"Good morning, Harry."
Harry came out of his reverie. It was Monday morning and the weather had finally broken. He looked up to see Luna standing in front of him on the other side of the Gryffindor meal table.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. Who were you thinking about?"
Harry blinked. "Um... What makes you think I was thinking about someone?"
"I can see it in your eyes. But they're gone now. Anyways, I wanted to congratulate you for Saturday. Both for winning the match and saving Draco's life."
Harry nearly choked on his orange juice. "How–how do you know about that? We were way above the rest of the game and it was almost too rainy to see anything."
"Omnioculars. I find it much more entertaining to watch your face as you react to the game than to watch the game for myself."
Harry felt a blush starting to creep across his face. "You watch me instead of the match?"
"Oh, yes. I always know which team has the Quaffle by the look on your face." Luna smiled. "Well, I won't bother you any more. See you later, Harry."
"Bye, Luna."
As he watched Luna walk back to the Ravenclaw table, Harry felt something small bump into the back of his head. Harry turned around to find a folded paper aeroplane hovering there. He grabbed it and it unfolded in his hands to reveal a small note written in an elegant cursive script.
Talking to your girlfriend, Harry?
Harry looked around the Great Hall, but there were too many students to see properly. He couldn't find anyone who looked like they would have sent him the note. He thought for a second, then pulled a stubby pencil from his pocket. He wrote
Luna is not my girlfriend. And it's none of your business.
When he finished, he half expected the plane to fold back up and fly back to its sender. But nothing happened. Acting on a whim, Harry took his wand and simply tapped the paper once. It folded up promptly and zoomed off under the table, weaving in and out of the crowd until Harry lost track of it. There was no way to tell where it was headed.
Soon enough, Harry felt the plane bump into the back of his head once again.
If it's none of my business, then why did you tell me? Besides, I wasn't referring to her. I was referring to that goblet of orange juice. You two seem so happy together.
Haha, very funny. You're so clever. If I didn't know Hermione's handwriting so well from copying her notes, I'd suspect that you were her.
This time, Harry strained to keep track of the plane. But it just resorted to even more drastic measures to make sure he couldn't trace it. It flew out the high windows that were normally reserved for owls and disappeared. Harry was still watching the ceiling for a glimpse of the plane when he felt the tip of it against his head.
You're lucky to have her, you know. Not all of us have unfortunately brilliant friends to help us cheat on our exams.
Hermione doesn't help us cheat! She's too opposed to cheating for that. She just helps us with our essays sometimes. And why are you bothering me? Who are you?
This time when Harry tapped it with his wand, the plane folded up, and with a sound like a miniature Disapparation, vanished from the spot. Less than a minute later, it reappeared in front of him. When it unfolded, it was entirely blank except for a small drawing. It was a dragon.
Draco, wake up! Draco thought furiously to himself. What do you think you're doing, messing with Ha– with Potter like that? And the dragon?
Draco took a deep breath and reined in his emotions. It would be okay. Potter was so dense anyways that he probably wouldn't suspect a thing.
Where Harry had felt the new tension between himself and Draco but hadn't been able to recognize it, Draco knew what it was immediately. And it scared him. He couldn't think of anything worse that could happen between them, except maybe if Harry started using clever retorts. The day Potter said something honestly insulting to Draco was the day Draco began taking all his meals in bed.
"Come on, Draco," Blaise said, bringing his attention back to the Great Hall. "We've got Potions in a couple minutes."
Draco waved a hand, signaling he'd be right along. There was one more thing he needed to do first...
Harry was still studying the drawing on the way to Potions with Slytherin when he heard an all too familiar voice from behind him.
"Oi, Potter! What are you reading? I saw you sending that paper aeroplane during breakfast. Is it a love letter from your boyfriend?"
Harry hastily hid the paper in his pocket. "It's really none of your business, Malfoy, so you can shove off."
"I can see I hit a nerve. Oh, haven't you come out yet?" Malfoy's leering voice echoed strangely off the walls of the abandoned corridor.
Harry stopped in his tracks and spun to face the other boy. "I'm–not–gay."
Malfoy simply raised a single, thin eyebrow and sauntered past Harry. His soundless reaction served to make Harry rethink how defensive he had sounded.
"Look, I'm not gay, okay? I–I have Ginny."
Malfoy stopped and looked at Harry over his shoulder. "Do you? I heard she was with Thomas now. Or perhaps it was Finnegan. I simply can't recall."
"Well... but... She and I have a, em, an understanding."
The response was a short laugh that still somehow managed to be full to the brim with derision. Once again, Harry's rage got the better of him. Without thinking, he leapt forward and slammed into the Slytherin with the heels of both palms.
Malfoy hit the wall with a thud and stumbled, but didn't fall. His face was utterly shocked before twisting into something scarily like the snarl of a cat.
"I swear on my mother's dowry, Potter, if you ever touch me again, I will take exquisite pleasure in making you wish you had never bought your wand in Diagon Alley and come to Hogwarts." With a final glare, he spun around and strode off towards the dungeons.
Harry wasn't sure what to make of that, but he didn't have time to ponder. Potions had probably already started. He jogged the rest of the way down to the classroom, but when he arrived, there was something horribly wrong.
"Mr Potter. I'm so glad you deigned to visit us this morning," Snape said as Harry stood in the doorway. "Now sit down or it's detention for a week."
"But, sir..."
"I said immediately, Potter!" Snape somehow looked even more disapproving of Harry's existence as he said this, and Harry didn't dare argue. He sat in the only available seat–next to his favourite blond nemesis.
"As you can see, Potter, I've asked the class to split into pairs of one Slytherin and one Gryffindor. Professor Slughorn couldn't attend this morning and asked me to stand in for him. Today you will be following the instructions on the board–you will not require your books. When you are finished, you will give me a sample and label it as you see fit. Those of you who have done your homework will know what the potion is. Note that you are also expressly forbidden to remove the potion from this classroom. Begin."
Harry sighed, regretting that he couldn't use his copy of the Potions book with the Half-Blood Prince's instructions scrawled in the margins to help him with the potion. He squinted at the list of ingredients, which included moonstones and rose thorns. Beside him, Malfoy had already started to bring the cauldron to a boil.
"Well?" Malfoy said. "Make yourself useful and go get the ingredients."
"Erm, Malfoy... about the hallway..."
"Merlin's beard, Potter! I didn't ask you to blubber at me. Go get the ingredients."
Muttering to himself about rude people, Harry went into the store cupboards and found everything they needed for the potion. He sat back down in his seat and was just ready to fold his arms and let Malfoy do all the work–perhaps he didn't need the Prince's book after all–, when Malfoy said, "Start crushing the moonstones. It needs to be smaller than pebble sized, but not powdered. Think coarse sand."
Harry glared, but Malfoy was too engrossed in bringing the cauldron to the proper temperature to notice. He took out a mortar and pestle and began grinding the moonstones. The process required a lot of physical effort. It was almost therapeutic, if Harry imagined Malfoy's face on the stones as he ground them to bits. He was thankful for his many years of Quidditch practice. It would have been an impossible task without his upper body strength honed from riding a broom so often.
After some time, the moonstones appeared to be the right consistency. Harry paused to look over at the cauldron. Malfoy was currently stirring in Ashwinder eggs, one at a time, concentrating hard to ensure he didn't add too many. "That's probably enough. You can stop grinding now."
Silently, he handed over the ground moonstones. Their fingers brushed together as he passed them over and Harry noted how warm Malfoy's were from the cauldron. They had always seemed like they would be cold, perhaps because they were pale and slim. It seemed Malfoy had forgotten about his threat, as he said nothing.
Malfoy shook the moonstones a bit, then dumped them in all at once. The potion's colour crept from a murky green to a vivid violet. "Almost done..." Malfoy said.
Harry started to ask what it was, but Malfoy's expression was one of such intense concentration, he didn't want to bother him. Besides, Malfoy was sure to upbraid Harry for not knowing which potion it was.
Looking around the class, Harry saw that the other pairs were having more difficulty with the concoction. Many looked confused or slightly helpless as they tried to coax their potions into the right consistency and colour. As he watched, Hermione carefully sprinkled crushed moonstone into the potion until it turned violet, making hers the only other group that had reached that point.
Harry turned back to the board and scanned it until he found the next step. According to the instructions, once the potion was violet and five minutes had passed, a single sprig of mint stirred in would finish the potion. If done correctly, the potion would become a glistening pink.
Harry turned back to the cauldron and found Malfoy regarding him with a cool expression. He held out the mint leaves. "Care to do the honours?"
Harry took the mint. "Which way do I stir it?"
"Clockwise."
Harry dropped the mint into the center of the potion. It slowly sank into the bubbling surface as he took the stirring rod and gave it a couple clockwise stirs. With what seemed a nearly audible "plink," the potion grew a pink circle in the centre which quickly expanded until it reached the walls of the cauldron. It took on a bright sheen.
Harry turned back to Malfoy, who gave him a nod. "I'll clean up if you take a sample and label it," said the Slytherin.
Harry carefully took a ladle and poured some of the potion into a glass vial. He stoppered the container and tied a small tag around the cork. He took out a quill, but hesitated. He still had no idea what the potion was.
"Um, Draco?"
He turned and gave Harry a look that was difficult to read.
"What potion did we make?" Harry asked.
Malfoy's odd expression turned to one of innocent surprise. "You don't know what this is?"
Harry shook his head.
"It's a Love Potion."