The Enchanted Pool

Harry Potter was not having a good day. He had overslept and missed breakfast, causing his stomach to growl alarmingly all morning. He had not finished his scroll on a hundred uses of Sleeping Potions, which resulted in yet another detention from Professor Snape. But the worst thing of all was the reason he had been unable to finish his scroll, or make it to breakfast on time. Hermione and Ron were suddenly a couple.

He wasn't sure when their relationship had changed, but it had. They had all been working on their potions scrolls together in the Gryffindor common room the night before. Hermione had been explaining something to Ron and had been leaned in very close, her mouth brushing delicately against his ear. Ron had blushed hotly and turned to face her, and the look that had been passed between them caused Harry to look away in shock. The warm glow of the firelight made the common room seem bright and cheerful. He heard an echo of laughter from across the room. Harry couldn't stand it. He picked up his scroll abruptly and stood up, causing the ink well they were sharing to tip over and spread slowly, blood-like, across the table.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione and Ron were both on their feet now staring at him. The laughter from across the room had stilled.

"Is it your scar?"

The worry he sensed in Ron's voice made him feel sick. "You wouldn't understand!" he shouted. Ron reached his hand out as if to steady him, and Harry quickly backed away. The warmth from the fire was scorching his back. "Just leave me alone!"

Harry turned, and ran up the stairs to the boys dormitory. He threw himself on his bed and curled up in a bell, his breath coming in harsh puffs as he tried to block out what he had seen. No one followed him to see if he was all right. They had gotten used to his outbursts and strange moods since Sirius had died. Most of the Gryffindors avoided him, but Hermione and Ron were constantly by his side, just like always. He knew he should be happy for them, but instead of happiness all he could feel was a dull ache in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't happy about it. But he told himself that it didn't bother him either. For some reason he couldn't sleep that night.

The following day he overslept and missed breakfast. When potions came around he realized he still hadn't finished his stupid essay. Snape obviously wasn't going to let him get away with such a thing, and assigned him detention after taking away twenty house points. He was beginning to think the day couldn't get any worse. By the time lunch came around, he was ravenous. Harry sat with Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table and listened with indifference to the happy chatter around him as he ate. They pretended like nothing had happened, as usual, and Harry was grateful. When he had first started getting angry, after Sirius' death, everything had been an issue. They watched him with worried eyes and prodded him with questions. But they never mentioned Sirius, or anything that had happened. Gradually, they had grown accustomed to the way he was now.

Harry looked up from his food to see Ginny Weasley staring at him from across the table. She looked worried. He glared at her and she immediately broke eye contact and looked down at her plate. He could see tears welling up in her eyes. She hadn't actually approached him in months, but she always seemed to be watching him at the strangest moments. He hated it. He turned to look at Hermione who was talking animatedly to Ron about their Transfiguration projects. Ron appeared not to be listening and was instead looking at Ginny. Time to escape.

"I'm going to go to class now. I have to ask Professor Lupin something." Hermione nodded and he stood up to go. But Ron stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"I have to talk to you about something, Harry." His voice was deadly serious.

Uh, oh. Ron must have seen the look he had given Ginny. Even though he let Harry get away with a lot he could still be the fiercely protective older brother at times. "I can't talk right now, Ron. I have to ask Professor Lupin a question before class begins." Ron's grip on his wrist didn't loosen, and he stared at Harry with a mixture of annoyance and concern. Harry felt suddenly inexplicably guilty about the fact that Ron still cared about him, despite everything he had done to push him away. He certainly didn't deserve that kind of loyalty from anyone.

"Sorry, Ron." His voice was barely audible, but he knew Ron heard him.

"Just make sure you tell Ginny that later." Ron released his wrist and he fled from The Great Hall as quickly as possible.

Having nothing else to do he decided to go to Defense Against the Dark Arts early after all. He liked talking to Lupin who had returned to his position after Umbridge left, at Dumbledore's insistence. With the war at a temporary standstill people seemed to have other things to do besides complain about the fact that a werewolf was teaching their children. He turned the corner that marked the approach to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and came to an abrupt stop. Someone was screaming at Professor Lupin. It didn't take him long to recognize the voice as Draco Malfoy's. He had certainly heard him yelling enough times in the past.

"My father should have never allowed you to become part of this school's staff again! I'm going to owl him right now and have you dismissed!"

"Draco, calm down." Lupin's voice was barely audible and Harry had to strain to hear it. He moved a little further down the corridor, careful to stay out of view. "I'm just telling you the truth. If you don't start turning assignments in, your marks are going to be seriously affected. This isn't like you."

"You don't know me Lupin! If you did you would know that I don't care about my marks in this class or any other. Do whatever you want. But, pack your bags in the meantime. You won't be here much longer after I talk to my father about you!"

"Your father already knows about my teaching position, Draco. Don't you think he would have already done something if he could? I think he would be much more interested the fact that his only son is currently failing almost all of his subjects. Defense Against the Dark Arts isn't the only class you're doing poorly in. And I want to know why."

"Tell my father whatever you want, Lupin. Just stay the hell away from me! I'm not your charity case. Potter's the one who needs you to mother him. I already have parents."

Harry gave a sharp intake of breath at the mention of his name, and both Lupin and Malfoy turned to look at him. Neither said anything, and Harry was surprised at how pale Malfoy looked, his grey eyes dull and lifeless.

Malfoy managed to recover from his shock at seeing him there quickly. "Spying on me, Potter? I should have suspected as much from you. Too much time on your hands now that you're The Boy Who Wallows in Self-Pity?"

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy!" Harry felt a surge of anger flood through him. No one made him angry the way Malfoy did. No one.

"That's enough, Malfoy." Lupin's voice was still strangely calm. "Detention tomorrow night at six oEclock. Come to my office. You too, Harry."

"Me? What did I do?" He didn't bother to hide his indignation.

"Nothing at all. Professor Snape merely asked me to take care of your detention as well, as he is currently engaged in more important matters."

Harry suddenly remembered that idiotic essay that was still sitting by his bed, unfinished. He certainly would have tried harder to finish it if he had known he was going to be serving detention with Malfoy. Annoyingly, Malfoy didn't seem at all upset about his detention. He had an indifferent look on his arrogant face as he lifted his eyes to meet Harry's. Harry suppressed a shiver at their iciness.

"See you tomorrow, Potter." Harry watched him walk away and tried not to think about the following day.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Lupin's voice broke into his thoughts and Harry fought back a bitter response. He couldn't think of a question that he was more tired of hearing.

"I'm fine. What's wrong with Malfoy all of a sudden?"

"You'll have to ask him that. I certainly couldn't get anything out of him.E Lupin looked at him piercingly. "Are you worried about Malfoy?"

"No, of course not, why would I be?" Harry spoke more sharply than he had intended.

"Well, you did just ask me what I thought was wrong with him," Lupin replied.

"I don't know, he seemed strange. Like he didn't care about anything anymore."

Lupin's face was unreadable. "That's exactly what I thought."

Their conversation was cut short as the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws began arriving for their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Hermione and Ron appeared holding hands, but promptly pulled apart when they saw Harry. "What's going on, Harry? Did you ask Professor Lupin your question?" Hermione looked extremely concerned, probably because she thought his question involved schoolwork.

"No, I didn't get the chance. I'll tell you what happened later." Ron and the other students went to take their seats in the classroom as Harry and Hermione hovered in the hallway. Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"Are you upset about Ron and me, Harry?"

"No, why would I be?" His voice sounded painfully forced even to his own ears.

"I just thought last night you seemed upset after..." her voice trailed off.

"Look, Hermione, whatever you and Ron want to do is none of my business."

"Harry..."

"Please take your seats." Lupin's voice rang loudly in the empty corridor and they both jumped.

"We'll talk about this later," said Hermione firmly. She then looked at him in a no-nonsense kind of way and Harry decided he was going to be extremely busy later. Talking to Ron and Hermione about their so-called relationship was not the way he wanted to spend his evening. He managed to avoid having a talk with Hermione that night mainly due to the fact that he actually was very busy. He had quidditch practice and then had to finish the essay on sleeping potions that he had avoided doing the night before. Hermione seemed too busy playing exploding snap with Ron and nagging him about Transfiguration homework to remember that she was supposed to talk to Harry anyway. Lying in bed that night he found himself thinking about Malfoy's confrontation with Lupin. Malfoy threatening people certainly wasn't anything unusual. But it did seem strange that Malfoy, who was so afraid of his father hadn't seemed to care when Lupin had mentioned telling his father about his low marks. And why was Malfoy doing so badly anyway? He was usually right behind Hermione and sometimes ahead of her in classes like Potions where he had a definite advantage. But the real question was why did Harry care at all? He hadn't even given Malfoy a thought in months, and now he couldn't get Malfoy out of his head. He had just seemed so hopeless.

Harry arrived exactly five minutes late for his detention the next day and Malfoy wasn't there. Maybe he wasn't coming after all. For some reason, the thought was disappointing.

"I'm afraid it's the usual today, Harry. You and Malfoy will be cleaning the trophy room without the use of magic," Lupin said.

"But Malfoy's not even here." Harry felt inclined to point out the obvious.

"Oh, he got here quite early, so I already sent him ahead," Lupin replied.

"What! He's here?"

"Yes, I think perhaps he thought if he got here early I would let him leave early and you two would have to spend less time together. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way."

"It doesn't?" Harry thought it seemed like a good idea anyway.

"No, Professor Snape specified that your detention was to last for three hours beginning at six o'clock, and he insisted Malfoy's end at the same time. He is quite disappointed in Mr. Malfoy's recent classroom performance. Of course since you are a bit late your detention will end when your three hours is up."

"Oh." Harry tried not to cringe at the idea of three hours with Malfoy. "I guess I'll go get started then."

"I assume I don't have to escort you?" Lupin asked.

Harry shook his head and walked out of the office. A few minutes later he entered the trophy room. Malfoy had his back to him and was looking out the window. Harry couldn't imagine what he found so interesting about the Hogwarts grounds. His light hair was getting long and brushed the collar of his cloak. His posture was more relaxed than usual. Harry assumed it was because he wasn't trying to intimidate anyone for once. He cleared his throat and Malfoy turned with a start. This time Harry couldn't help but notice the dark shadows under his eyes.

"Finally decided to show up, Potter?" Malfoy spoke in his usual arrogant drawl and Harry relaxed.

"It doesn't exactly look like you're doing any work." Harry gestured pointedly at the cleaning supplies and bucket sitting untouched on the floor.

"I don't plan on doing any. Malfoys don't get their hands dirty."

Harry looked at him incredulously. "If you don't do any work you'll just be back here again, tomorrow."

"What do you care, Potter?"

What did he care? If Malfoy wanted to slave away in detention every day for the rest of the year, it shouldn't make any difference to him. "Do whatever you want, Malfoy. Just be prepared to lose the next quidditch game. I don't think your team will get very far if they have to replace you as seeker."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Potter. But that doesn't matter to me anymore. And I certainly don't think quidditch matters to you."

"What do you mean?" Harry found it difficult to contemplate a world in which Draco Malfoy no longer cared about beating him at quidditch.

"I mean that you haven't put any effort into quidditch for months. But you still catch the snitch every time. It doesn't matter whether I go to practice or not."

Harry couldn't deny what Malfoy said. He could barely remember a time when quidditch had been important to him. Now it was just something he did, like eating or sleeping. It had no meaning to him anymore. Harry reached down and picked up a rag. "I'm going to get started. Feel free to have detention everyday for the rest of your life if that's what you want."

"Maybe that's exactly what I want," Malfoy replied quietly. He then walked back over to the window and continued to gaze out.

Harry worked for about an hour, polishing and cleaning each trophy in turn. He came to the one with his father's name and spent extra time on it. He rubbed his finger gently over the gold plating, cold to the touch. In fact the temperature in the room seemed decidedly colder than when he had arrived. He glanced over at Malfoy to see if he had noticed the cold and huffed in irritation. Malfoy had opened the window. He had opened the window and it was snowing outside. Snowflakes were drifting in the window and melting on Malfoy's fair hair, catching in his eyelashes. For some reason, Malfoy had removed his cloak, and it was lying on the floor beside him. He wore only his regular clothes beneath it.

"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy? It's freezing outside!" There was no response. The other boy didn't even look in his direction. "Hello?" Still getting no response he walked over and shut the window himself, pushing Malfoy out of the way. Malfoy seemed to come alive at his touch and pushed him back, hard. There was a strange intensity behind the grey eyes, and suddenly they were struggling, fighting for control. Malfoy slammed him against a table, and a trophy toppled to the ground with a crash. He shoved Malfoy back and they both ended up on the floor. Malfoy knocked his glasses off and in an instant, everything was a blur.

Harry somehow managed to pin Malfoy's hands to the floor and used his his own body to hold him down. The other boy's skin was icy cold where it touched his own, and he was suddenly very glad he had made him move away from the window. Malfoy was pale enough. They both lay there for several minutes breathing hard. Malfoy was shaking, whether from the cold, or from their fight he wasn't certain. Gradually, the shaking stopped and his breathing slowed. His hands were still pinned beneath Harry's own, but his breath was warm where it misted against Harry's face, and his cheeks were faintly flushed now. For some reason, Harry didn't want to move. Malfoy didn't tolerate their position for long.

"What the hell are you doing, Potter? Get off me now!"

Malfoy's voice jerked him out of the strange trance he was in. What was he doing? Abruptly, Harry released him and stood up.

Malfoy clamored to a sitting position. "You broke my finger!" He was cradling his left hand with an unhappy expression.

"I didn't break your finger. You're being a baby, Malfoy," Harry replied quietly.

"I'm not being a baby, Potter. Malfoy's have very delicate bones. Not that you would understand that."

"Let me see your finger, Malfoy."

"Why?" Malfoy glared at him suspiciously.

"Just let me see it." Hestitantly, Malfoy held his hand out and Harry knelt to take it gently.

"If this makes it worse in any way, Potter, I swear I will..."

"Malfoy, please calm down. This is in your best interest."

"I hardly think you could possibly know what's in my best interest, Potter." Still, he didn't pull away, and holding Malfoy's wrist with one hand he pulled out his wand with the other. Aiming it at Malfoy's injured finger he uttered a simple healing spell.

"Feel better?" He smiled at the surprised look on Malfoy's face.

"Where did you learn that? We aren't supposed to learn healing spells until the end of seventh year." Malfoy was still looking at him suspiciously.

"Sirius taught me. I think he thought it was something I really needed to know. With the war and everything," his voice trailed off.

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence. And then Malfoy looked at him hopefully.

"Could you teach me?"

Harry smiled grimly. "That depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Depends on you telling me the truth about whatever's going on with you."

For an instant Malfoy looked taken aback, but he quickly recovered. "There's nothing going on with me, Potter. Besides the fact that I'm stuck in a room with you for three hours and was almost permanently maimed."

Harry shrugged. "Then let's get out of here. We still have a long time before anyone will come looking for us. And Lupin trusts me."

"How nice for you. But that doesn't change the fact that the weather outside isn't exactly suitable for picnics in the park."

"The cold certainly wasn't bothering you before," Harry said pointedly. "And besides, I'll be there to keep you warm." He had the satisfaction of seeing a blush spread across Malfoy's pale cheeks.

To Be ContinuedE