Mistaken Identity

Draco strolled about the Hogwarts halls, completely engrossed in the sensation of being unnoticed. He watched in bemused wonder as students bustled past him on their way back to their dorms. They could walk within a few inches of him and still be completely oblivious to his very existence. Some Hufflepuff girls were giggling stupidly to his right as they watched Professor McGonagall scold a few first year Gryffindors for running through the corridors. To his left, a group of boys eyed off a senior Ravenclaw girl who was smiling coyly back. All of this happened within a few feet of Draco and yet he was not at all part of it. He was detached, compeltely removed from his surroundings.

He had never been invisible before despite his family's expansive access to magical artefacts and spells. He had experienced something similar though, and felt sure this particular Malfoy item was the perfect match for the silvery strands of an invisibility cloak. A pair of seemingly unremarkable dark leather boots, a gift from his parents on his eleventh birthday. The enchantment on these shoes rendered completely silent any sound the wearer could make. Draco could stamp his feet or fall flat on his face while wearing them and no one would hear him anymore than they could see him under the cloak.

When worn together, the Slytherin was completely concealed. He discovered that he could not even hear the sounds of his own breathing or the beating of his own heart and at first found all of this a little unsettling. He could not even be sure he was alive, instead feeling strangely ethereal and wraithlike. He wondered whether it was similar to how a ghost must feel – a mere pedestrian in the real world. However, in this state he could traverse the entire school grounds without interacting with anyone at all. As he got used to the sensations, he soon found the experience enjoyable and even relaxing. He was free to observe everything from a secret vantage point and from this distance somehow everything didn't seem so bad.

It helped him to forget things he probably should be worrying about.

He entered the great hall and watched as the school sat down to dinner. Harry was there, he was relived to see, sitting next to the usual crowd. Draco wanted to get closer so he could hear what was being said but thought better of it. Though he was relatively well hidden he could still bump into someone and end up making a spectacle of himself in front of the whole school. Instead he watched as the Gryffindor once more sat within the hub of his friend's little circle and yet somehow remained isolated from it.

Draco wanted to speak with him. He wanted to talk again, chat freely about what was troubling him or perhaps listen to what was troubling Harry. He wanted to ask him about the invisibility cloak and the Gryffindor’s own experiences with it. Maybe even thank him for trying to cheer him up the other day. He could not pretend that he was merely checking up on Harry anymore – it was more than that now. He wanted to help him, not out of some sense of civic responsibility, but because he genuinely wanted the Gryffindor to be happier. It still didn’t make much sense to him, but on those few brief occasions when he had made Harry smile everything seemed worthwhile.

Unfortunately actually getting the chance to speak with the boy was difficult. Since a certain Weasley had discovered Harry's hiding spot the Gryffindor hadn’t ventured near there. Add to this ordinary classes, Quidditch practice and Draco's evening Occlumency lessons and there just wasn’t a chance to see the boy alone. It was now Thursday night and still no opportunity to speak with Harry had presented itself.

Draco had a vial of polyjuice potion on him at all times just in case, but he was becoming increasingly despondent with the situation. Though Harry had seemed a little brighter at first, he had now clearly slumped back into depression again. Draco found it infuriating to be so powerless to stop this. He could walk within a few feet of Harry while invisible. He could get so close so as to hear him breath and yet he may as well have been on another planet. It was just not possible to go and speak with the boy normally and Draco found this state of affairs depressing. The Gryffindor really was beginning to mean something to Draco and yet from Harry's perspective they were still arch enemies. Somehow this hurt in a strange way he did not quite understand. It was beginning to occupy his every waking thought, even though he knew he should really be worrying more about his own predicaments.

Deep down Draco knew this couldn't continue. It was impossible for Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy to be anything but enemies and it was equally impossible to carry things on the way they were going. Draco found his mood had soured and decided it was time to leave. He skulked back to the Slytherin dungeons and retreated to the sanctuary of his empty dorm room. He worked on a potions essay for a few hours before finally retiring to his bed.

As he lay there in the comfort of his warm blankets he reached over to the silvery cloak and gently caressed the soft fabric between his fingers. He thought back to Harry's last words. 'Yeah I trust you', he had said. Draco thought back to way that made him feel, similar to the strange flutter of anticipation he felt whenever he approached the boy, but so much stronger. A strange well of warmth that made him, well, he wasn’t sure what it made him want to do. It was almost terrifying and yet he really didn’t want it to stop.

Harry didn't trust him though - it was all a lie. Not an intentional lie, more like a mistake. Harry was widely regarded as a trusting sort of boy, but he would never really trust a Slytherin – much less his worst enemy and long-time rival.

Draco frowned and placed the cloak back under the bed.

This has gone on too long, he decided (again). He would just have to return the cloak and then end this 'thing' whatever it was. Harry was not his friend and he would just have to get used to the idea.

***

"Who can tell me the properties of Nightshade?" Professor Snape asked, suddenly turning on his heel to face the class.

There was one hand desperately stretching out from amongst the Gryffindors.

"Anyone?" he asked in a mocking tone, as if oblivious to the gasping sounds Hermione was making.

"It’s used to bind other ingredients, to stabilise them," Draco said, not bothering to raise his hand before he spoke.

"Very good Mr Malfoy, 10 points to Slytherin."

The potions master turned back to the board to write this down, ignoring the outraged cry from a certain Gryffindor.

"On its own it’s also extremely poisonous," he continued, "it was once carried by witches and wizards who would rather die than be caught alive."

Harry suddenly found his interest perked.

"Even the tiniest amount when swallowed can lead to death in minutes," Snape said, pausing for dramatic effect. "For this reason it is only to be used by senior potions classes, where students are more capable," he turned his attention towards a nervous looking Neville, "or at least, that's the theory."

As the man turned back to the board, Harry found himself drawn to the nasty looking black mushroom sitting amongst the ingredients at his desk. He had a sudden desire to touch it or at least to look at it more closely.

Can lead to death in minuets, he thought.

"Does it hurt?" a Slytherin girl asked rasing her hand after she spoke.

"Not at all," the potions master replied turning from the board and sweeping into the middle of the room. "A person who ate even a whole mushroom would simply loose consciousness after a few minutes and never wakeup. It is completely painless."

Not even painful, Harry thought.

If he were to eat it he would merely fall asleep and never wake up. That didn’t sound so bad really – after all sleeping was supposed to be quite peaceful. The whole world would wake up the next day but he would not, things would go on without him. No one could ever make him do things anymore and he would never be able to hurt anyone ever again.

The Gryffindor reached out and picked up the smaller of the two mushrooms sitting on his desk. Hermione didn’t notice, her attention was fixated on the class. Someone else in the room did notice though, and he furrowed his brow in concern.

"I heard that Death Eaters used to carry some around. Better to die than to live out your life in Azkaban," Ron said as the Professor walked slowly back to the front of the class.

"Quite correct Mr Weasley. Raise your hand in future though – do try to remember this is class. Five points from Gryffindor."

Ron lowered his head and quietly fumed. He was also oblivious to Harry’s activities, as the boy began to toy with the strange fungus in his hand.

How could such a tiny thing bring an end to everything? Harry wondered. Everyone dies eventually and yet this mushroom allowed you to skip the bits in between. It was like a shortcut through time. It gave you a choice over something most people would never be able to control – how long they lived.

The classroom filled with the sounds of stools scraping across the stone floor and students talking loudly.

"You can cut up the ash yams Harry, I'm going to fill the cauldron," Ron said.

Harry nodded briefly to his friend before returning the mushroom to the pile of other ingredients.

"That man is the most bias teacher in the whole school I just don’t understand why the Headmaster lets him get away with it," Hermione growled.

"Cheer up Mione," Neville said smiling. "Think about the party tonight, that'll help keep you sane."

"Yeah!" Seamus eagerly joined in. "Ginny's birthday tonight, and tomorrow’s Saturday so we can get really plastered!"

"Under-age drinking is NOT going to become a regular feature of our parties," Hermione snapped.

Seamus, Neville and Ron collectively huffed at her but Harry wasn’t really listening. He was still somewhat distracted.

"What did you get her?" Neville asked.

It took Harry a few moments to realised the question was directed towards himself.

"Huh?" he asked stupidly.

"What did you get your girlfriend? For her birthday?" the boy asked again.

Harry felt familiar depressing thoughts take hold. He had forgotten about the party tonight. He had of course bought her a little present as he did every year. It wasn’t anything special or romantic – he didn’t want to make things worse after all.

"I heard her talking to her friends and I think she’s expecting something special this year," Seamus said, with a knowing wink.

Harry and Neville stared blankly back at him.

The Irish boy waited for Ron to fetch the water before lowering his voice conspiratorially.

"I think she’s expecting something a little more physical."

Harry began to feel a little nervous.

"Huh?" was Neville's response.

"I think she wants Harry to give it to her," he smirked. "You know take her virginity."

Neville blushed.

"Stop making things up," Harry blurted out, trying to conceal his rising panic.

"Its true, I overheard her talking in the common room the other night. Her friends were asking her what she wanted from you. I think she’s got something special planned."

Harry felt sick. This couldn’t be true, it was just Seamus being an idiot. Wasn’t it?

"You lucky dog," Seamus said, jabbing the other boy in the ribs with a grin.

A sudden silence befell the group as the potions master's shadow fell upon them.

"Are we going to get any work done here?" he asked menacingly.

The boys quickly returned to their tasks and didn’t dare speak for the rest of the class.

Harry barely noticed though, he was too dumbfounded by this little revelation. Him have sex with Ginny? The thought was just too awful to consider. He didn’t even want to be dating her let alone sleeping with her.

All of a sudden the truth of the whole mess of his relationship with Ginny seemed laid out before him. How long was he expecting before this sort of thing would come up after all? He was her boyfriend supposedly, what did he expect? Things to remain as some sort of exclusive friendship?

Harry began to panic. There was no way he was going to go through with this, he just wasn’t attracted to her in that way. Wasn’t really attracted to any girl in that way. Its one thing to hang around her and chat and maybe even hug or swap a peck on the cheek but getting naked was something entirely different. He just couldn’t do it.

Then he thought back to the seemingly innocent girl he daren't upset.

What else could he do though? He couldn’t reject her it would be too humiliating for her. They would have to break up and Ron would go back to hating him. Maybe they'd all find out he was ... different that way.

What else could he do?

"Crush the nightshade too Harry," Ron said when he returned to the desk. "We have to add that first don’t forget."

Still a little dazed, Harry turned his attention back to the pile of ingredients at his desk. He took the nightshade from the pile and placed it in the mortar. He reached for the pestle and was about to begin work when he stopped, hesitating for a moment.

He quickly checked to see if anyone was watching him and then removed the smaller of the two mushrooms from the bowl placing it on the desk instead. He waited again to see if anyone was watching before deftly swiping the black fungus from the table and slipped it into the pockets of his school robe.

***

Draco was in his room sulking. He had a ton of homework on the desk in his dorm room, but just couldn’t face doing anything about it. It was Friday night anyway – studying on a Friday was just plain sad. However he also couldn’t face the usual Slytherin get together in the common room either. Instead he lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling, trying hard not to think about stupid Harry Potter.

He was disturbed by a knock on the door and before he could stand Pansy had popped her head around the corner.

“Oh you are here Draco,” she said surprised. “I thought you had disappeared again.”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to enter a boy’s dorm uninvited?”

“Oh but it’s only me,” Pansy giggled, seemingly oblivious to his irritation.

“What do you want?”

“I just thought I’d try and convince you to come join us.”

“Thanks but I’m quite happy here,” he said.

“Why? What are you doing?”

“None of your business,” he snapped.

Pansy arched an eyebrow in response, but entered the room despite his unwelcoming tone.

“You are being so secretive lately Draco.”

The Slytherin noticed that strange gleam in her eye again as she wandered over to his bed and sat down next to him.

“Are you worried about this Sunday?” she asked casually.

“No,” he replied honestly. He really hadn’t thought much about having to meet his mother although he probably should have been. There was something odd about that situation.

“Maybe you should be,” Pansy said in a whisper.

Draco glared at her.

“What does that mean?” he asked, careful to conceal his disquiet.

The girl was smiling in a manner that made him uncomfortable.

“Oh nothing I’m sure.”

She got to her feet again and then walked over to the door.

“If you feel like you need to talk to someone, I’m always here,” she said with her back to him.

“Thank you Pansy dear, but I promise you everything is fine.”

The girl turned briefly and flashed him that strange smile again.

“If you say so Draco,” she said sweetly.

Moments later the boy was alone once more, only this time instead of sulking he was a little afraid. Pansy was onto something, or at least she thought she was. What was so special about this meeting with his mother anyway? How could Pansy know so much?

Maybe she suspected something about his polyjuice excursions. She was his partner in making the potion and she did know that he was using it. Maybe she had seen him with Harry?

Draco stood a resolution forming soundly in his mind.

The Harry thing had to end. Now, before it got him in serious trouble. He had to swear tonight that he wasn’t going to speak with the boy ever again.

However, the Slytherin’s eyes shifted over to the cloak resting on top of his trunk. He couldn’t just keep the damned thing. It wouldn’t be … well it just wouldn’t be right. He had to at least return it.

But he didn’t have to actually give it to Harry.

A plan began to form in the Slytherin’s mind.

It was a rather desperate plan, but it was a plan nonetheless.

***

Draco climbed the stairs of Gryffindor tower, unseen and unheard. He had the vial of polyjuice potion tucked into his robes, and was wearing Harry’s cloak and his own magical boots. The plan was simple. He would sneak into the Gryffindor dorm, dump the cloak, drink the polyjuice potion and then sneak out of the room again.

After this he would forget all about Harry and get on with his own life. It was the last dose of the potion he had left anyway. There was barely enough back in the potions lab for marking. He certainly wasn’t going to fail a potions assignment. He just hoped Snape wouldn’t notice how little was actually left.

As the boy neared the top of the stairs he could hear the faint sound of music and laughter.

Perfect, he thought. There would be no trouble getting in and out of there with all that ruckus. He neared the portrait of the fat lady prepared to wait. He had only been there a few minutes when the portrait suddenly swung open, accompanied by an assault of noise from the party within.

An irate Ron Weasley stomped out of the room, with a face as red as his hair.

Draco tried to take advantage of the situation but was almost bowled over by an equally irate Granger.

“Just what the hell is wrong with you,” she yelled.

“You are what’s wrong with me!” Ron spat turning on his heal.

“Your being such an arse tonight Ron Weasley!”

As interesting as this little lover’s tiff was shaping out to be, Draco decided it was best not to hang around. Instead he popped into the common room moments before the portrait swung shut.

He almost immediately bumped into a senior Gryffindor girl he didn’t recognise. She stumbled onto her hands and knees and howled loudly. Before the Slytherin could even begin to panic though there was a sudden burst of laughter from the crowed room followed by shouts and catcalls.

“Can’t handle your drink?” someone shouted.

The girl sat cross legged and giggled hysterically.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Gryffindor’s drinking underage – he never would have imagined. It could not be more perfect though, he could hardly be caught with all this going on.

The Slytherin carefully made his way through the throngs of people trying to minimise any physical contact, not that anyone would notice. He involuntarily scanned the room for Harry but quickly stopped himself. He was NOT here to meet with Harry.

Draco eventually got to the other side of the room and watched to see which staircase lead to the boy’s dorm. A few younger Gryffindor boys charged down the nearest staircase and so he guessed it was that one. He then quickly climbed the stairs counting the levels as he went. Gryffindors were such a predicable bunch of people – fancy having seven floors and seven years of students. It was hardly difficult to work out which room was Harry’s.

The Slytherin stopped at the sixth floor and nervously approached the door to listen. The din from downstairs was too loud to hear anything so he just took a risk and opened the door. The room was empty and so he quietly slipped through and into the dorm.

The bed second from the entrance had a familiar broom stick resting by the trunk. It was a firebolt that could only have belonged to Harry Potter. The Slytherin also noticed there were a number of lit candles about the bed and a pleasant aroma coming from a lamp nearby.

He approached the bed, but froze when the door suddenly swung open and the sounds of the party assaulted him once again.

Ginny Weasley burst into the room laughing and for a moment Draco feared he had picked the wrong dorm. However, he soon realised she was dragging Harry behind her. They made their way over to his bed and Draco was forced to leap out of the way, stumbling onto one of the other beds just in time. Fortunately he didn’t make a sound as he did so thanks to the magic of the boots he was wearing.

“Ginny shouldn’t we be down stairs? We can’t skip your own party you know?” Harry asked, noticeably nervous.

“Oh I don’t think anyone will mind,” the girl replied with a mischievous smile.

She stopped in front of his bed and tugged on his hand to bring him closer. She took his other hand in her own and stood on her toes to kiss him. It was a fleeting gesture but nonetheless Draco found himself extremely angry at her. Surely she could tell from the boy’s expression he wasn’t comfortable. Why didn’t she get the hint already? What the hell was she thinking?

The Slytherin then took note of the dress she was wearing and suddenly realised exactly what she was thinking. Empty candle lit room, sweet smelling aroma and a one piece evening gown cut low across her almost non-existence bust line.

Harry must have realised about the same time and he started backing away, panic barely concealed. He brushed at his hair fretfully and glanced about the room.

“Look Ginny really I think …” he began to stutter but was silenced as the girl reached out and placed a finger across his lips.

“Shh,” she whispered, gently lifting the black rimmed glasses from his face.

She folded them neatly in her hands and turned to rest them on the nearby night stand.

“Harry,” she began softly, still not facing him as she gently sat down on the bed. “You know I love you don’t you?” she asked.

Draco watched as Harry stared at his feet, clearly trying to conceal his thoughts and feelings.

“You’ve made me the happiest girl in the world. Ever since I first heard about you I was infatuated with you and ever since you saved my life I knew I loved you.”

“Ginny …”

“Oh I know you save everyone Harry,” she cut him off. “You are a heroic guy after all. The most noble, honest and caring person in the world. I know you’d save anyone if they needed it but that doesn’t make it any less special for me.”

Draco could see the effect her words were having on him, could almost feel his growing despair. This was exactly what the Gryffindor did not need at the moment. Something to make him feel even more guilty. The girl did seem to notice something, but was clearly misinterpreting the situation. She slowly stood and moved over to where the boy had backed off to. She lifted his head with her hands and stared deeply into his eyes.

“Ever since that night when you first kissed me I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been in my life,” she said in a soft and silky voice.

Harry made a choking sound and began to shake slightly.

The girl leaned over to him and brought her face close to his ear.

“I want you to be my first Harry Potter,” she whispered.

She then took a small step back and fiddled with her dress until it slipped seamlessly from her shoulders and onto the floor. The dark red silk gathered at her feet leaving her in nothing but a set of white lingerie.

“You mean everything to me,” she whispered.

Harry’s lower lip trembled and his eyes started to water.

“Ginny, I …” he stumbled, as tears started to make their way down his face. “I can’t go through with this.”

The girl’s peaceful smile was suddenly shattered, replaced with a look of astonishment and horror.

“I don’t feel about you that way,” he said.

She backed away slowly and stumbled onto the bed all the while staring at him in disbelief.

“You’re a really great girl but I just don’t … I just don’t feel that way.”

Ginny brought a hand to her face in shock. Draco could see Harry was equally upset and he drew near him involuntarily. He quickly realised what he was doing though and backed away again slowly.

“I think we should break up,” Harry finished too ashamed to even look at the girl.

Ginny gasped as tears began to flow from her own eyes. She grabbed at the dress on the floor and frantically tried to dress herself quickly. She kept getting tangled though and staggered to the floor.

“I’m sorry Ginny really I am,” Harry cried reaching out to help her.

“Don’t touch me,” she screamed, the cry so loud it made Draco’s ears ring.

Harry flinched back in surprise.

The girl managed to get her dress back on and stumbled past him.

“Ginny please!”

“STOP IT!” she screamed.

“But …”

“STOP IT! STOP TALKING! STOP TALKING! JUST STOP TALKING!” she cried almost feverishly as tears poured down her cheeks.

He tried to reach out to her again but she pushed him away violently.

“STOP IT! JUST STOP IT! GO AWAY,” she choked through sobs of anguish. “Just leave me alone.”

She ran from the room and slammed the door loudly.

Harry sunk to the floor and sat with his back against the bed and his head resting in his lap. Draco could see the boy shuddering with tears. He found himself trying to call out to him, but could not make a sound.

Harry began to shout out incoherent cries of anguish as he pounded his hands against the cold stone floor.

“What’s wrong with me?” he screamed out to the empty room, fists bloodied from the battering.

Draco frantically tried to approach the boy forgetting all about his promise not to interfere, but the Gryffindor was already on his feet. Harry kicked at his nightstand and flailed his hands about in torment. He then ran from the room before the Slytherin could even get near him.

Draco ran after him, stumbling down the stairs and pushing past the masses of Gryffindors in the common room desperate to catch up with the boy. He followed him out through the portrait and ran down the stairs in pursuit. He stumbled on one of the railings though and momentarily lost balance falling silently onto his hands and knees.

He felt something come loose in his robes and watched in horror as an opaque vial sprung free. The tiny glass tube bounced down the stairs as the Slytherin darted out his hands to grab at it. It landed on a nearby step and then rolled across the stone paving and fell from the edge of the staircase.

Draco got to his feet again and continued to run down the stairs. He could still make out Harry’s frantic flight although the boy was far ahead by now. As he reached the bottom of the staircase he stared in dismay at the smashed pieces of glass and the few remaining drops of potion sinking into the stone floor.

What to do? He thought frantically. Harry needed him, the boy was more upset now than ever before. More upset than he had been on that first day and more desperate than Draco had ever seen another person.

The Gryffindor had abruptly halted his flight and was resting against the stone wall of the corridor. He glanced up and down the hallway wildly for a moment and then began to beat his fists against the wall again.

“Stop it Harry!” Draco cried out silently, close to tears himself. He took the opportunity to catch up with the now hysterical Gryffindor and was sickened to see blood flowing from his hands. He called out his name again, but was still unable to make a sound. He began to tug at the boots to remove them but stopped as the rational part of his mind screamed at him to stop and think things through.

Harry didn’t know he had been speaking with the Slytherin the past week and would freak out if Draco Malfoy approached like this.

Harry was so desperately distraught though – Draco couldn’t just abandon him he had to do something.

The Slytherin reached out to grab hold of the boy and stop him injuring himself, but his rational mind stopped him again. He wared inwardly with himself swinging his arms around in frustration. Harry was less than a meter away and yet he could do nothing. He needed more of the potion. There was still some left in his locker he would just have to use it and fail the potions assignment.

“Wait here!” Draco shouted pointlessly.

He broke into a wild run, sprinting down the corridor towards the Slytherin dungeons. He slammed into the potions lab door and fidgeted frantically with the handle. It was locked.

The Slytherin suddenly remembered their potions class earlier that day - the black mushroom he had seen Harry playing with.

He wouldn’t surely?

Draco quickly muttered a spell to open the door and burst inside. He frantically opened his locker and searched for the remainder of his polyjuice project.

There was only a folded piece of paper inside.

The Slytherin unfolded the note with shaking fingers.

Draco/Pansy

Polyjuice Potion …. 92%

Excellent work!

Consistency and texture exact.

Almost full marks except for the low yield.

You should be able to produce at least 5 doses from the ingredients I gave you.

Well done nonetheless.

Professor Snape.

Draco stumbled back from the locker aghast.

Now what was he going to do?

***