26. Uncovering Draco Malfoy - Part 2
"Harry!"
As he exited the stairs from the dungeons, he looked up to see Ginny bounding down the marble stairs in the Entrance Hall. Luna was drifting along behind her dreamily. His face broke into a wide grin at the sight of his girlfriend. She returned his smile before launching herself at him.
There was something about the way Ginny hugged that warmed Harry instantly, and he buried his nose in her neck to savour the embrace. Cuddling, Harry had decided, was one of the things in life that no one should have to live without. Kissing of course was also on the list. As were many other things that Harry looked forward to doing with Ginny. But that would be after she had graduated. Harry wanted to give her plenty of time. He wanted to make sure she was comfortable and he wanted everything to be just right. Perfect for Ginny.
"Where were you all night?" She pulled back to meet his gaze. "Hermione's been chewing people out all morning! I think she's worried about you."
"I'd better skip breakfast and go on up." Harry glanced guiltily up the stairs. "I'll see you later?"
"Mmm. I'm meeting mum early." Ginny said. "She wants to have meals with the family on the weekends, so she'll be at our table when you come down for lunch." She flashed a smile and planted a chaste kiss on Harry's lips. "So where were you anyway?"
"I fell asleep." He replied a little sheepishly.
"Oh, I hope you didn't spend the night out by the lake." Luna said, widening her eyes at him. "It's the Gurglepod fondling season, you know."
"Um… No." Harry shook his head with a smile. "I fell asleep in the dungeons."
A small frown creased Ginny's brow. "That wouldn't have been much better. It's freezing down there at night now."
Harry shrugged. "It was alright. Anyway, I'd better catch up with Ron and Hermione. I'll see you at lunch?"
"Okay." She kissed again, this time lingering her goodbye, and then turned with Luna to enter the Great Hall. A few feet away, Ernie gave Harry a knowing wink and strolled off after them.
The second Harry set foot in the common room he was accosted by Colin Creevey. The sixth year slapped him sharply on the back and yelled too loudly by his ear, announcing Harry's return to everyone in the room whether they cared or not.
Harry blushed despite himself.
Pansy glanced at him with a small crease between her brows as she passed, and Blaise gave him a hesitant nod before joining her, both of them exiting the portrait hole presumably on their way to breakfast.
Harry turned to watch them depart.
It had surprised Harry when Pansy Parkinson had turned up to the first DA meeting of the term last Monday night with Blaise, and to be truthful, he hadn't been happy about her presence to begin with.
The first thing she had done was to complain bitterly about the name of the group.
She had formally proposed (and then passed her own motion) that it needed changing. Then she unabashedly offered up "Quasi Requiters" as being a much more proactive (not to mention classier) name. The glares she had received for her trouble (the most deadly being that from Hermione) had failed to intimidate her into silence, indeed, she had continued to offer increasingly obscure 'alernatives' for the groups name. After much creasing of foreheads from the other members in the room, and snarky comments from Pansy about the "uninspired and sapless" name, Seamus had stood up, aimed his wand, and hit her with a silencing charm before Hermione (who had been steadily turning redder and was now visibly shaking) broke out of Ron's increasingly nervous hold and performed the unforgivable of her choosing on the pug-faced girl.
The name was not altered and Pansy had sulked. But as the meeting had worn on and the delegation of duties had been handed out, she had raised her arms and started waving them about irritatingly so that Harry had no other option but to remove the charm. First she pointedly scowled in Seamus's general direction and then she protested loudly (once again) because she hadn't been assigned any patrols.
On the Thursday, Pansy had taken her first shift partnered with Michael Corner. Michael hadn't been a very happy lad when they had returned to the common room, but he begrudgingly informed Harry that she had done an annoyingly thorough job of checking the halls.
So Pansy Parkinson, She-Slytherin and ex-girlfriend of Draco Malfoy, was now a member of the DA.
Things were definitely getting weird.
"Where have you been?"
Hermione must be in bossy mode, thought Harry as her voice cut through the room. She and Ron were standing in a small group of DA students crowded around a piece of parchment.
"I fell asleep." Harry said shortly. "What's this?" He asked.
"It's the new roster for 'Ginny-Minding'." Dean said wryly. "Luna and Ernie are with her until after breakfast. Then it's just me since Mrs. Weasley's here."
"I'm really grateful to you all for doing this." Harry looked at the people around him. Seamus and Dean waved their hands to dismiss Harry's thanks and Justin gave him a quick nod of assent.
"Er … can I speak to you two for a minute?" Harry caught his two best friends eyes. "Um … up in the room?" They nodded and Hermione gave the parchment to Dean.
"Its each persons job to make sure the next one on the list knows. Okay?" She said. Dean nodded and Harry left for his dorm room, Ron and Hermione trailing behind.
"What's up then?" Ron finally asked as he closed the door behind them. "Is this something to do with where you were last night?" He moved to his bed and plonked himself down on the edge of it next to Hermione, picking up her hand and encasing it between his palms. Harry leaned against his bedpost.
"Yeah. There's something I have to tell you." He began tentatively. "I guess I haven't really been fair on you both to keep it a secret. I think you have the right to know. It concerns you after all. But er … don't get mad alright? I feel bad enough for keeping it from you in the first place."
As expected, Ron's eyebrows lifted marginally, but Harry was surprised to see the colour completely drain from Hermione's face.
Mildly alarmed, Harry pulled himself off the bedpost. "Are you okay, Hermione?"
Her eyes glazed over and her fingers gripped Ron's hand so tightly, he yelped.
Ron leaned forward inspecting her face. "Hermione? What?" He placed an arm around her shoulders.
She swallowed, avoiding their gazes. "N-nothing. I-I. I'm just worried about you, Harry. That's all." She sniffed deeply and lifted her free hand, pressing the back of it to her nose in an effort to quell the tears that were rapidly pooling in her eyes. She glanced quickly at Ron. "Y-you know what he's like." She babbled on hastily. "Always getting into trouble. E-especially when one of us isn't around to keep an eye on him."
Harry studied her fidgeting, and when she continued to avoid his gaze he moved to stand in front of her. "Hermione. What's really the matter?"
She looked at him almost pleadingly and the tears finally overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. "I jus-just worry about you. You've been through so much…" she hiccoughed and stared at the hands wringing madly in her lap. "Its just not fair that it's al-always you Harry." Her voice was sounding broken and more desperate as she went on. "It-Its just… its not-not fair that it always has to be you…"
"Heyyy." Ron pulled her into a hug as she trailed off choking down sobs. He tucked her head under his chin and awkwardly patted her back. "Shh. It's alright." Her shoulders shook as she now cried freely into Ron's chest, clinging to him as he comforted her.
Harry watched on, frozen. Stunned at Hermione's outburst, which had contained rather hurtful truths.
It was like an unspoken agreement between the three of them. They didn't discuss issues that were pointless and upsetting. They didn't dwell on things that they couldn't do anything about. But suddenly Hermione was sobbing her heart out over Harry's life.
And it unsettled him greatly.
Hermione was cracking the walls of their carefully constructed damn. Chiselling at the stone that held all of the bad feelings at bay. A small leak like this could undo everything. Unleash all of the pain so carefully vaulted away and bring it cascading into the open. Harry could not deal with all of that right now. There was still more to do. He couldn't afford to be smashed against his nightmares as the damn burst. That would leave him broken and useless. He couldn't stop now.
"… Mate."
Harry blinked and looked at Ron.
Ron was watching Harry, full of concern. "She's just been working too hard." He said soothingly. "Don't take it to heart."
Hermione raised her head, sniffing and wiping at the dampness on her face. "I-I'm sorry." She said wetly. "Ron's right." Gathering herself and pulling at the last of the moisture on her cheeks she stood up and gave Harry a firm squeeze. "I'm so sorry Harry. I didn't mean what I said. Everything's fine. Really."
Harry raised his arms with uncertainty to hug her back, still feeling like he had been hit by half a dozen bludgers at once. Hermione continued to squeeze Harry for all he was worth. Then finally she pulled back.
"So." She said briskly, sliding in beside Ron again, still sniffling but looking all business. "What were you going to tell us?"
"Yeah," Ron said. "What really happened last night?"
Harry took a deep breath, trying to put the last few minutes out of his mind. "Right. Well. Like I said … I don't want you to get angry, so I'm warning you up front you're not going to like it. Okay?"
The two of them nodded, having no other option but to agree. So Harry started his story.
He told them everything about Snape. About his role on Halloween and his request that it stay between them, and then he related to them everything Snape had divulged when he last dropped in on Harry. He then went on to tell them about Draco Malfoy and the previous night. By the time Harry had finished, he had successfully fielded most of their questions. Ron's initial angry shock that Harry had been interacting with Snape proved quite disruptive until Hermione's impatience to hear the rest of the story won out. Hermione's annoyance at the risk Harry had taken fizzled too at the mention of Malfoy's mission.
Of course, they immediately informed Harry that they were accompanying him to his meeting with Malfoy on Sunday night, but Harry stopped them in their tracks. Whatever Malfoy was using to avoid detection (Hermione, suggesting it may be an invisibility cloak that was also unplottable) would prove more than adequate to escape them and Harry knew there was no way the Slytherin would go along with it if Ron and Hermione were there. Eventually it was agreed upon that Harry would go alone – if only to view the pensieve. Any further searching for the item they would do together.
Afterwards, they wandered down to the Great Hall for lunch and sat at the Gryffindor table as Mrs. Weasley, flanked by a blushing Pete on one side and Ginny on the other, regaled the other students with stories of some of her surprisingly mischievous years at Hogwarts. She was flushed with colour and had a sparkle to her eyes, and had everyone guffawing and gasping so often that even Professor Sprout, who hadn't been her usual self since Halloween, joined in.
The pudding plates had vanished long before the crowd finally broke up and Mrs. Weasley retired to her quarters with Ginny and Dean to have afternoon tea. Ron and Hermione settled on one of the common room couches by the fire with their books in hand, and Harry retreated to his bed, deciding it would be a good opportunity to catch up on some missed sleep.
As he shifted around looking for the most comfortable position for his overly full stomach Harry wondered if Malfoy had had any lunch.
When Harry appeared in the Great Hall for dinner he was not particularly hungry, so it was a bit of a non-event. It was past seven thirty when Harry sat down at a study table in the library with Ginny to research his transfiguration homework. His full body transformations were successful almost every time now, only small details like colour or texture ever differed slightly from what he was aiming for.
Ginny flicked through her Herbology text as Harry got up and went to the shelves. He fingered along the spines and pulled out a small, soft leather book and returned to his seat. He by-passed the index and went straight to page 111.
"Why are you reading that?"
Harry looked up from the page he had previously left off. Ginny had set her book down and had her head tilted, reading the title 'Boor to Beast'. Harry shrugged.
"Just interested." He answered. "I think I would like being an animagus. It would be handy if… " Harry trailed off. He thought it would have been a great advantage if he were an auror. But he had stopped kidding himself that that was ever going to happen.
"If what?" She pressed, leaning forward.
"I don't know. I just like the idea of being able to transform into a creature, you know?"
"It'd be handy for when you're an auror too."
Harry looked back at the book. "It would still be good. Even if I can't be an auror."
"You will be a formidable auror, Harry." Ginny took the book from his grip and closed it. "You told me once that McGonagall said she was going to help you become one - if it was the last thing she ever did." Her lips curved into an amused grin.
Harry leaned back in his chair. He sighed as he lifted his hands behind his head. "I just can't see it happening, Gin. I'm already two subjects short and the ones I am taking I'm so far behind in that I'd be lucky to avoid Trolls in any of them. I know she meant it at the time, but the NEWTS are only months away now."
"Harry." Ginny said. "We are talking McGonagall." As if that explained everything. "She knows that you're busy with other things. I'd bet my last knut that she has something sorted for you."
Harry smiled and leaned across the table so he was only inches from Ginny's face. "You're right. We are talking McGonagall, aren't we?" He closed the gap between them and kissed her lightly; letting his lips linger far longer than necessary. "You are a smart young lady, Ginny Weasley. Oh. That reminds me," He said, pulling back to rest against his chair again and crossing his arms over his chest. "How come you didn't tell me you did so well in your OWLS?"
Ginny's eyebrows shot up. She sat back as well, colour flushing up her cheeks. "How do you know about that?"
"Lupin told me." He frowned at her. Why was she so embarrassed?
"Oh." She said flatly. "Listen Harry. What I am about to tell you is something that I'm not at all proud of, and I have every intention of telling McGonagall too at the end of the year, but until then, I need you to keep it quiet."
Harry nodded, his frown deepening.
"Well." Ginny kept her eyes on the table. "Keeping in mind how difficult it was to sit exams last year. Well … after Dumbledore's death, and … everything you had to go through … and then our break-up," She took a deep breath and let it out again as if bracing for something. "How do I say this? Oh hell. FredandGeorgegavemeWizWonderMallows…" She darted her eyes up to Harry's. "And… I used them."
"They gave you what?" Harry uncrossed his arms and sat forward.
"They offered me a bunch of Weasley Wiz-Wonder-Mallows, more than enough to eat one before each OWL paper I sat, and so I did … take them, I mean. But I haven't used any since!"
Ginny's blush renewed itself with gusto under Harry's intense stare.
"They were only trying to help," She rushed on. "And the magic was only supposed to be mild. Oh Harry, I was such a mess at the funeral after we broke up. Everything just came crushing down on me in one hit and you weren't there and Fred and George found me blubbering under the Quidditch stands and I was scared and they only wanted to help."
Ginny watched as Harry sighed, shook his head slowly and stood. Her eyes glistened with panic and moisture. She twisted her fingers together as Harry walked around the table and grabbed the chair beside her. He sat down and pulled her hands towards him, leaning in so her forehead rested on his shoulder.
"I should have known your brothers had something to do with it." He said dryly, smoothing her hair gently with one hand.
Ginny lifted her head reluctantly. "They meant well, Harry."
"So what are these Wiz-Wonder-Mallows then?" He asked quietly.
"They're marshmallows." She said. "Er … obviously." She added at Harry's wry look. "Their magic is not supposed to help you cheat … as such, which is why they couldn't be picked up by the examiners, they're only supposed to help you shut out everything that isn't relative to what you're doing so you can pull on everything you have learned about whatever it is you're concentrating on. That way you're at your peak of whatever you are capable of. But… it seems that they were quite a bit more successful than expected."
"What are you going to say to McGonagall? Do you want me to go with you?"
"The truth. Fred and George insisted on coming with me too. They wanted to take the full blame but I'm the one who used them so… that wouldn't be right. Still, if I get expelled, Fred and George said they'd set me up in the old Zonko's when it's ready to open. Once the trouble dies down." She smiled, but didn't look too happy all the same. "They said it would be my place."
Harry brushed his thumb lightly on her cheek. "I don't think McGonagall would expel anyone for doing something out of character at the end of last year. Still, running a joke shop could be fun. You could have extra long lunches with me when I can get to Hogsmeade to visit."
Ginny beamed and raked her hand through Harry's silky black mop. "You are wonderful. You know that? Are you horribly disappointed in me?"
Harry gazed into her vivid green depths. "No." He said simply.
Their lips connected again, and Harry thought her kisses tasted like peaches and cherry blossom. They went back to studying for a couple of hours, before eventually leaving for the common room. Ginny retreated to bed and Harry glanced around at the students who were lounging around the room, finding an odd mix of Hufflepuff, Gryffindors and Slytherins, before climbing the stairs to his own room.
The social dynamics in the common room had actually settled into a less violent routine by the end of last term, and surprisingly had somehow morphed over the holidays so that it was positively benign at times now. Harry would never have believed it possible at the beginning of his seventh year and as he headed upstairs to offload his bag he passed by the locked doors and wondered if it was time to open them again. Strangely, no one had even requested they be opened since Halloween.
Harry decided it wouldn't be wise to fix something that wasn't broken.
He realised he was hungry as he dumped his bag on the floor by the bed. He plonked himself down and started to remove his jacket, but then changed his mind and opened the bedside draw, grabbing the purple potion of Julie's out. He held it up to the light, saw it was still almost a quarter full, and shoved the crystal bottle into his jacket pocket before heading back down the stairs. He walked over to Ron and Hermione whom he'd spotted on his way in curled up together in an oversized armchair. Ron was fast asleep with his head tilted back and his mouth hanging open. Hermione, of course, had her nose in a book.
"I'm going to the kitchens to get something to eat." Harry half-whispered once he was near them. Hermione looked up at him. "Do you want me to bring anything back?"
She smiled and shook her head. "No thanks." She rolled her eyes in Ron's direction. "I'll be doing the lockup soon anyway. Ron volunteered to keep me company so you don't have to worry about rounds tonight."
"Oh." Harry was beginning to see this thing between his two best friends might actually have fringe benefits. "Tell him I said thanks, will you?" Hermione nodded and Harry left for the kitchens.
Harry was surrounded by eager elves as he stood in the kitchen. He smiled nervously and requested a tray of left overs enough for two to take with him. His jacket pockets were being stuffed with sweets and cakes by those elves not fetching sandwiches and legs of chicken while he waited. Dobby came out of the cluster of elves and threw himself awkwardly at Harry's leg and clung there adoringly.
"Harry Potter has come to see Dobby!" The elf squeaked as tears brimmed his enormous pale green eyes.
"Er …" Harry said, his eyes flicking over the elf's attire.
Dobby had something that looked like a mangy dead cat on his head, a glittering silver boobtube on his torso, and a purple and yellow tartan kilt complete with sporran. His hands and feet were wrapped thickly in dirty rags and old tea towels.
"Dobby, are you okay?"
"Dobby is pleased to see you, Sir!" Dobby said wondrously as if it were obvious. Harry very gently pried the little elf off his leg and squatted as the other elves began shuffling away.
"It's good to see you too." Harry frowned. "Where's Kreacher?"
Dobby dithered, his expression turning guilty and then said barely audibly. "Kreacher is serving his false Master, Sir."
"Who is…?" Harry hesitated. "Do you mean Malfoy? Is Kreacher with Draco?"
The elf bowed his head. "Yes Sir." He said quietly. "Dobby knows young Master Malfoy is Harry Potter's enemy but the young Master…"
"What?"
"The young Master is fevered, Sir. He is fading. Dobby could not let him fade, Sir. The young Master was once my Family." The little elf's words tumbled over one another in his haste as he stared at his covered hands. " Dobby would never forgive himself–"
"Dobby," Harry soothed as he placed hand on the elf's skinny shoulder. "Its okay. Just tell me what's going on."
Dobby looked pleadingly at Harry. "Dobby has seen when Master Malfoy screams and burns. The young Master does not bare well the darkness in him. Dobby feels he needs to help. Dobby is letting Kreacher sneak food. But young Master Malfoy does not eat. The food comes back." Dobby's distress leaked down his wrinkled cheeks. "Says it's poisoned. Doesn't trust Kreacher or Dobby. Even the young Miss cannot help him. Dobby does not know what to do. If the–"
"Whoa… Back up." Harry interrupted. "What 'young Miss'?"
Dobby's eyes went wide in horror. "Dobby is not supposed to be speaking of that!" He breathed. The elf promptly picked up the nearest thing he could get his hands on, (a rather large old silver tea pot) and moved to bang it against his forehead in earnest, but Harry reached out speedily and grabbed it from his grip.
"Who else knows he's here, Dobby?"
The little elf hobbled on his feet, shifting his weight nervously but didn't speak or look Harry in the eye.
"Dobby."
"She said she would cut Dobby's ears off and put them in Harry Potters stew if I told." He squeaked.
"No she won't. Who ever she is. I promise you Dobby. Tell me who."
The elf winced. "Miss Parkinson, Sir."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Pansy?"
"Yes Sir." Dobby squeaked urgently, and continued on hurriedly. "Dobby wanted to tell Harry Potter. Dobby punishes hiself but cannot say anything. Master Malfoy has not hurt anyone else, Sir. Only hiself. And Miss Parkinson made Dobby swear and she is a Mistress of Hogwarts..."
"Don't worry about it." Harry said distractedly, before concentrating on the elf again. "Dobby. You are not to punish yourself anymore. Do you hear me? No matter what happens. Do you understand? No more feeling guilty, okay?"
"Yes Sir." Dobby replied sadly.
"All right. Leave it to me." Harry said slowly and rose to stand again. "You should go and see Madame Pomphrey about those." He added, nodding at Dobby's injuries.
"Oh no, Sir." Dobby said in surprise. "Dobby is having much worse under his old Master."
Just then three elves came bustling up balancing a tray loaded with enough food for half a dozen people. Harry took off the leg of ham and one or two other things, handing them back to one of the elves with an apologetic grin, and grimaced at Dobby.
"I really think you should go to Madame Pomphrey. Maybe I should order you to go?"
"Dobby is having un-indaba soon."
"What's that?"
"To help, Sir. Dobby is having his third un-indaba." The elf fumbled with his sporren looking inordinately pleased with himself.
"Oh. Right. Er… Good." Harry said, not having a clue as to what un-indaba was but imagining it was most likely some sort of herb or potion with healing properties.
He left the kitchens carrying the tray of leftovers and headed for the dungeons.
Harry whispered the password to the stone wall, which opened into the Slytherin common room. He looked around for the reason he had come as he walked stiffly into the room, the stone wall closing behind him.
The room looked exactly as it had when he'd entered it the last time. But there was no sign of Malfoy. Harry walked over to the coffee table setting the tray down before heading towards the door he had seen the other boy emerge from. It was slightly ajar, so Harry eased it open a little more, cringing at the slight creak it made, and slipped through it. He walked lightly, not wanting to alert Malfoy to the fact that he was here until he could see the Slytherin face to face, knowing the blonde would likely don his invisibility cloak or whatever. Harry didn't want to entertain the thought of coming all this way just to get snubbed.
There were doors lining the snugly curved, barely lit passageway, and Harry gently tried the handle of each one as he went, but none opened. The corridor then curved in the opposite direction as he continued, but still no sign of Malfoy. It was impossible to see very far ahead in the 'S' shaped passageway and abruptly Harry came upon the end. The door facing him was the same as all the ones he'd passed with one exception. This door was open. A narrow plume of light splayed out from the narrow gap into the corridor.
Harry took a deep breath and pushed the door gently inwards, taking a tentative step into the room.
Then he stilled.
In his peripheral vision, he registered the blur of Malfoy standing just behind the door so he swung his head round to meet the other boy. Harry saw the flicker of relief that flashed across the pointy face.
Malfoy had his arm stretched out rigidly in front of him, his wand hovering inches from Harry's nose.
"Do you want to die?" Malfoy's angry voice ground out.
Harry relaxed slightly. "Stop big-noting yourself and put that wand down, Malfoy. I didn't come here to start anything." That wasn't entirely true, but Malfoy didn't need to know that.
"Why are you here? I said tomorrow night, moron." The Slytherin sneered.
Harry was gazing at the tip of the boy's wand, partially hypnotized as it wavered in front of his face, drifting slowly to and fro. Harry dragged his eyes away to peer at the Slytherin properly.
The first thing he noticed was that the boy's normally pale cheeks were flushed with colour. Also, his usually taught mouth was open a small way, his lips red, wet and slack, and he had a glazed look in his eyes. His blonde hair was tussled and his clothes wrinkled like he'd just got out of bed and he was swaying gently where he stood. It occurred to Harry that the boy might really have a fever, and that the house elf hadn't just been referring to the same thing Harry had seen.
But then Harry saw the bottle clutched in Malfoy's other hand that hung by his leg. Its label indicated that it was a bottle of Ogden's Finest.
And it was three-quarters empty.
"You're drunk." Harry said flatly.
"I. Do not. Get. Drunk. Potter!" The Slytherin snorted in disgust. "Its for medicinal purposes." He slurred the last words.
"Right. Fine. Whatever." Harry sighed. "I've brought some food. Looks like you could do with something to eat."
"I'm not hungry. And even if I was I wouldn't take food from you!" Malfoy sneered.
"Well I am. So you can either join me, or watch me eat." Harry didn't wait for a response, just took out his wand and summoned the tray of food. A loud echoing clatter rang out soon after from the other end of the passage and Harry winced and waited for the probably now empty tray to reach him. It soared into view still loaded with food. Harry grabbed it and looked at it in surprise.
"I spelled the acoustics."
Harry looked at the other boy who had finally lowered his wand.
Malfoy raised a snarky eyebrow. "You sounded like a herd of hippogriffs." He turned away from Harry, swaggering as he walked.
The room was almost triangular and the two longer walls were lined with beds arranged in unusal ways to best fit the impractical shape. One of the smaller walls had a large iron fireplace in the middle of it with a small but comfortable carpeted area with large flat rectangular green and silver cushions surrounding it.
Malfoy set himself down on one of the cushions and leaned back against a nearby bedpost, drawing his knees up loosely and resting his wrists atop them. He lifted the bottle to his mouth and tilting his head back, tipped some of the amber liquid down his throat.
Harry followed the Slytherin and set the tray down on the floor between them, lowering himself onto a cushion and leaning against the opposite bedpost, acutely aware of the other boy's half-lidded gaze on him.
He felt thoroughly self-conscious being scrutinized and couldn't bring himself to eat, so he stretched over the tray and swiped the bottle from Malfoy's grasp. The Slytherin only watched as Harry settled back, tilted the bottle and then swallowed a much larger gulp of Firewhiskey than he'd intended.
Harry then coughed and spluttered and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand. When he looked up through watery eyes the Slytherin was smirking at him.
"Let me guess. First time?"
"No!" Harry rasped, annoyed at suddenly feeling a little bit pathetic. He took another swig to prove a point and then handed the bottle back to Malfoy. "Where did you get it anyway?"
"Unlike most students in this Palace of Pueriles, I conquered puberty long ago." The Slytherin took another swig.
Harry watched as the other boy brought the bottle to rest. "You stole it. Didn't you?"
Cold eyes settled on Harry. "It must be debilitating to be so righteous all of the time." Malfoy sneered. "I bet when you're wandering obliviously around with your head held higher than everyone else's, you're thinking about the next undeserving soul you will save."
Harry closed his eyes briefly, tilting his head back to rest on the bedpost. "I can't save anyone." He said resignedly. "As you have so thoughtfully pointed out." He lifted his head forward and raked a hand through his black mop. "I try... But it either doesn't work out ... or I make things worse."
"Then why are you here?" The other boy asked tonelessly.
The question surprised Harry. He hesitated before answering. "Well, firstly. I thought you might be hungry." The Slytherin gave a doubtful scoff. "And secondly. I thought you might want some company." Harry avoided the other boy's gaze. "Later."
Malfoy's expression went stony. "I told you." He said darkly. "I don't need your help."
"Yeah, well … you could still have something to eat." Harry said wearily. "You look like death warmed up."
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Charming."
Harry picked tentatively at the food as the Slytherin took another swig. After the first couple of mouthfuls he began to appreciate just how long it had been since he'd eaten.
"Do you miss flying?" Harry asked around a mouthful of cheese and pumpkin bread.
Malfoy looked up from watching Harry's hands at work and rolled his eyes. "What do you think?"
"I do." Harry went on, ignoring the blonde and picking up a carrot stick. "Not the Quidditch though. ...Strange that." He frowned. "I guess its because I can't really think about it right now. But flying. Just soaring through the air … I miss that."
Harry raised his eyebrows as a thought occurred to him. "I suppose I could take the Firebolt out tomorrow. Head down to the Quidditch pitch after lunch for an hour or so…" He trailed off at the bitter look on Malfoy's face. "Sorry." He said quietly.
"Don't let me drag you down, Potter." The Slytherin said bitterly. "Merlin forbid if the 'Chunderous One' doesn't get to fluff about on his broomstick tomorrow afternoon."
"Do you sit around just thinking up insulting names for me?" Harry asked impatiently.
"Yes." Malfoy said proudly. "Got loads more. Want to hear them?" He asked, not waiting to hear the answer. "Let's see." He looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. "There's the 'Churlish One', 'The Bogey which Loitered', 'Chipmunk's Bum'. That's one Goyle came up with. Then there's the 'Chivalrous One'." His voice dripping with sarcasm. " 'The Bragger that Lacked–"
"Malfoy!"
"Oh, and my personal favourite, 'The Buttocks What Loosened'." The Slytherin smirked. " That one is self explanatory and particularly useful. Then there's 'The Blunderer–"
"ENOUGH!"
Malfoy chuckled softly through his smirk.
"Potter. What are you doing?"
"Making a sandwich."
"Out of herrings and musk sticks?"
"Why not?"
"…"
"Try some."
"Do you want me to vomit up what little I have eaten?"
"No… Look… Juss… Give it here. You don't do it like that un-unless you want the lining of your throat dissholved."
"Malfoy. Where did that second bottle come from?"
"Now watch…...…ssee? No after… … no aft… …no problem."
"All right. I think you've had enough. Let me try."
"I'll have you know, Potter. I will still be standing–"
"Sitting."
"What? Oh. I will still be 'sitting'… when you are l…lying in a p-hool of your own vomit."
"Thanks for sharing that image."
"…The 'Cheesey One', 'The Blemish That Lurked', the 'Chunderous One', 'The Botcher–"
"You ssaid that one already."
"...What?"
" 'Chunderous One'. Tha… that was the firss one you called me."
"Don't interrupt."
"…"
" 'The By-gone That Lingered', the 'Childish One', 'The Boy Who Blunders'…
"Draco?"
"What?"
"I feel ssick."
"Well you should have stopped three quarters of an hour ago. When I did."
"You had a … a head sstart."
"Of roughly three and a half years by the look of it. I thought you said you'd had Firewhiskey before?"
"I hah-ave. For medicing...medish… When I was ssick."
"Well, once you stop drinking you sober up pretty fast."
"Oh good. …Uuuuuur."
"Do not throw up in my sleeping quarters! If you're going to live up to your pet name then do it in the bathroom."
"I think… bathroom..."
"…"
"Oopssy Daisy!"
"Oh… For Merlin's sake, Potter. Pull yourself together."
"..."
"Here. Give me your hand."
"So what happens now?" Harry asked, leaning against the bedpost. Both of them were back in their original positions after returning from the bathroom. (An experience Harry would prefer to forget.)
Malfoy sighed. "What do you mean?"
"Tomorrow night. What happens when we find what we're both looking for?"
Malfoy leaned his elbows on his knees and placed his head in his hands. His fingers scrunched through his hair. "Exactly what was always going to happen."
Harry breathed in deeply and then let it out long and slow. "I don't want to fight you Malfoy."
"It'll happen anyway."
The Slytherin glanced at the squat old clock on the mantelpiece. "Its time for you to leave."
Harry looked at the hands that pointed to a quarter to twelve and shook his head and regretted it instantly as it swam dangerously. "I'm staying."
Malfoy stood up and looked down at Harry stonily. "No. You're not."
Harry closed his eyes briefly and then picked himself up off the floor. "Here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fistful of sweets, spilling some onto the floor.
Malfoy scowled and was about to say something when Harry finally removed the small crystal bottle of purple-black liquid. Harry held it out for Malfoy to take.
Malfoy eyed it cautiously.
"It's a healing potion. A health Tonic." Harry explained.
Malfoy shook his head. "No."
Harry shoved it into the Slytherin whose hands came around it automatically. "Take it. Seven drops with water. I've been taking it for ages and it works brilliantly."
"It doesn't look like any healing potion I know." Malfoy sneered at it. "Did you just throw it together out of scraps?"
"No, it was made by a healer in Hogsmeade. She's really gifted, Malfoy. Just… just trust me and use it."
The other boy pulled out the stopper and sniffed at it. He screwed his face up and then sniffed again. He returned the stopper and held it out to Harry with a blank look on his face.
"What?"
"I'm not taking that." The Slytherin said.
"Why not?"
"Its contains danomdipartite. Amongst other things."
"So?"
"You don't ingest danomdipartite if you like breathing." Malfoy said tonelessly.
Harry frowned and took the bottle. "...But..."
"Tomorrow. A quarter to ten. Don't be late."
Harry replaced the bottle in his pocket. "Sure."
As he headed back to the Gryffindor tower, Harry tried to think of a way that would make tomorrow not as inevitable as Malfoy had said. But he couldn't come up with a single way of avoiding the confrontation that would follow, if not as soon as they had seen the memory, then as soon as they found the Horcrux.
And it made Harry's already queasy stomach churn.
He didn't want to fight Malfoy. Not like this.
The arguments and skirmishes they'd had in the past were going to be nothing compared to their final battle. This time the stakes were much higher.
They were competing for the same short-term objective. Needing one another to achieve it, yet as always, on opposing sides.
In the end, one of them would lose everything.
And one would claim the prize.
But at what price?
Harry decided that maybe this was a game neither of them could win.