Mousetrap By Clay Chapter One: A Shot of Whiskey and a Goodnight Kiss PAIRINGS: Mainly Harry/Draco and Ron/Hermione, but there are some other random pairings thrown in for fun WARNING: slight spoilers for all books "Fifty points from Griffindor!" Severus Snape snarled over the backdrop of snickering Slytherins. "And," he continued, voice low and deadly, "if I ever catching you helping Mr. Longbottom on another test, it will be detention for a week." He paused, eyes dropping to where Neville sat trembling, his potion a ghastly bubbling pink. "As for now… Mr. Longbottom will receive a zero for this test. Miss Granger, however," his eyes swung back to Hermione, a cruel smile on his lips, "you may save your grade by testing Mr. Longbottom's potion." Hermione looked from her cauldron and the cooling white serenity potion and then back to Neville's before meeting Snape's gaze. He still wore a smile as he handed her a long handled silver spoon. Hermione could feel every eye on her; she ignored Ron's whispered pleas and, battling between good sense and academic standing, dipped the spoon into Neville's cauldron. As the liquid cooled, it changed from pink to a blood red, and with a silent prayer that no Hogwarts teacher would willingly harm a student, she lifted the spoon to her lips. The potion was warm and sweet sliding down her throat, leaving in its wake a pleasant burning. She suddenly felt lightheaded, intoxicated and drowsy. Her arms and legs grew heavy and she was so very tried. Breathing a chuckle, Hermione leaned forward and captured Snape's lips in a chaste kiss before passing out. "Hermione!" Ron surged forward, catching her as she began to slide off the table just as Harry bolted up beside him. "What did you do to her?" Harry practically screamed, barely repressed anger finally breaking free. Snape turned to him, all traces of humor gone. "Five more points from Griffindor. Now calm yourself, Mr. Potter. Visibly seething, Harry forced himself to sit. He watched Ron and Neville fuss over the unconscious Hermione. Her cheeks were flushed, but at least her breathing seemed normal. Slightly more in control, Harry once again addressed Snape. "What did she drink? What was that potion?" "Nothing dangerous. It should wear off by this evening unless aggravated." "How is it aggravated?" But Snape ignored him, turning his back on the class to sweep towards his desk. "Mr. Longbottom. If you wish to pass potions this year, I suggest you turn in an essay by next Monday detailing the correct way to brew a serenity potion, what you did wrong, and exactly what potion you did create. No less than thirty six inches. Time is up. Bottle your potions and leave them on my desk. Class dismissed." Harry took it upon himself to bottle his two best friend's potions and clean up the desks while Ron and Neville escorted Hermione to the hospital wing. By the time his bag was packed, it was only he and Snape left in the room. "Professor?" Snape was seated at his desk, swabbing his forehead with a pale green cloth and apparently lost in thought. Harry had to repeat himself twice before Snape glanced up, scowling. "What now, Mr. Potter?" "I was just wondering if you could tell me what potion Hermione drank?" Snape stared at him a moment, eyes glazed and unfocused before he shook his head and continued to wipe beads of sweat from his brow. "Obviously not. That is for Mr. Longbottom to discover… on his own." "Yes, Professor." Harry grumbled and started out of the room. Just as his hand touched the knob, however, he turned back, curiosity getting the better of him. "Professor? Are you all right?" Snape's eyes were downcast as he answered, "Fine, Potter, now leave." Harry gave a mental shrug. If Snape didn't want his help, there was little he could do. Besides, if he became too sick to teach, it would be fine with him. ………………… Hermione contemplated the white ceiling for over a minute before she realized she was in the infirmary. She felt slightly feverish, yet strangely refreshed. Part of her was extremely antsy, fighting the growing urge to get up and move, while her more rational side was attempting to piece together what exactly had happened. She had been in Potions and helping Neville against her better judgment. They had been caught, she drank the potion, and— "Oh my God!" She bolted upright, "I'm missing Care of Magical Creatures!" "Hermione!" Ron was immediately at her side, arms wrapped around her in a fierce hug. "We were so worried." "But I'm missing Care of Magical Creatures!" "It's already over." Harry smiled gently from his seat at the foot of the bed. "But we took notes and everything!" Ron grinned triumphantly. "And Hagrid says he hopes you feel better," Harry added. "What is all this noise!" Madam Pomfrey had appeared wearing her most deadly scowl, which quickly changed to a smile as she caught sight of Hermione. "Ah! Miss Granger, you're awake. How do you feel?" She bustled forward, placing one motherly hand on Hermione's forehead. "I feel fine." "Well," Madam Pomfrey extricated her hand, "You're still a bit feverish, but nothing some good old fashioned bed rest won't take care of. You're free to go." "But what about—" Madam Pomfrey cut Ron off with a wave of her hand. "That potion you mentioned? Nothing more than a simple sleeping draught, I'm sure. Now get on with you; I have more patients to take care of." The three were hurried out into the corridor, and Harry and Ron started off for the Great Hall. "Thank Merlin you're all right, Hermione," Ron smiled, "We were really worried about you." But Hermione didn't answer. The boys turned around to see that she hadn't moved; her eyes were locked on the floor, brow furrowed, deep in thought. "Hermione?" Harry stepped forward cautiously. Hermione looked up, first into his eyes and then Ron's. Her voice was somehow relaxed and urgent at the same time, "That was no sleeping draught." "But Madam Pomfrey said—" "Madam Pomfrey is wrong," Hermione insisted. "She didn't see it. The potion I took was pink; sleeping potions are clear." "Maybe there's more than one kind?" Ron offered. Hermione considered that for a moment before replying, "I'm sure that's true, but I still don't think I took a sleeping draught." She held up a hand, counting on her fingers as she continued, "I mean, I have a fever, my thoughts seem very muddled, and…" she frowned suddenly as a certain memory came rushing back, "and I kissed Snape." Both Ron and Harry mirrored her look of disgust. "True…." Harry replied. But Ron broke into their thoughts with a desperate plea, "I'm sure they're just the aftereffects of a screwed up potion: too much chamomile or something. Come on guys, even if Snape is a horrid git, he'd never try and hurt us. He's still a teacher." "Also true," Harry nodded. "Besides," Ron begged, "I'm hungry and dinner's almost over." "Maybe…." Hermione was still looking anxious. Harry gave a weak grin, "Well then, let's continue this over dinner." Hermione shook her head, "I think I'll go lie down, actually. You two go ahead." Harry groaned and rolled his eyes, "All right, but I'm going with you. If we leave you alone, you'll end up in the library." Hermione bit back a curse and mumbled her assent. "But," she added, "I want Ron to take me." Harry considered arguing the point, wondering if Hermione thought it easier to ditch Ron than himself, but arguing would just take up time, and dinner was ending soon, and, he thought, slightly miffed, Hermione would just win anyway. "Fine." And with that he spun on his heel and stalked off. Ron groaned. "Let's make it quick. I'm starving." Hermione couldn't help but grin as she started off for Griffindor tower. The strangest idea had just popped into her head…. ………………… Deep in the dungeon and hidden behind a pile of second year essays, Professor Snape moaned as his stomach gave a growl of protest. He was missing dinner, but it was a sacrifice he had to make. If only he could keep away from people – away from temptation – for the rest of the evening he'd be fine. If only that brat, Granger, hadn't kissed him. It had already gotten so bad that he'd had to cancel his last class of the day. If he could remember how to concoct the antidote, this wouldn't be such a problem. After all these years, he could recognize nearly any potion by its look or smell. Unfortunately he hadn't come across this one in years. Students rarely had need of it, especially considering that it was much easier to down a mug or two of mulled ale. The antidote was around here somewhere, Snape knew, throwing a bitter look at the wall of books that faced his desk, but his fuzzy brain wouldn't let him remember where. He's spent a good amount of time between classes searching through shelf after shelf to no avail. And now he was just too damned tired to continue. With a frustrated sigh, he opened the bottom left hand drawer of his desk where a shot glass and a half empty bottle of Ogden's Old Fire Whiskey sat in case of an emergency. Halfway through pouring his first glass, Snape was startled by a knock on the door. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Snape knew that he should put the alcohol away. After all, he was still technically on duty until after hours, and even then he should remain sober. Mentally flipping that thought the bird, he swallowed the shot before croaking, "What?" A slight hesitation and then the sickly sweet and somewhat nasal voice of Pansy Parkinson filtered through the heavy oak, "Professor?" "Yeah?" Snape replied, leisurely pouring another glass. "I'm here about the extra credit? May I come in?" He was about to belt out the first nasty thing that came to mind when an evil thought took over his tongue. "Yes, of course." He knew it was the potion talking, but he didn't care. He knew that was due to the potion as well, but by the time the sixteen-year-old girl stepped into his office, all rational thought had disappeared. Pansy wasn't the prettiest girl, but she was developing nicely. Snape eyed the curves evident through the thin material of her robes, and motioned for her to sit. She moved daintily, soft hair swinging lightly with each step. "A drink?" He asked, pulling another shot glass from his desk and filling it with whiskey. Pansy eyed him suspiciously before boldly replying "Yes" and removing the glass from his outstretched fingers. She watched him a moment and then leaned back to down the shot, grimacing slightly as it burned her throat. "Now then," Snape leaned forward, fingers steepled under his chin, "about that extra credit…." ………………… When Ron didn't show up for dinner, Harry was concerned, and when Ron wasn't in the common room, he was downright worried. If Ron had missed dinner, then something was wrong. If he wasn't waiting in the common room to let Harry in on it, then maybe something was very wrong. His thoughts went immediately to Hermione, and he briefly considered checking the girls' dorm before remembering what had happened last time he and Ron had tried that. He was opening his mouth to ask Parvati to do it for him when a scream rang out from the sixth year boys' room. Everyone in the common room went still and then Harry found himself in the middle of a unanimous mad dash up the stairs to where a very red Seamus was slowly backing away from the door. "What? What is it, mate?" Dean had reached him first and was shaking Seamus slightly, hands firmly on his shoulders. Seamus just pointed to the door, lips working soundlessly. Harry brushed past them and froze. Hermione stood in the center of the room, hands on her hips and glaring angrily. A thin white sheet was wrapped securely around her, and after a cursory glance from her bare shoulders to her equally bare ankles it became all too apparent that it was all she wore. Harry's eyes drifted from her to where Ron half hid behind the thick crimson drapes of his bed, also painfully naked. Hermione cleared her throat, drawing Harry's attention. In a voice filled with righteous indignation she demanded, "A little privacy, please?" Twenty minutes later Hermione was safely back in her own dormitory, and the entire male population of Griffindor tower save a few clueless first years had crowded into the room, anxiously awaiting the fiercely blushing Ron's story. In Harry's opinion, this should be a private moment reserved for the sixth years' ears only, but he knew that there was no way he could clear the room. That was definitely a Hermione caliber feat. "Well?" Dean pressed from his seat on Neville's bed, "Are we going to get details or do we have to threaten you with bodily harm first?" Ron actually smiled a huge, self-satisfied grin and said, "Of course I'll tell you." "Ron!" Harry hissed and was elbowed by the group of seventh and fifth years currently sharing his bed. Ron shrugged, "Well why not? What do you think Hermione is doing right now?" Words of encouragement bubbled up from every corner of the room and Ron straightened, motioning for quiet. He was obviously enjoying his moment in the spotlight. "Well by now I'm sure you've all heard of the incident in potions this morning. You know how Hermione fainted?" He paused as murmurs of accent rose up, and Harry was reminded of how fast gossip traveled at Hogwarts. "Well, I was escorting Hermione to her room just like any true gentleman would." At this Harry snorted and was promptly elbowed again. "When we arrived at the tower, she told me that she didn't want to be alone, and since I couldn't accompany her to the girls' dorm, I gallantly offered her the use of my bed." Harry rolled his eyes and promised to get the real story from Hermione tomorrow. "Well," and now Ron's voice lowered, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, "I turned around to fish a couple of chocolate frogs from my trunk, and when I turned back, there she was, half naked and sprawled out on the bed like a goddess. I got worried. I mean, it's just so… so unlike her. But she pulled me down and kissed me and… and it just happened." As Ron finished up the story, his voice had become soft, almost wistful, and Harry was suddenly genuinely happy for his two best friends. "You promised details!" Dennis Creevey reminded them all, but to Harry's immense relief, Ron was shaking his head, a slight smile on his lips. "No, I really couldn't do that to Hermione. You'll have to use your imagination." After a few more minutes of disgruntled pleas most of the boys gave up and left. Harry approached Ron just as he was tucking in. "Do you want to talk about this?" "Not tonight, Harry. I'm really tired." With a deep sigh, Harry turned to go, wondering how he'd ever keep his mind on his homework now. He decided he'd try anyway, but just as he reached the door Ron called out again. "Oh, and Seamus?" A few steps ahead of Harry, Seamus turned and poked his head back inside. "Yeah?" "Hermione said to tell you that since you saw her naked, she gets to see you." Chapter Two: The Morning After Draco checked the clock for the third time in twenty minutes and gave a slight growl of indignation. Pansy was supposed to have met him right after her meeting with Professor Snape. By now she was nearly two hours overdue, and he was practically livid. It's not that he cared for the girl. She was from a pure wizarding family, and he'd probably end up marrying her one day, but that had nothing to do with his feelings. At best her found her annoying, though a welcome distraction from the bourgeois life of a student. She could be shagging half of Slytherin and he wouldn't care. That wasn't what bothered him. What bothered him – what kept him waiting impatiently for two hours – was that he had been stood up. No one stood up a Malfoy! And certainly not a prissy little waste like Pansy Parkinson. So he'd sit and he'd wait until she walked through the door and find out exactly where she had been. At exactly twenty seven past ten, Pansy came swaggering into the Slytherin common room, her long blond hair mussed and robes slightly askew. In short, looking thoroughly shagged. There was still a good number of students hanging around at this hour, and Draco thought it best to avoid a scene, but, as usual, his anger got the best of him; he marched up to Pansy and took her roughly by the arm, grounding out in a harsh whisper, “Where have you been?” Pansy looked at him, eyes glazed and yet still finding a way to look dignified. “I was with Professor Snape, not that it's any business of yours.” “Not my business!” Draco hissed, “You little liar, you reek of alcohol. You're drunk.” “So what if I am?” Pansy pulled away, sweeping past to find an empty seat by the fireplace. By now more than a few eyes were turned their way. Draco drew himself up, fighting his anger in an attempt to keep his pride intact. With a cold look in her direction, he raised his voice for all to hear, “Fine, you little whore. Do what you like; it's no concern of mine. You're beneath me and it's a wonder I didn't see it earlier.” “Oh, Draco,” Pansy purred, lifting herself up and crossing back to where he still stood. “Don't get your knickers in a twist.” Ignorant of the laughter rippling around the room, she placed her arms around his neck and kissed Draco soundly. Draco shoved her away, disgusted. Slightly hurt, Pansy crossed her arms over her chest and met his eyes. “I'll have you know that I was with Professor Snape the entire time. He gave me the alcohol and we spent the better part of an hour sucking whiskey from each other's navels.” Draco's look of disgust deepened. “I don't believe you.” “Fine.” Pansy shrugged and turned away. “Believe what you like, but I'm telling you the truth.” She started off toward the girl's dormitory, but as she reached the door she turned back, a smug grin on her lips, “And by he's a better lay than you by far. We're through. Good night, Draco.” Draco stared after her, dumbfounded, as laughter spilled around him. The next morning, try as he might, it was impossibly to wake Ron for breakfast. With a worried sigh Harry made his way to the Great Hall where he forced down a couple of poached eggs and a slice of heavily buttered toast. Something was definitely wrong. By the time he started for his first class, Herbology, neither Ron nor Hermione had yet appeared. Strangely enough, Professor Snape also seemed to have gone missing. Soon enough, however, he was saved from delving into these matters further by a terrified Seamus. He literally ran into Harry as they crossed the lawn to greenhouse four. “You don't think she meant it, do you? I mean, not Hermione. She was just playing with me, right?” “Slow down! What are you talking about?” Completely exasperated and no less frightened, Seamus grabbed Harry by the shoulders, shaking him lightly. “Hermione! She wants to see me naked!” “Oh,” Harry had to laugh, “I'm sure that was just Ron's idea of a joke. Hermione's not the vengeful type.” But the sly wink she threw Seamus as Hermione and Ron entered Herbology a full ten minutes late had Harry worried all over again. Professor Sprout gave the pair a disapproving glare and began to lecture them all on the importance of being on time when Draco strolled into the room. What with the sixth and seventh years specializing their education there were less students from each house in most classes. It was not uncommon for all four houses to be in a class together, with the exception of required courses such as Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic. So it was that the entire school would know of the spectacle that stood before them by the end of second period. Draco gazed around the room in a lazy manner, unaware that every eye was on him. His robes hung loose and open over his shoulder, revealing not the mandatory school uniform, but a tight white tee shirt and black jeans. His normally gelled beyond reason hair hung limply, framing his face and partially obscuring one half lidded silver eye. A delightful little smirk lit up his face as he spied an empty seat across from Harry, completely ignoring the chair that Crabbe and Goyle had managed to save for him. “Morning, Potter,” he said as he sat down, the smirk still on his lips. Professor Sprout declared a detention for Hermione, Ron, and Draco before she continued the lesson, but Harry was finding it hard to concentrate. Nestled between Just Finch-Fletchley and a Hufflepuff girl Harry had never bothered to learn the name of, Draco seemed very much at ease. He kept smiling at Harry with only the barest hint of malice, continuously asking to use his clipper on the pretense that the ones before him were too dull to cut through the willow bark though Harry had yet to see him try. Even Hermione and Ron seemed to have regained their senses and were constantly throwing Harry worried glances. After class Harry hurried out, all of Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Neville, and Justin on his heels. Halfway back to the castle he spun and faced the group. “What was all that about?” Neville was worrying his lower lip, eyes on where Draco was sauntering back inside flanked by an equally flustered group of Slytherins. “I don't know, Harry, but I'd watch my back if I were you.” Justin nodded his approval, “Everyone knows he's out to get you since you put his father in Azkaban.” “What are you talking about?” All eyes flew to Hermione. She glared at Harry, hands on her hips, and Harry was inadvertently reminded of last night's precedings. He'd have to remember to bring that up. But Ron was pushing forward, catching them each in turn with unbelieving eyes. “Are you all blind? It's so obvious that he wants you!” “Wants…?” Harry blinked. “Wants to fight him, you mean?” Seamus put in doubtfully. “Wants to shag him, you nit!” Hermione raised her eyes to the sky, arms raised in disbelief. A heavy silence followed and then Harry burst into hysterics. A moment later he was joined by Seamus, Neville, and Justin, tears forming in his eyes as he choked out, “That's a good one, Hermione.” “I'm not joking!” But as the laughter continued, Ron spoke up again, threading one arm around Hermione's waist as he came to her defense. “She's serious, you guys. I can't believe you all didn't see it.” “Ron, Hermione, Malfoy hates me.” Harry countered, not even bothering to try and stop his giggles. “If he's being nice, it's only to get me to lower my guard.” “I don't think so. I think he likes you far more than even he'd realized, and until now he'd been letting his jealousy get in the way.” “Jealousy?” Harry suddenly frowned, angry at the insinuation, “Jealous of the boy who lost his parents? Jealous of the boy who lived in a cupboard for the first eleven years of his life? Jealous of the boy who has to defeat Voldemort or die trying? I don't think so.” But Hermione was insistent. “No, of course not. But he's jealous that you're popular – not only among your own house, as he is, but in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff as well. He's jealous that you're better at quidditch than he is. He's jealous that you're powerful, and he's jealous that you're famous—“ “But I don't want to be!” “I know, Harry, I know, but he doesn't.” She reached a comforting hand out to lay on his arm. “In his eyes, you're everything he wishes he was. It's all so clear to me suddenly.” “All so clear?” Harry scoffed, “Are you telling me that shagging Ron has given you great insight into Draco Malfoy?” “Maybe he's the jealous one,” Justin whispered a little too loudly. “I am NOT jealous!” Harry nearly screamed and then lowered his voice at the shocked expressions on his friends' faces. “I'm very happy that Ron and Hermione have finally gotten together.” “It sure took you long enough.” Seamus smiled. “But,” Harry continued, “everything is just so… I mean, what's going on?” “I think you need to calm down, Harry.” Hermione concluded, taking Ron's hand. “Nothing is going on; you're just being paranoid. Let's go, Ron. We'll see you guys at lunch.” Harry just shook his head and then started as something hit him. He turned and called to Ron and Hermione's retreating forms, “Lunch? What about History of Magic?” “Oh, we're skipping that.” Ron shrugged over his shoulder. “Try and take notes for us.” Harry had his head buried in his hands when History of Magic began and Professor Binn's endless droning was the perfect background to think to. Hermione had not only been late to their first class, but was completely skipping their second. If that wasn't a sign that something was dreadfully wrong, then he didn't know what was. A subtle breeze drifted across his left arm and Harry opened his eyes to see a note lying on his desk through the curtain of his fingers. 'Potter' was written on it in small, sweeping letters. Harry looked up to see Draco Malfoy smiling at him from Ron's usual seat and felt his stomach drop. He'd forgotten about him. “What is this?” He whispered, jabbing one finger in the direction of the folded parchment. “Read it,” Draco answered, never losing the ever-so-irritating smirk. With a resigned groan, Harry unfolded the note and read the single line scrawled gracefully across it. 'We need to talk.' 'No, we don't.' Harry hastily wrote beneath it and slid the note back onto Draco's desk. Draco sighed audibly as he read Harry's answer and then sat for a moment in contemplation, slim fingers toying with his quill before jotting down a reply. Harry took the note from his outstretched hand. 'Where's Granger?' “What?” Harry turned to Draco, thrown by the sudden change of topic. “Is something wrong, Mister…” Professor Binns glanced down at his role book briefly and then gave up and met Harry's gaze. “No, Professor. I'm sorry. Please continue.” All eyes were on him, and Harry could hear snickering from the Slytherin side of the room. Cheeks crimson, he deliberately crumpled the note and stuffed it into his pack. On second thought…. “Actually, Professor, I'm feeling very ill. May I go to the infirmary?” “What?” Binns looked up, startled and obviously annoyed at the continued interruptions. “Oh, yes. Fine. Go ahead.” Harry breathed a sigh of relief and scooped up his bag, hurrying out of the room. The air in the corridor seemed cool and fresh, or maybe it was just that he was away from Malfoy. Either way, Harry suddenly felt immensely relaxed. He hesitated at the corridor that led to Madame Pomfrey and then hurried past. Maybe he'd go talk to Hagrid. He was barely on the grounds when a familiar voice rang out behind him. “Skipping class, Mister Potter?” Harry stopped dead in his tracks. “How many points can I take away from that?” The click of boots against stone foretold Snape's approach but did not prepare Harry for the sight he met as he spun back toward the castle. To start, Snape was smiling. Not smirking, not the humorless upturning of the mouth that he was all too used to, but an actual genuine smile. If Harry didn't know better, he'd swear that he'd had just gotten laid. As if this wasn't bad enough, Snape had forgone his robes all together in exchange for the muggle attire of a green turtleneck and khakis. He's never seen his teacher so… so human. Snape was casually drifting forward, hands clasped behind his back. He stopped mere inches in front of Harry and leaned forward, whispering as if he were sharing a secret. “Though I'd gladly enjoy taking twenty points away from Griffindor for this indiscretion, it's hardly seems fair under the circumstances.” His smile widened at Harry's curious stare. “I'm skipping class, too.” With that Snape wheeled away, arms spread wide as he stepped into the sunlight. “It's such a glorious autumn day – far too fine to spend it holed away in the dungeon.” Harry gaped at Snape's back, “Professor… are you all right?” But Snape either didn't hear him or just didn't care enough to answer. He ambled away from Harry, faced turned toward the sun. “That was odd.” “You're telling me.” Harry glanced over to Draco, who had somehow managed to come up beside him without making a sound. He growled, exasperated. “Malfoy, what are you doing here?” “Looking for you, of course. I told Binns that your stench had made me nauseous and he let me go.” “Well, you can stop wasting your time because I have no intention of talking to you.” “Oh, stop being so stubborn,” Draco hissed, “All I want is a nice, friendly chat.” Harry snorted. “Friendly, right. I don't think you have a nice bone in your body, Malfoy.” Draco met Harry's eyes, considering him a moment before responding, “Well, you wouldn't know, would you? You never gave me a chance.” “What are you talking about? You've had five years of chances.” Now it was Draco's turn to laugh. “Did you forget? Am I that unimportant to you? Well, of course when you're Harry-fucking-Potter—“ “Get to the point, Malfoy.” Harry spat out. He was angry and confused and growing more uneasy by the second. Besides, he had more important things to worry about than Malfoy's whining. Draco had closed in on Harry so that their noses were practically touching. “My point is that five years ago you refused my friendship. You humiliated me and made is very clear that we were not to be friends.” “I never—“ Harry paused as the memory resurfaced: coming face to face with Malfoy on the train, insults thrown at his newfound friends and then… then he turned Draco away, practically ensuring that they'd be enemies from that point on. “Oh.” Draco was nodding, lips upturned in the slightest of smiles. “Yes. It was you who started this feud between us, not me.” “But you—“ But Draco was leaps and bounds ahead of him. “My dislike of Weasley has nothing to do with you and me. But none of that matters now. What matters is that I'm giving you a second chance, which is more than you'll get from most people.” If his mind weren't so plagued with guilt, Harry was sure he could have come up with a decent retort. As it was, he simply stared as Draco backed up a step and stuck out his hand. “Let's start over. Hello, my name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.” Harry smiled bemusedly and took Draco's hand. “Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you.” “Oh, the pleasure is all mine. So, Potter, tell me about yourself.” Harry shook his head. “I'm not really in the mood for games, Malfoy.” But Draco was very serious as he replied, “I'm not joking.” “Look, Malfoy,” Harry brushed past him to head back into the castle proper. The bell marking the end of second period sounded, and the muted sound of laughter and the clatter of footsteps reached his ears as student spilled into the corridors, eager for lunch. “Something strange is going on. People are behaving very oddly. Hermione is skipping class, Snape is … well, just wrong. And you….” He trailed off, turning around to give Draco another once over, “I don't even know where to start.” Draco suddenly growled, his cheeks flushed with anger. “Don't you dare turn me down again, Potter. I'm giving you a second chance against my better judgment. Don't think I'll make this offer again.” Harry watched Draco, noticing that the boy was trembling with rage. Either this really was a plot to get back at Harry gone horribly wrong or Draco really did want to be friends. Ignoring the students pouring into the hall, Harry approached Draco, his voice low. “I want to believe you, Malfoy, but it's hard to trust you after all you've done to me and my friends.” Draco was nodding, his trembling subsiding. “I understand.” “Look, if you really want to be friends, then show me. Prove to me that you mean it, but right now I have to go.” “Right.” Harry turned away, but stopped when Draco clamped a hand on his shoulder. “One more thing, Potter.” Draco walked around to face him. He was standing far too close for comfort, a slight smile on his lips. Both hands came up to cradle Harry's cheeks as he leaned in, whispering, “I've wanted to do this for a long time.” Suddenly, Draco's lips were on his, hot and soft. Harry jerked back. He opened his mouth, fragrant curses on the tip of his tongue, but Draco dove forward again, his tongue sliding against Harry's, eyes fluttering closed as he drew Harry's body tight against his own. It felt odd to be pressed up against the hard planes of another boy, but not entirely unpleasant. Harry's mind stalled before informing him that Draco wasn't a bad kisser. He allowed the kiss to linger a moment longer, reveling in the intensity and passion that his and Cho's kiss had lacked, his own eyes sliding shut before harsh reality kicked in. With a gasp and a shove, Harry was staring down at Draco's form sprawled across the stone floor. Draco stared back, dazed and hurt. “I suppose I should have expected that.” In one smooth motion, Draco was on his feet, robes billowing behind him as he turned and swept from the hall. And Harry was left standing, alone, in the center of a dozen gaping Hogwarts students. Chapter Three: Dog-ear the Corner then Pitch it in the Fire “So guess what I heard?” Hermione smiled at Harry from her seat on Ron's lap, one forkful of chicken poised in midair. Harry groaned and covered his already red face with his hands, “But it only happened a minute ago!” He dropped onto the bench across from them, intentionally facing away from the Slytherin table. “New travels fast mate.” Ron shrugged, arms tightening around Hermione as she dutifully fed him his lunch, “Especially news this disturbing.” “Disturbing?!” Harry looked up, “But you said you were expecting this.” “Of course,” Hermione eyed him calmly, “but we never said we liked it, and we certainly didn't expect you to do something about it.” “Really Harry. Malfoy? Yuck.” Ron shook his head and then accepted another forkful of chicken. “But I didn't! He—“ But the rest of Harry's words were cut off as a wave of exhaustion hit him. His body felt hot, almost on fire, and beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. “Something's wrong.” But they clearly misunderstood, “No, we're not mad at you. Just comes as a surprise.” “No! Something's wrong with me!” Harry growled. Hermione reached a patronizing hand across the table to gently pat Harry's balled fist. “Don't say that. There's nothing wrong with being gay.” “Gay?” Harry blinked, “I'm not gay!” Hermione and Ron exchanged a worried look before Ron spoke up. “Yeah, that surprised us, too, but it's okay. We don't care.” “Right.” Hermione nodded, “We just want you to be happy.” “No. No. No!” Harry got to his feet, on the verge of screaming, “I am NOT gay! I didn't kiss Malfoy. He kissed me.” “But you kissed him back.” Ron pointed out. “I did not! Who told you that?” Ron shrugged, “It's what Malfoy's saying.” “But I didn't…” Harry trailed off, his memory of the kiss slightly hazy, and only managing to come with that it was rather nice. “Did I?” “And what's wrong with being gay?” The trio looked up to see Seamus glowering at Harry, arms crossed over his chest. Hermione was staring, wide eyed, “Seamus, you're…” “Well duh.” Seamus rolled his eyes. “It's not like it's a secret or anything.” Ron shrugged and reached around Hermione to scoop more food off their plate, “Then why are you so freaked about Hermione seeing your package?” “Oh that's right!” Hermione squealed, jumping off Ron's lap and taking Seamus' hand. “Let's do it now -- before lunch is over.” Harry stared, open mouthed, as they exited the cafeteria, Hermione dragging the blushing Seamus rather forcefully. Despite everything, lunch finished out rather uneventfully. Thankfully, Harry had the rest of the day off and managed to drag Neville to the library for a few hours before his Magical Maladies class. The oddities of the last twenty four hours had begun with Hermione and Harry was positive that it all boiled down to the potion she had taken yesterday morning. Technically it was Neville's assignment, but Harry wasn't taking any chances. “Harry,” Neville was saying as they spread quills and parchment across a table, “I appreciate your help, but Snape wants me to do this alone.” Harry shook his head, “I don't think that matters anymore.” After a suspicious look from Neville he continued, “There's more to this potion than anyone knows. Hermione took it and look what's happened to her.” Neville nodded thoughtfully, but Harry wasn't finished, “Ron and Snape are acting strangely, too. And Hermione kissed both of them.” “All right. But what about Malfoy? Hermione didn't kiss him.” “No, she didn't,” Harry agreed, “but there's no way it's just a coincidence. Somehow he's been infected as well.” Neville smiled, shaking his head, “Infected? Harry, this isn't a virus.” Harry ignored him. “Malfoy kissed me, Neville. I think I'm infected, too.” Neville's smile dropped. He was silent for a moment before saying, “But you're all right, Harry.” “I'm not so sure. After Malfoy kissed me, I got very hot and tired. Remember when Hermione took the potion? She passed out. And I saw Snape sweating when I left class. And…” Harry closed his eyes. He had to concentrate on this, but it was becoming harder and harder to care. Oddly enough, his mind kept drifting to Draco, remembering hot lips against his and wondering what else the Slytherin was skilled at. Cho popped up in his thoughts as well. There had never been any real closure between them and Harry still found himself blushing when their eyes met across a crowded hall. “I can't think. No, I don't want to think.” He met Neville's worried gaze. “Something's wrong, but I'm not sure I care anymore.” “Oh.” Neville frowned down at a blank piece of parchment before him. “Maybe I should be writing this down.” “Mm.” Harry nodded, eyes on something over Neville's left shoulder. “Right.” Neville scratched down a few sentences and looked back up. “So there's sweating, tiredness, apathy, and… kissing? Anything else?” “Uh huh.” Neville waited. “Harry?” “Yeah?” “What else?” “I have to go.” “What?” But Harry was already moving past him. Neville twirled around to see him approaching a nearby table full of Ravenclaw girls including Cho Chang. Neville sighed and looked back down at his paper. “I guess I have to do this by myself after all.” Cho glanced up from her Defense Against the Dark Arts text when a hand lighted on her shoulder. Her stomach dropped. “Uh, hi, Harry.” “Hello, Cho.” He smiled and nodded toward the empty seat beside her. “Mind if I have a seat?” “Actually, yes.” Cho took a deep breath and met his emerald gaze dead on. “I'm sorry, but I don't think—“ But Harry was sitting down, a bitter smile on his lips, “We need to talk.” “Now?” Cho threw a worried glance across the table to Marietta. “Now's really not a good time. Michael is going to be here soon, and—“ “Michael? How is everything going with him?” Cho frowned, searching Harry's eyes before replying, “Fine.” Harry nodded, “He doesn't mind to talking about Cedric constantly?” Cho's look hardened and she turned away. “Harry, that's not fair.” “Fair?” Harry laughed. “Sure it is. Just as fair as you rejecting me for a dead guy.” “Harry!” Cho met his gaze once again, eyes wide with shock and shining with unshed tears. A book slammed down on the table and Harry glanced up to see Marietta glaring at him. “I think you should leave now.” Harry shook his head. “Oh, no.” He reached out and took hold of Cho's chin in a gentle, but firm grasp. “Not until I get what I came for.” In one fluid motion, his lips descended on Cho's. This kiss held none of the awkwardness their first had. He attacked her lips with every ounce of passion available, trying to tell her everything he'd never been able to put into words— Only to be shoved away. Cho scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over her overturned chair. She backed away, eyes angry, tears spilling down her cheeks, and ran. “Get out of here.” Marietta was on her feet as well and appeared to be braced for a fight. Harry's gaze passed from her to the other girls and he shrugged. “Fine.” He spun away and marched back to where Neviile was gaping at him. “Harry…?” “Bloody bitch.” Draco was wandering the halls, undecided about what to do now. He's just had an awkward heart to heart with Crabbe and Goyle that left both morons speechless. Running his fingers along the rough stone walls as he walked, he thought back to the end of the conversation. “And so you see,” he had remarked to the gaping idiots, “I don't really hate Potter at all. In fact…” He almost blushed, eyes lost in the common room fire place, “I kind of like him.” After a full minute of silence, he looked up to see both Crabbe and Goyle still staring with open mouths. “Say something.” The two exchanged a look before Crabbe spoke up, “So you're gay?” Draco shrugged. He could see the gears struggling to turn as Goyle added. “But he's the enemy.” Crabbe blinked. “You're gay?” “Maybe it's time to make peace.” Goyle started to nod and then abruptly stopped, eyes wide. “But what about… um… you know.” Draco lifted an eyebrow. “What about what?” Voice low and leaning forward, Goyle replied, “You know… Him.” “Him? You mean my father?” “No!” Goyle hissed, “The other him.” Draco gave a long sigh. It was always a challenge trying to have a serious conversation with the moron twins. “Not my father… Voldemort?” Goyle gave a vigorous nod. “Well,” Draco's face lit with a cocky smile. “He doesn't control me.” After a moment's consideration he added, “I don't think I'm too keen on the whole Death Eater thing anymore anyway. There's much more fame and ppower in being Potter's boyfriend… as long as his side wins. So we'll just have to make sure that happens.” The look Goyle gave him was almost thoughtful. He nodded his ascent and then both he and Draco turned questioning eyes to Crabbe. “You're gay?” Draco stopped walking, a silly smile on his lips. What would he do without Crabbe and Goyle for comic relief? His sudden urge to open up to them, however, had him baffled. He didn't really care what they thought; he just wanted, no, needed to talk, to spill his heart out. And the need wasn't going away. He need to talk, to laugh, to play, to fly…. Yes. Flying sounded absolutely marvelous. The sun was setting and a cool breeze toyed with his hair as Draco kicked off. A few students were milling about the grounds, making use of the last of the fading light, but he paid them no mind. Lying low against the broom handle, Draco shot forward, cutting the air with practiced ease. The wind tickled his cheeks and tugged at his robes. He felt so very alive. Pulling to an abrupt halt at one end of the pitch, he noticed a lone figure hovering by the goal posts. The boy had his back to Draco, gazing over the horizon, but Draco recognized him immediately. His heart skipped a beat, a sudden rush of adrenaline in his veins. “Hey, Scarhead.” Harry started and then turned to meet him. “Malfoy.” “Up for a game?” Harry watched him a moment and then turned back to the sunset. “A game?” “Yeah,” Draco slid up beside him. “Let's grab the snitch from the shed and try to catch it.” A smile in red and golds lit Harry's face, but she was shaking his head. “Not really in the mood, Malfoy.” “Oh, come on…. We can make it interesting….” “Interesting?” “Yeah. A bet.” Another moment's thought and then Harry was facing him, grinning beautifully, “You're on.” Ten minutes later the boys were standing in the center of the field, brooms mounted and the snitch clutched in Draco's hand. “What are we playing for?” Draco pretended to consider this before replying, “A request. The winner asks a favor of the loser, and the loser must concede.” Harry nodded, “Let's go.” The snitch was released and then they were in the air, eyes scanning the pitch for any hint of gold. The sun had nearly set, making visibility difficult, but Draco wasn't bothered. After a full minute of searching with no luck, he turned his gaze to Harry. The other boy was poised on his broom, eyes alert, muscles tense. His unruly hair tossed about in the breeze, and Draco couldn't help the sigh of longing that escaped his lips. Facing up to his hidden attraction for the Griffindor had been such a great relief. No longer did he feel the need to hide behind childish pranks and snide remarks. What with his father in Azkaban, he could finally deal with his sexuality as well. The arrest of Lucius Malfoy was a mixed blessing. Draco loved his father, and his tore at his heart to be separated from him, but at the same time he free – free of the pressure to be better than Harry Potter, free of the looming dread of the Dark Mark, and free of being the perfect son. Harry had kicked off again, and Draco started to follow before realizing that he was merely circling the pitch. With an amused grin, Draco decided to screw the pitch for a moment and simply played, circling in an inward spiral before doing a few vertical loops. Thoroughly dizzy, he pulled level, wavering on his broom with a smile. “Malfoy, you all right?” “Never better, Potter.” Draco gripped his broom tightly, attempting to focus on Harry as the world stopped spinning. Harry, meanwhile, was watching him with heavily concerned eyes. “You know, Malfoy, something strange is going on and I think you're infected. You didn't happen to kiss Hermione, did you?” “That filthy little mudblood?” Draco frowned, disgusted, “God, no. The only people I've been kissing are you and that whore, Pansy.” “Pansy…? Did she kiss Hermione?” Draco quirked an eyebrow, “What are you on, Potter?” “It's just that—“ But Draco wasn't listening. He leaned forward, sprawled along his broom like a very content cat. “I can tell you who Pansy has been kissing, though.” He paused, grinning slyly at Harry's startled expression. “Well,” he slid forward, coming to rest along side Harry's broom, “apparently Pansy's been spending quality time with our dear Professor Snape… if you know what I mean.” Harry's eyes widened and he shouted, “That's it!” Draco frowned, “Snitch.” “No, of course I won't snitch. Wh—“ “No!” Draco grabbed Harry's face and pointed him toward the eastern goal posts. “Snitch. See you later, Potty.” And then he was zooming after the tiny speck of gold, unhindered glee coursing through every vein. The snitch took off, sailing toward the earth before pulling up and gliding mere inches above the ground in the opposite direction. Draco spun his broom, hot on its tail. Suddenly, he was shoved off course as Harry came in from the left, slamming into him before speeding up. “So that's how it is.” Draco lay flat against the broom handle and shot forward. He grabbed the tail of Harry's broom and shoved, sending the other boy veering off. In a second he was back, however, and the two were neck and neck, arms stretched to their limits at the snitch, mere inches out of their grasps. “Back off, Potter, “Draco growled, “You're not winning this time.” Eyes still trained on the snitch, Harry laughed, and it was one of the most beautiful things Draco had ever heard. “Of course I am.” Harry grabbed hold of Draco's arm and used it to pull himself forward. The next instant the snitch was against his palm and he pulled back. Unable to stop in time, Draco slammed into Harry's back, sending them both tumbling to the ground. They came to rest on the edge of the pitch, Draco sprawled over Harry. With a muffled curse and another laugh, Harry pushed him up until Draco was straddling him on hands and knees. He grinned triumphantly and held up the snitch. “You should know by now, Malfoy, that when it comes to Quidditch, I always win.” Draco smirked. “So what'll it be, Golden boy?” Harry's smile dropped and he gazed into Draco's eyes without an ounce of humor. “A kiss.” Draco started and then smiled, “You're kidding, right?” “I've never been more serious.” Draco chuckled, lowering his lips to Harry's. “Funny. That's exactly what I would have asked for.” Harry's lips were soft and windblown cool against his. He slid his tonge along Harry's lower lip and after a moment's hesitation, the other boy allowed him entrance. Harry tasted of sweat and pumpkin juice and Draco groaned, falling down to his forearms and splaying both hands through Harry's soft, tousled hair. Harry's warm, calloused hands slid along his sides. They dipped beneath his robes, hot against his skin. A fluttering against his stomach made Draco pull away, laughing. “What…?” “Oops.” Harry smiled. “Snitch.” He dropped the golden ball and it took off into the night, though both boys were too distracted to notice. Chapter Four: The Spoken Word “Harry. Harry! Wake up!” Saturday morning found Neville leaning over Harry, large brown eyes dancing with excitement. Harry peered up at him and groaned, “Lemme alone. I'm tired.” “Where were you last night, mate?” Ron asked from the next bed. “I didn't get to bed until after midnight, and you still weren't back.” Harry smiled into his pillow. “Flying.” “Who cares?” Neville practically screamed, “Harry, I found it!” But Harry was dutifully ignoring him, desperate for five more minutes of sleep. “Found what?” Ron asked, climbing out of bed. Neville grinned from ear to ear. “I know what I did wrong.” “You did something wrong?” Ron was only half listening, head currently buried in his trunk and flinging sweaters every which way. “With my potion! I looked in up in the library and I found out what I did wrong.” It was painfully clear that neither boy was paying attention, but Neville rushed on, too proud and excited to care. “First, I put in too many amber chips, and then I added the cyclamen too soon… which must have done something… So now that I know what was in it and how it's affecting people, I should be able to figure out what potion Hermione took!” “That's cool,” Ron mumbled, attention on the red button down in his hands. “Hey, Harry? Do you think I should wear this on my date?” “Date?” Neville blinked. “Duh.” Ron rolled his eyes, “Today's the first Hogsmead trip of the year. I was thinking of taking Hermione to Mademoiselle Mona's Mellifluous Malts and then to a play.” “Oh, that's right!” Harry bolted upright and smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I was supposed to meet Draco at The Three Broomsticks at noon! What time is it?” “Draco Malfoy?” Neville squeaked. “Malfoy!” Ron gaped and then a sly smile flitted across his lips. “So that's who you were with last night.” Harry blushed, smiling as well. “I have to admit, he's a damn fine kisser.” “This is great!” Ron pushed past Neville to plop down on the bed beside Harry. “Let's have a double date!” “Really?” Harry looked skeptical. “I mean, you're okay with this?” “Yeah! Well… sure, he's an insufferable git…” “And you hate him,” Harry reminded him. Ron nodded, “And he hates me… and Hermione, and muggles… and muggle borns…” “And Hagrid.” “Not to mention that he's the son of a Death Eater!” Neville shrieked. “Yeah…” Ron shrugged and beamed at Harry, “but if you like him, then he can't be all that bad.” Harry was quiet for a moment. He stared at his lap, twisting the sheets, a slight smile on his lips. “Thanks, Ron.” He looked up, “That means a lot to me.” “What is wrong with you two!?” Neville screamed, “This is Malfoy!” Harry shot him a hurt look, “Neville, calm down.” “Yeah, mate.” Ron shook his head, “Don't you believe in second chances?” “But… Malfoy.” Harry nodded. “Yeah? And?” “Oh!” Ron was suddenly all smiles again, “You going to Hogsmead, Neville?” “No. I was going to work on my essay.” Ron made a face, “Booooooring! Come on, Harry. Let's get dressed.” At precisely three past twelve Harry stepped through the door of the Three Broomsticks flanked by both Ron and Hermione. “I still can't believe you two are all right with this,” he said, scanning the crowd. “Of course we are!” Hermione grinned, “You know we just want you to be happy. And besides, with Malfoy—“ “Draco.” Harry corrected her. Hermione laughed, “With Draco as our friend, soon we'll have all of Slytherin on the side of light.” “Ah, my naive, hopeful Hermione.” Ron smiled, pulling her into a fierce hug, “one snake at a time, Love.” “Speaking of which…” Harry frowned, “I don't see him. Let's go up to the bar and—“ “Get down, idiot!” “Draco?” Harry spun around to find the boy crouched down behind him, eyes on the bar. “Good. He didn't see you. Follow me.” After many confused looks between the trio, they all gave mental shrugs and hurried after Draco to a table in the far corner. He gave Ron and Hermione a cursory nod and then turned to Harry, “What are Weasel and the mudblood doing here?” Harry frowned. “They're my friends and they have names. And,” he added, jabbing one finger into Draco's chest. You're going to try and like them, too, if you want to be with me.” Draco groaned and rolled his eyes, “Fine. It'll try, but I'm not making any promises.” “Deal.” Harry grinned, pulling Draco forward for a chaste kiss. “I hate to admit it, but they're kind of cute.” Ron said. “Yeah, but Mal—Draco, what's with all the secrecy?” Hermione leaned forward, intense brown eyes locked with silver. Draco smiled, “Well, Granger—“ Harry elbowed him. “I mean Hermione.” His lips seemed to have trouble forming the word. “Take a look at who's seated at the bar.” Curiosity more than a little peaked, Harry turned as well. There was a goblin, a couple of witches, and-- “Snape?” Harry asked. “So? We're not doing anything wrong.” Draco quirked an eyebrow. “Remember what I told you last night?” But all Harry could remember was a hot kiss and soft skin like porcelain. He shook his head. Draco rolled his eyes, “Look who he's with.” Harry turned back to the bar. There was a slight blond girl to Snape's right, but he couldn't quite make out whom. She was laughing at something the professor had said. “Pansy Parkinson?” Hermione shrugged. “So?” “Just watch.” At that moment, Pansy was creeping up Snape's side, one hand toying with the front of his robes. Snape spoke and she laughed again… and then kissed him. Both arms slid around Snape's neck and he pulled her close in response. “Oh my God.” Hermione gasped. Ron spun away, “My eyes! My eyes!” “Oh…” Harry chuckled. “Wow.” “I can't believe this!” Hermione was shaking her head, eyes still locked on Snape and Pansy. “Not only is she a minor, but his student as well! They are breaking so many laws. And in public, no less. This is going to get back to Dumbledore by tonight.” “Well you're not going to tell him.” Hermione turned to meet Draco's glare. “Of course I will.” Draco's face darkened, but Harry quickly interceded. “Please don't.” “Harry!” “Snape is Draco's favorite teacher. If you want to be his friend, then you can't say anything.” “But—“ “No.” “But, mate, it's Snape!” Ron grimaced, “Screw Malfoy; let's get him.” “What did you say, Weasel?” Draco was on his feet, wand out. Harry groaned and buried his head in his hands. “What's wrong, Malfoy? Are you deaf or just stupid?” Ron had his wand out as well. Hermione sighed, her gaze passing from Ron to Draco and back again. “Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Harry,” she turned to him, reaching one arm across the table to pat his shoulder, ”I'm going to take Ron and get out of here. We'll see you back at school.” She climbed to her feet and pushed Ron back, placing herself in the line of fire while effectively cutting off Draco's tirade of curses. “Draco, it was nice seeing you, but Ron and I have to be on our way. Don't worry, we won't tell anyone about Professor Snape.” “We won't?” “No, Ron. Now let's go.” “But 'Mione…” Harry watched as she dragged the reluctant Ron out the door and then looked up at Draco. “Sorry about that.” Eyes still on the exit, Draco shrugged. “Should have expected it.” Harry nodded. “Give it time.” Meanwhile, Neville was growing more and more despaired, buried behind three enormous stacks of books in the back of the library. “Nothing.” Neville slumped back in his chair and slammed 'Brewing Beauty' by Elvira Norton shut. He'd lost count of how many tomes he'd searched with no luck. Not one listed anything even vaguely resembling the potion he had concocted. “Having trouble?” Neville looked up , startled, and smiled. “Oh, hello Professor Lupin.” He dropped his eyes back to the twenty something books laid before him. “Yeah, I am.” “Anything I could help with?” He pulled out a chair and the paused, throwing Neville a questioning look. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Sit down. I'm doing a paper for Professor Snape. I messed up a potion and I need to figure out what I really made. I can't find it anywhere.” Lupin nodded, resting his chin on steepled fingers. “I wasn't the greatest in Potions, but maybe I can help. What have you found out so far?” Neville pulled out his notes and then paused. “I can't.” He raised miserable eyes to meet Lupin's curious gaze. “Professor Snape said I had to do it alone.” Lupin chuckled, “Well, what Snivillus doesn't know can't hurt us.” Neville couldn't help but laugh at that. He peered down at his notes, feeling the first stirring of hope since that morning. “Well, it's been making everyone act weird. Hermione's been—“ “Wait.” Lupin held up a hand, “People actually took this potion?” “Um… well, Professor Snape made Hermione take it, and—“ “Does Dumbledore know?” Neville thought a moment. “I don't think so.” Lupin frowned. “I don't like the sound of this. Please, continue.” “Okay… well, Hermione's been skipping class. Ron, too. Um… Malfoy, I mean Draco Malfoy is being nice to Harry and he even kissed him. And then Harry started acting weird, too. He got really lazy and careless… I mean, he stopped caring.” “Hmph.” Lupin scratched his chin. “Hermione skipping class and Malfoy kissing Harry? I see what you mean. Do you know what was in this potion?” Neville beamed with pride. “Yeah. I figured it out last night. There was too much amber and cyclamen.” “Okay… amber is used for confidence.” “And peace,” Neville added. “That's why it was in the serenity potion… at least it was supposed to be a serenity potion. Professor Snape said it's used to aid in meditation.” “Yes, I know it.” Lupin replied. He settled back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, long legs propped up on the table's edge. “What was the other ingredient?” “Cyclamen.” “Cyclamen… I'm not familiar with it.” Neville scanned the parchment before him. “Cyclamen is used for happiness, lust, and to draw love and truth.” “All right. Let's see.” Lupin began to count on his fingers, “Confidence, peace, happiness, lust, love, and truth… hm…” He tilted his head, mulling over the list, and then smiled. “Sounds like they're drunk.” “What?” Neville smiled, his confusion evident. “Think about it. Alcohol causes one to become bold, filled with a false confidence. It also numbs the senses, bringing about a sense of tranquility… a sort of peaceful happiness. Also, because of the loss of inhibitions, one is more likely to act on feelings of lust and speak freely, i.e. tell the truth.” Neville grimaced. “So I made a drunk potion?” Lupin laughed. “Not quite, but close. I think I know where to find this potion as well. Let me get the book; it should be in the restricted section.” Neville smiled as he watched Lupin go. If the Professor was right, then he'd not only know what was wrong with Harry and the rest, but he'd be finished with his essay by this afternoon and have the rest of the weekend to relax. Maybe even stop in at Hogsmead. “Oh, Neville…” He was jerked from his reverie when a strong hand landed on his shoulder. “Oh, Seamus, hi.” “How are you doing, mate?” Seamus plopped down next to him and leaned forward, a sly grin on his lips. Neville smiled back. “I'm great. I think I'm about done with my essay—“ “That's great. You busy?” “Um, yeah. I just told you—“ “Up for a game of Exploding Snap?” Seamus tilted his head down, gazing demurely at Neville through his lashes, “Maybe strip Exploding Snap?” “Um…” Neville inched his hair back, “Seamus, why aren't you in Hogsmead?” “Because you're not there.” Neville gulped and turned away, searching desperately for Lupin. Seamus laid a palm on his check, turning his head so their eyes met. “You don't look happy to see me.” “Seamus,” Neville pulled back, “you're acting kind of strange…” He thought back over the last twenty-four hours and came to an abrupt halt at “Did anything happen with Hermione yesterday?” “Let's not talk about her.” “Please, Seamus.” “Oh, all right.” Seamus sat up straight, plainly disgruntled. “I got naked for her, but nothing happened.” “She didn't… kiss you, did she?” Seamus looked away. “Well, just once. A present for me being so cooperative.” He swung back to stare earnestly into Neville's eyes and grasped his hands. “But it meant nothing. She means nothing to me, really!” Neville shot to his feet, nearly tripping over his chair. “Professor! Professor Lupin?” “No need to bring him into this.” Neville suddenly found himself caught in the cage of Seamus' arms. “This is between you and me.” Seamus was far too close for comfort, chest pressed up against his, breath tickling his lips. “Oh dear.” Neville squeaked right before Seamus kissed him. Lupin rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. A laugh caught in his throat as he choked out, “Should I leave you two alone?” With a burst of adrenaline, Neville shoved Seamus away, dancing past him to hide behind Lupin. “No! Stay! Please….” Seamus pouted. “But Neville…” Neville squeaked and hid further behind Lupin. The teacher was laughing as he said, “Mister Longbottom has to finish his essay now. He can play later.” “No I can't!” But Seamus was already leaving. He mouthed the word “tonight” to Neville before blowing him a kiss. Once he was safely out of earshot, Neville sprung out from behind Lupin, scrubbing his lips with his sleeve. “Gah! Now I'm infected, too!” “Infected?” “Neville nodded, wiping down his tongue before replying, “Yeah. That's how Harry put it. If someone who's affected kisses you, then you get infected, too.” “Then we better get working on the antidote soon.” Neville nearly screamed. “Then you found it!?” Lupin smiled, holding up a tome entitled 'Legal Love Potions.' “Yup. It's a loss of inhibitions potion nicknamed Mousetrap because it uses your desires against you. The potion is gone from your bloodstream in twenty-four hours unless activated again. It passes from person to person through fluids, which is why you become infected when someone kisses you. If already infected, kissing someone not only infects them, but also passes the "virus" back to you, resetting the twenty-four hour period. Unfortunately, once affected, it's hard to keep your lips to yourself, so you're trapped.” Neville nodded enthusiastically. “That's it! Let's make the antidote!” Lupin laughed. “Let's? As in you and me? I hate to tell you this, Neville, but I'm almost as bad at potions as you are. We'll have to get Professor Snape to make it.” Neville's face dropped. “Oh, dear.” “What's wrong?” Neville sighed, worrying his lower lip as a wave of exhaustion hit him. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it and sat down in Seamus' vacated chair. “Um… Professor Snape is infected.” Lupin bit back a groan. “Oh dear indeed.” Chapter Five: Drunken Fowl “Severus…” Pansy whined, stroking one manicured fingertip down the length of his torso. “I'm bored. Can't we go back to school now?” Snape groaned and pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. “I told you: I'm not in the mood.” Pansy pouted. “You know,” she pointed out as Snape went into another sneezing fit, “if you hadn't decided to go skinny dipping in the middle of October, we'd be in your room right now fucking like bunnies.” Snape coughed and wiped his nose. “Language, Miss Parkinson.” “Oh! Snapey-poo, call me Pansy.” Snape snorted. If he had known what a clingy little brat the girl was, he's never have propositioned her in the first place. While all he really wanted form her was a quick shag, she immediately assumed they were a couple. “I'll call you whatever I like.” Pansy frowned. “You're so mean.” “And you're a little slut, but you don't see me whining.” Pansy growled, hopping off her bar stool and scooping up her purse. “I don't have to take this! Owl me when you get a heart.” He watched as she strolled off and started to laugh, ending up keeled over the bar in a bout of coughing. Minutes passed and Snape ordered another shot of whiskey. With the little prat gone, he could finally enjoy a drink. He'd be nice and toasty in no time. However, no sooner had he ordered his third shot than a familiar figure filled Pansy's seat. Snape let out an audible groan and downed the drink. “Remus.” Smiling like the Cheshire cat, Lupin nodded. “Severus. Fancy meeting you here.” “Don't you have cats to chase or something?” Lupin shook his head, still smiling. “Funny. Actually I'm here on Dumbledore's orders.” Snape stiffened. The little whore had told! Well, they'd never take her word over his. “Oh?” He signaled the bartender, not daring to meet Lupin's eyes. “Yes. He needs to talk to you about that potion you forced on Hermione Granger.” Snape almost laughed. “Is that all?” “This is serious, Severus. Do you know what potion that was?” “Of course. It was a loss of inhibitions potion.” “That's not a potion you should be giving to children.” Snape shrugged. “She had a choice. If you ask me, I was being far too lenient under the circumstances. Besides, the girl needed to lighten up.” Lupin was shaking his head, “I must admit that I am not fully aware of the situation, but this… problem is spreading throughout Hogwarts like wild fire. It needs to be stopped and you might be the only one capable of doing so.” “I can't.” “What?” Lupin stared at him, alarmed. “Can't find the counter-potion.” “Oh, is that all.” Lupin smiled. “Neville Longbottom discovered it.” “That imbecile?” Snape snorted. “Will wonders nev—ah achoo!” He swabbed at his nose with the handkerchief. “Stupid cold.” - Lupin stood. “Come on. We'll have Madam Pomfrey take a look at you.” He placed a hand on Snape's shoulder, but was shrugged off. “Can't be bothered with that.” “Oh yes you can. Severus Snape, by order of Albus Dumbledore, I hereby place you under house arrest. You are to be confined to your rooms for twenty four hours or until it can be ascertained that your bloodstream is clear of any and all toxins, including, but not limited to the aforementioned Loss of Inhibitions potion.” “I see.” Snape stood and faced Lupin. “Very well, but…” And now a smile graced his thin lips. “You'll have to catch me first!” And with that, he dashed toward the door. Snape growled as Lupin shoved him into his bedroom no more than an hour later. He watched the door slide shut behind him, listening as the other man began the spell to lock it. Breathing hard, he fought the coughs that racked his body. “Stupid cold.” It was nearing nine o'clock that night and all students had returned from Hogsmead. Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione were seated before the fireplace in the Griffindor common room, all four ignorant of the dirty looks thrown Draco's way. “So then,” Ron was saying, one arm thrown around Hermione's shoulder, the other motioning frantically, “the mother shrieked and clawed at Bill, but he was too fast for her. He dodged her and ran.” Draco scoffed. His head lay on Harry's lap, legs dangling over the arm of the couch. “He ran? I thought this guy was supposed to be brave.” “He is!” Ron shouted. “Remember he was trying to lure her away from the eggs,” Hermione pointed out, and Ron gave her a smile. “Anyway, he lead her into the trees where the other wizards had set up a trap. He stopped in a clearing, the mother only maybe twenty feet away. They stared at each other, Bill facing imminent death. The dragon opened her mouth, fire boiling in her belly, when suddenly twenty wizards and witches leapt from the cover of the trees and all at once they hit her with a stupefying spell! They relocated them all safely without a single muggle seeing them.” Harry grinned. “Bill has such a cool job. I want to do something like that.” Draco had tilted his head to the side and was watching Ron with a smile. “I guess your family's not that bad, Weasel.” “Draco!” Harry hissed, but Ron was smiling, too. “You're not so bad yourself, Ferret.” Both boys cracked up, and after an exasperated look from Hermione to Harry, they joined in the laughter as well. “Hey guys,” a breathless Seamus skidded to a halt before them. “Have any of you seen – Draco!?” “Why yes,” Ron smirked. “He's right here in Harry's crotch.” The four burst into giggles again, but Seamus was too dumbfounded to notice. “No, I mean, yes, I see that, but why is he here?” “We're just hanging out. There's no law against that, is there?” Harry met Seamus' gaze head on, one hand stroking Draco's hair defensively. “No… I guess not, but… okay.” Hermione sighed. “Did you need something, Seamus?” “Oh, right! Has anyone seen Neville? I've been looking for him for hours.” “No…” Hermione looked to Ron and then back at Seamus. “We've all been in Hogsmead. Nothing's wrong, is it?” “We know where Neville is.” All five looked over to where Parvati Patil was seated next to Lavender Brown, an open textbook on the floor before them. Both girls shared a knowing smile and then Parvati said, “He left with Ginny about two hours ago.” “Ginny?” Ron and Seamus shouted. “Yeah…” Lavender snickered, “they went up to the astronomy tower.” “I'll kill him!” Ron sprang off the sofa just as Seamus sat down. “What is it?” Hermione turned to Seamus, studying the boy's forlorn face with concern. “Isn't it obvious?” Draco was now sitting upright. “He's got a crush on Longbottom.” “I'll crush Longbottom,” Ron gritted out, fists clenched. He was halfway to the portrait hole when it swung open and a very serious McGonagall stepped inside. Before she even opened her mouth to speak, however, Dumbledore's magically enhanced voice rang through the room. “All students are to return to their dormitories immediately. It is imperative that all students assemble in their common rooms where their head of house will inform them of the current situation.” A low murmur spread through the room as fear bubbled up from every corner. McGonagall cleared her throat, “Quiet down, children!” “It's not an attack, is it?” Lavender cried. McGonagall sighed, “No, it is not an attack. Quiet down and I will explain.” She waited, rather impatiently for silence and then said, “Thursday morning a potion was administered to a student and it is affecting her behavior as well as many who have come in contact with her. These students need to be quarantined until an antidote is made available.” An all-together different murmur started up and McGonagall remained quiet, eyes darting about in stony silence until it subsided. She pulled a rolled bit of parchment from her robes and read, “Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasely, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom—“ “Neville's not here.” Seamus interrupted miserably. “Um… yes, I am.” A flushed and rather frazzled Neville stepped through the portrait hole, Ginny in tow. McGonagall eyed him sternly and continued, “Seamus Finnigan, and now I suppose I'll have to add Ginny Weasely. You are all to come with me.” “Professor?” Harry stood and motioned to Draco. “Draco didn't have a chance to return to his common room. Should he come, too?” McGonagall's eyebrows rose and she scanned the parchment again. “Yes, he's affected as well. Now come along.” “So, this is that infected thing you were going on about last night, right?” Fifteen people were crowded in Dumbledore's office. Along with the seven from Griffindor tower, there was Pansy Parkinson, Cho Change, Marietta Edgecombe, and Michael Corner. Each head of house, excluding Snape, was there as well, and Dumbledore made fifteen. Harry turned to Draco, “Yeah, I think so. I completely forgot about that.” ”I'm not surprised, Mr. Potter.” All eyes looked up to see Dumbledore watching Harry, a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. “Mousetrap is a very compelling potion. I've had a run in or two with it myself. Unfortunately,” and now he stood, clasping his hands behind his back, voice turning serious, “it is time to put an end to it. By tomorrow night Professor Snape will be well enough to concoct an antidote for us. Until then, I'm afraid you will all need to remain under quarantine. A set of rooms has been prepared in the dungeons. But before you go, I must ask one last time: are you all positive that you haven't…” Draco raised an eyebrow. “You want to know if we've been swapping spit with anyone else?” McGonagall and Sprout gave him a warning look, but Dumbledore just smiled. “I couldn't have put it better myself, Mr. Malfoy.” After it was ascertained that no one else was infected, the children were escorted to the dungeons. The room presented to them was small, but well furnished. It currently contained two large couches and several comfortable chairs, but they were informed that a table would replace these during meal times. The far wall housed the doors to two bedrooms – one for the boys and one for the girls, each with its own bathroom. McGonagall motioned for the students to sit and then addressed them. “Under the circumstances, I'd understand if you're all a little excited, however, I urge you all to get some sleep. Tomorrow morning the house elves will have brought you all a change of clothes and your books. Now goodnight.” She headed for the exit and then paused, sweeping the room with a stern look. “And do try and behave yourselves.” The moment the door closed, Ron was on his feet. “I'll kill you, Longbottom!” “Ron, stop it!” Hermione jumped up. “No, let's go.” Neville had stood as well and was crossing the room to face Ron. “I can take care of myself, Hermione.” ”All right then.” Ron pulled out his wand, quickly followed by Neville. The boys circled each other, each one eyeing the other up. “Ooh, a fight!” Pansy giggled. Draco leaned back in his chair, and amused grin on his lips. “This should be interesting.” “No!” Harry jumped to his feet. “No fighting!” He quickly strode over to where Ron and Neville stood glaring at each other. He forced his way between them, pulling out his own wand. “Sit down, both of you.” “No way, Harry.” Ron shoved him aside, though never taking his eyes off Neville. He raised his wand and opened his mouth. “Ron! Stop it!” Ginny had thrown herself in front of Neville. She glared daggers at her brother, blatantly ignoring the wand pointed straight at her heart. Through clenched teeth Ron whispered, “Move, Ginny.” Ginny sighed. “You're a bloody stupid git, you know that?” At Ron's dumbfounded expression she smirked. “You're so busy defending my honor that you didn't stop to think that I'm perfectly capable of doing myself. And besides,” she added, “nothing happened.” “But…” Ron shook his head. “Nothing happened?” Seamus perked up. Even Hermione was lost. “But Lavender said you two had gone to the astronomy tower.” “She what?” Neville exclaimed at the same time that Ginny shouted, “We did not!” “You mean you weren't off snogging?” Seamus asked hopefully. Ginny spun on him, “Of course not! Why would we do that?” “But…” Harry turned to Neville with a quizzical look, “I thought you were infected.” Neville nodded, blushing, but a stuttering Ron still wasn't convinced. “But… but you two went to the Yule Ball together…” “Yeah, like two years ago.” Ginny turned back to Ron, now on the verge of laughter. “Besides, that's the night Neville told me he was gay.” “Ginny!” A wide eyed Neville screamed and then blushed even harder, looking for all the world as if he wanted to crawl in a hole and die. “You're gay!?” Seamus had flung himself at Neville and was currently bouncing excitedly, both hands clutching his shoulders hard enough to bruise. “Wait,” Harry shook his head, “This is so confusing. If you weren't in the astronomy tower, then what WERE you doing all afternoon?” “And why did you show up to the common room all sweaty and out of breath?” Hermione put in. “Because,” Ginny smirked at her, “we had just run all the way from the library.” “The library?” Ron fell back into his seat. “You can't make out in the library.” Hermione shook her head and wrapped a patronizing arm around her boyfriend. “Exactly.” Ginny laughed and threw a quick look at Neville before continuing, “Neville told me all about the potion and what was going on. Since he had been affected as well, I was there to keep him on track while he tried to finish his essay. Unfortunately,” And now she turned to face Neville straight on, giddily ignoring his horrified look and the unspoken pleas hidden in his eyes, “he was too busy going on about what a fabulous kisser Seamus is.” ”You do like me!” Seamus squealed and jumped on Neville, throwing them both to the ground. Heads craned to see Seamus attacking Neville's mouth with vigor, and Neville… well, Neville really didn't seem to mind. “Too much Griffindor drama for my tastes.” The entire room turned to see Cho Chang lifting herself from a couch, flanked on either side by both Marietta and Michael. “Come on, guys,” she said, eyes locked on Harry, “let's go make use of those bedrooms.” “Yes, let's.” Michael leaned in to nuzzle Cho's neck and making it all too clear that they weren't talking about sleeping. That didn't prepare them for what happened next, however. Cho smiled at Michael and then turned to Marietta and caught her lips in a very sound kiss. Marietta smiled as they parted. “That's a great idea.” She threw Harry a withering look, and the three left hand in hand for what was meant to be the girls' room. Draco was the first to break the silence. “Damn. She's almost as much of a slut as you, Pansy.” Chapter Six: Boy Wonder's Daring Escape The next morning, Harry was awoken by the bedroom door slamming against the wall. His eyes flew open, body jolted forward… only to be slammed back down by the boy strewn across his chest. Draco slid off him, detangling their limbs in jerky, half-awake movements. In seconds, all seven of the rooms occupants were sitting up, half blushing guiltily at a very red faced McGonagall. Her mouth opened and closed, but her rage would let no sound escape. Wide, angry eyes scanned the room. "Dress yourselves at once!" She screamed and then stormed out, yanking the door shut behind her. "Oops." Seamus smiled and snuggled tight against Neville's side. It wasn't long until they were all rolling around in laughter. In fresh robes, Draco and the Griffindors emptied into the common room, where a long table set for breakfast had replaced the couches and chairs. Pansy, Cho, Michael, and Marietta were already there, and together they half listened to McGonagall's ranting. Other than the occasional "Never in all my years" and "a disgrace to all your houses," no one really paid attention, and what they did hear had them all quaking in silent laughter. Needless to say, once McGonagall left and everyone had dug in to the massive breakfast, all were in high spirits. "Oh, you should have seen in it!" Michael cried around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. "There we were, me, Cho, and Mari, all of us completely naked and she just waltzes in! I swear, I thought she was going to have a heart attack and die right there!" This prompted another round of giggles; Ron would have choked on his muffin if not for Hermione. "Seriously," Draco smirked and pushed his plate away, "She locked a bunch of horny teenagers in a room all night. What did she expect to find?" Hermione shrugged, "Well, she hasn't been a teenager in a long time." "That's no excuse!" Marietta smiled, "She around students each and every day. She should have known better." "Well said," Seamus raised his glass of pumpkin juice in a mock toast. "Now if you'll all excuse us, Longbottom and I have matters to attend to in the bedroom." He stood, offering a hand to Neville. "Seamus!" Neville stared, wide-eyed, blushing fiercely. "Oh, go on." Ron nudged him. "Sounds like a good idea," Michael jumped to his feet, immediately followed by a rather enthusiastic Cho and Marietta. "Yes, let's all go shag and leave Pansy miserable and alone, "Pansy pouted into her plate. "Aw, miss your ickle Snapey?" Draco sniggered. Seamus was on the verge of dragging Neville off when Ginny caught their attention. "Don't worry, Pansy. I'll keep you company," she circled the table to sit next to her in Marietta's vacated seat. "Pity from a Griffindor? No, thank you. I'd rather be alone." "Oh, it's not pity." The entire room watched as Ginny's innocent façade melted away to reveal a sly and seductive smile. "What are you—" But Pansy was cut off as Ginny caught her lips in a fiery kiss. At this point, Ron did begin to choke. Seamus shook his head, finally managing to pull Neville into the bedroom. He shut the door and threw him a quizzical look, "I though Ginny wasn't affected?" Neville just smiled, "She's not." Snape paced his quarters like a caged animal. He had been locked in for over 15 hours and the solitude was driving him insane. There was nothing but books in his bedroom, which he was very not in the mood to read. He longed to do something – anything! He wanted to swim, to play with herbs and mix potions, Hell, even Pansy would be welcome at this point. But no, he was stuck in a tiny room with a cold no less. His wand had been confiscated, so he couldn't even make the wadded up tissues dance for his amusement. Oh, he'd tried to escape, but each attempt had been thwarted by those thrice-damned wards. Apparently he wouldn't be allowed out until 9:00 that evening. With a weary and very disgruntled sight, he fell to the carpet and leaned against one bedpost. And sneezed. The hours seemed to pass far too quickly for the others, however. Despite the close quarters, everyone was getting along. They played games and chatted, and even the Ravenclaws joined in on the mischief before the night was over. At precisely fourteen minutes to ten, there was a knock on the door, and an amused voice asked, "Everyone is fully dressed, I hope?" Laughter filtered in from the other side of the door, and Dumbledore guessed that if he had arrived sooner, he could have wandered in on some very indecent behavior. "Very well, then. We're coming in." Dumbledore entered the small room to see all eleven children gathered in the common area. Many couples were snuggling far too close, but the gathering seemed innocent enough. Curious, though, was Ginny Weasely. She appeared to have a split lip and a line of scratches down one arm, but was smiling nonetheless, curled up in Pansy Parkinson's lap. Pansy herself was sporting a black eye, one arm wrapped possessively around Ginny's waist. "The last few days have been rather entertaining and quite enlightening for you all, I'm sure, but I'm afraid it is time for the fun to end. Severus?" Snape moved from behind Dumbledore carrying a rack containing eleven phials. His eyes lighted on Pansy briefly before turning to the head master. "I hate to say this, Albus, but it seems this little mishap was a large step towards uniting the four houses." "I hope you're not suggesting we administer it to the entire student body!" McGonagall bristled from the doorway. Dumbledore smiled, "Oh, I'm sure he meant nothing of the sort, Minerva, dear, but he does have a point. Never in my day did I hope to see Slytherins and Griffindors untied like this. Enough chitchat, though." He nodded and Snape approached the children. "Everyone take a phial and bottoms up." The glass was cool to the touch, the liquid inside a translucent pale blue. Many troubled looks were shared before they all lifted the phials to their lips in unison. The effect was immediate. A cloud seemed to lift from Harry's mind, and he realized that one hand was still nestled in Draco's. The other boy seemed to have similar thoughts. They met each other's gaze, both unsure of what to do next. "I suppose we should stop holding hands now." Harry frowned and tried to pull away, but the pressure on his palm increased. Draco was frowning as well, "Should we?" "Well, we're back to our right minds now, so…" "I see." Draco snatched his hand away, "You have to be drunk to care for me." "No, Draco, wait—" But Draco had stood was already halfway across the room. He looked to Dumbledore, eyes cold and distant. "I assume we are allowed back in the dormitories now." Dumbledore nodded, and with that, Draco left. "Jerk." Harry's eyes flew up to meet Pansy's. Her arms were still wrapped around Ginny, her empty phial laying forgotten on the couch. "Yeah, Harry, that was mean." Ginny placed one hand on Pansy's cheek, turning her head until their eyes met. A whimsical smile lit her face. "Just because you're sober now doesn't mean what you felt wasn't real." "Yes." Pansy giggled and rubbed her nose against Ginny's. "You know, I've never been with a girl before. You have a lot to teach me." "Ahem!" McGonagall faced them, hands on her hips. "There will be plenty of time for that later. For now, however, I insist you all return to your rooms and get some sleep. You will be expected to attend class tomorrow." Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes, "I guess she's right. I'll see you later, Pansy." "Mm." Pansy smiled and leaned forward to give Ginny a soft kiss. Potions the next morning was far too normal for Harry's liking. Snape was back to his miserable self, and Draco, while somber, even joined in the snickering when Snape caught Ron and Hermione passing notes. Neville handed in his essay, and Snape graded it while they all studied silently. At the end of class, he took ten minutes to discuss the highlights of Neville paper and surprised everyone by awarding it an E. Lunch came and Harry picked at his plate, lost in thought. It took a sharp poke from Seamus to realize that he was being spoken to. "Just go apologize and tell him you still want to get in his knickers!" Seamus exclaimed, ignoring the exasperated looks thrown his way. Hermione waved it away and turned to Harry, "Look, if you like him, you know we're all behind you. You hurt him last night, though, and you need to make it right." "But how?" Harry threw his fork down in frustration. "If I try to talk to him when he's surrounded by his friends, he'll just laugh at me, and there's no way I can get him alone." "Sure there is." Ron smiled. "We'll make it happen." Hermione nodded. "We have Care of Magical Creatures with him after lunch. We'll," she gestured to herself and Ron, "make sure to separate him from the Slytherins, and then you grab him and slip away." "Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, smiling for the first time that day, "Are you suggesting that I cut class?" Hermione blushed. "Well, even I have to admit that some things are more important than grades." "Hey there, Ferret." "Weasel," Draco greeted Ron amicably and then caught himself. His eyes darkened, "What do you want?" Ron shrugged, "Just because Harry is a stupid git doesn't mean we can't be friends, does it?" "You… want to be my friend?" "Sure," Ron shrugged again and smiled, "Walk with me?" Draco considered this for a long moment and then nodded. He turned to Crabbe and Goyle, both hanging back, ready to jump in at the first sign of hostility, and motioned for them to stay put. While obviously reluctant, they obeyed. They were far out of earshot before Ron spoke again. "I first gave you a chance for Harry's sake." Draco seemed to tense at the mention of his name. "But," Ron continued, "even though you're an arrogant, insufferable, whiny—" "Draco grit his teeth. "Get to the point." "The point," Ron grinned at him, "is that despite our past, I've had a lot of fun hanging out with you the last two nights. Hell, I think I almost like you. So screw Harry; let's be friends." Draco smirked bemusedly, "I guess I almost like you, too. Sure. Let's be friends." "Great!" Ron laughed, slapping Draco on the back. Their wanderings had led them to the far side of Hagrid's hut. Draco smiled at Ron and then looked forward again. His smile dropped. There stood Harry, watching them with infinite patience. Draco backed up a step. "What's going on?" "Oh, Harry wants a word with you, too. See you later, mate." Ron threw a wild grin at Draco before taking off. Draco sighed and contemplated running away as well, but his pride forced him to stand his ground, arms crossed, eyes cold. "You wanted something?" "Yes." Harry's voice was low, soft, as he carefully crossed the distance between them. "I have something to show you." "Draco rolled his eyes, "Oh, the great Harry Potter is willing to tolerate my lowly presence. I'm so honored." "Don't be an idiot." Harry snapped. He grabbed Draco's hand and proceeded to lead him across the campus. Draco followed with surprisingly little resistance. Eventually, they reached the edge the lake. Harry let his gaze linger on it. He asked in the same soft tone, "What do you see?" Draco scoffed and then looked down as well. "My reflection. So?" Harry nodded. "I was standing right here, staring at the lake last week. I tried to see what lay beyond the surface, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see past my own reflection. Later that day I came back. The sun had moved and now I cast a shadow over the water. Finally, in the darkness of my shadow I could see everything." He looked up and caught Draco's gaze, holding it as he continued, "The next morning I returned and found nothing but my reflection." Draco felt his breath catch. He knew where this was going, though he dared not get his hopes up. "What I'm trying to say," Harry reached out his hands and Draco took them instinctively, "is that I'm sorry. The potion opened my mind to all kinds of new possibilities. When I couldn't hide behind it anymore, I got scared. I pulled away because I thought you would, too. It was stupid, and I'm sorry." He paused, breathing in deeply, building up his courage, "Give me another chance?" "Another chance?" Draco laughed, harsh and bitter. He flung Harry's hands away with unnecessary force. "We've been over this once before. I told you Friday that you were out of chances, and you should know something about Slytherins by now." Harry nodded. His head dropped, body seemed to collapse in on itself. He didn't want to hear this, but he was a glutton for punishment. "What's that?" And then something amazing happened. Thin, pale fingers were lifting his chin, and Draco was so very close. His eyes were warm, laughing. "We lie a lot," he whispered before capturing Harry's lips in a kiss. "You asshole!" Harry shoved him away, laughing. Draco just shrugged, smiling from ear to ear. Harry grabbed his robes, yanking them both to the ground, pinning him down as he ravished Draco's mouth. In between kissed, he managed to ask, "So I'm forgiven?" Draco laughed, "Always." "You know," Harry whispered as he rained feather light kisses down the column of Draco's neck, "You'll have to make that little stunt up to me." Draco groaned. He flipped them over so that he was straddling Harry, kissing him deeply. "My pleasure." 3/11/04