter?"

"Only that you'd like to bump heads is all."

Malfoy was sneering in such a way his words came out with a bite. "What does that even mean?"

Harry was loosing his head completely, Malfoy's presence drowning rationality. Harry's eyes were fickle, the easiest way of seeing into this madness and Harry realized even as he was doing it that his eyes had dropped from eye level, taking in other lower extremities. The sneer on Malfoy's face was frozen there as his eyes followed Harry's on a path down his own body. Harry thought his breathing looked a little uneven when the very near sound of Pince and her feather duster seemed to wake them. Malfoy jolted to movement, his face a mixture of disgust and something else less readable. Muttering profanities he hastened back around the corner of the shelf and left Harry to his potions induced nightmare.