Ten Days

Ten Days

Chapter Nine: Fantasy Disguised

You are never given a wish without also being given the power to make it come true.

Snape placed his quill on his desk. "Let's see what you've done, Potter." He rose from his desk and went to the other side of the room, where Harry was polishing one of the last of the jars. He leered down on Harry and took the jar he was currently polishing out of his hand.

After studying the jar in his hand for a moment, he spoke. "Not good enough, Potter," he declared while putting the jar on the shelf. Harry glared in return; he said nothing. "Well, it's only a little after eleven. Looks like you'll have to do them all over again." Without even giving Harry a chance to respond, Snape walked back to his chair and sat down.

This was not fair. Harry did not do anything. Yet, he was standing here, in Snape's office, polishing jars of potion ingredients until only who knows when.

There was one thing for sure: Draco showed Harry his true colours that night. That was just about the only thing Harry was sure about. He wasn't sure about anything else.

He still didn't have a clue about how he fell. Draco had to have lied to him either way. There was no way Harry would have just jumped like that, and there was no way in this world that Harry would kiss Draco.

He didn't like boys, he couldn't have -- and he especially didn't like Draco. Draco obviously didn't like Harry back. Why else would he get Harry into trouble so he could spent five more detentions with him?

With him. Harry had five more detentions with Draco. It's what Draco planned, wasn't it? For Harry and Draco to share another five detentions. What else Draco had in store, Harry didn't want to imagine. Whatever it was, it was not going to be good.

Just then, Harry noticed he was polishing the same jar for ten minutes. He had to stop thinking about Draco. Harry placed the jar down and picked up another one.

***

Draco's heart was pounding.

Things couldn't be any better. Minutes from now, Draco will be in his dorm, and taking the potion. He'll make his wish, and it'll come true. It was simple as that.

In less than a day, hopefully, Draco will have what he's wished for. He was one-hundred percent sure of what he was wishing for.

It had been a difficult decision. At first, he did not know which to chose, but as time went on, he began to see what he really wanted. And typically, whatever Draco wanted, it was what he got.

And that was exactly what was going to happen. Draco was going to get what he wanted.

***

Harry sighed. It was past midnight, he was sure, and he had a feeling he wasn't going to be leaving Snape's office any time soon.

He wrist was beginning to ache from cleaning so much, and he was developing a headache from the polish. Ever-so-often, the room would begin to spin, but Harry didn't dare let Snape see any signs of this discomfort. Harry was positive if Snape noticed, he wouldn't give Harry a break. He would most likely do the opposite, and give him even more work.

So Harry polished, and he polished. After all, he might as well get used to all this work, since he'll be doing much more of it during his next five detentions, with his ever-so-favourite person in the world, Draco Malfoy.

Harry hated Draco, just like he was supposed to. He hated everything about Draco. He hated the way he spoke -- better yet, not the way he spoke, the way he drawled out his words as if he had all the time in the world. The way he would stick his nose up in the air, as though he was he was better than everybody else. Not that Harry really took notice of any of these things.

He wasn't infatuated by Draco and the way he would go to brush his hair back with his right hand every five minutes, whether there was hair blocking his face or not....

You're thinking about him again, Harry reminded himself.

I've really got to stop doing this.

***

Draco muttered the password and entered the Slytherin common room. He had twenty minutes to spare before the potion expired, but he wasn't going to take his chances. He was going to go straight to his room.

Straight to his trunk, at the foot of his bed where the vial containing the Wishing Potion was.

To his unpleasant surprise, the common room wasn't so empty as he anticipated. There were at least ten other Slytherins still out of bed. One of them, just happened to be Pansy Parkinson, who noticed his entrance immediately.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, putting everything aside and rushing over to him.

"I really don't --"

"So how was detention with The Boy Who Doesn't Remember His Own Name?" She happened to find this very funny. So did a few other Slytherin students, who overhead and were now in a fit of laughter.

Draco, on the other hand, did not find this funny. "Just splendid," he replied dryly, "Now if you'll excuse me...."

"I'm sure Professor Snape gave him a hard time, eh?"

"Oh, you know him. But really," he said as he tried his best to pass her, "I need to do something important."

"Aw, Draky!" Draco shuddered; he hated when she (or anyone else) called him that. "What could possibly be more important than me!"

"Everything," he said flatly.

Pansy forged a pout. "Oh, you don't mean that."

"Yes, I do. Now if you would be so kind to --"

"Is something wrong?"

He stared blankly at her. "I'd rather not talk about it." He walked right past her.

"But, if I find out you've been fooling around with... Potter or someone, I'm not going to be happy person."

She obviously meant this to be a joke, Draco shrugged it off at that and made his way to his dorm.

He was so close now.

***

Harry was getting more and more exhausted by the minute. It had to be at least one in the morning now and Snape still wasn't letting him leave. Harry wasn't going to bother asking to be excused.

Every ten minutes or so, Snape would rise up from his desk, walk up to Harry and say that whatever Harry was doing wasn't good enough, or just flat-out wrong. Harry had no other choice but to suck it up and polish the jars the best that he could, hoping that Snape would let him leave eventually.

"It's nearly one thirty, Potter," said Professor Snape, "and you have my class first thing in the morning, which I would prefer you not to be late to. Therefore, I am excusing you. Just for this reason." He pointed to the door dully. "You may go."

"After all," he added after a moment, "I'm sure we'll see each other in detention again sometime soon."

"Good night, sir." Harry put down his things, nodded and left the office without saying another word.

About time, he thought to himself, as the door shut behind him. Then it hit him:

Harry wasn't certain how to get back to his dorms.

***

The dorm was quiet. Everyone was in the common room. Taking was turning out to be a simple task after all.

Draco made his way to his bed eagerly. He picked up his pillow, and revealed the copy of Wishes, Wants, and Worries. He picked it up and placed it down on his bed, and placed the pillow back.

He walked over to the trunk where he kept the potion, and kneeled down in front of it. Draco lifted the lid slowly, reached his hand into grab the pair of socks in which the potion was safely tucked away. He closed the trunk lid and brought the wrapped-up potion to his bed.

Sitting himself down in front of the book, he unravelled the socks and slid the vial with the ice blue potion inside into his palm. The potion seemed to be a lighter colour than Draco left it, but he supposed this was normal.

He flipped to the Wishing Potion page in the book. Draco made sure he had done everything on the list. All he had to do was mess one thing up, and the consequences could be serious -- fatal, even. Draco didn't want to wind up drinking a poison.

He mentally checked off all the things that he had to do, and all the ingredients he had to put in. He did everything he had to do except for one thing; Draco had to now take the potion.

He will have to let the potion sit in his mouth while he held his breath and count to thirty-three slowly. When he hits thirty, he is to make the wish. When he hits thirty-two he's to swallow the potion in one quick gulp. It gave no further instructions.

He opened the vial and stared long and hard at the potion. Once the potion was in his mouth, there was no turning back. Was this what he wanted? His answer was immediate, it was.

"Here goes nothing," was the last thing he said before he poured the blue liquid into his mouth.

***

Harry looked around, for a sign of where to go. He had no idea where he was, and maybe if he weren't so sick, he might have been able to think of a way back to his dorm sooner. As of now, he had no idea how he was going to get back.

So he stood there and looked around. "I don't believe it," he whispered to himself. Harry wished he paid more attention when he was on the way to Snape's office. He didn't expect Draco to leave early. He didn't expect Draco to get him into trouble.

The only thing that he thought of, was to pick a random direction and go with it. He wasn't sure if this was the best idea, but it was the only one he had. What was he supposed to do? Sit around the same place until school started?

Harry kept his eyes peeled for a sign of something -- anything -- that looked familiar. He let himself get his hopes up when he heard footsteps, which only turned out to be his own echoing in the empty halls.

It was freezing in the castle. Harry hadn't noticed before in Snape's office; there was a fire burning in the fireplace. Now, he felt it more than ever. There were torches, but they were not any help at all. In hope of warming up, Harry walked faster.

He had no idea if he was going in the right direction or not. He just wanted to keep moving. He heard stories about a poltergeist, Peeves. This was one... thing Harry didn't want to run into at this time of night. From what he understood, Peeves would probably wind up shouting at him or something that was equally annoying.

No. Harry didn't want to run into Peeves at all.

Luckily, he took a walk in the right direction and in less than a few minutes, found himself in the Entrance Hall. Harry let out a sigh of relief and walked to his room.

***

Draco held his breath and started counting.

He must have swallowed a small amount of potion, because he already felt... different. He tried not to lose count. Ten. The potion was cold in his mouth -- freezing his mouth, is what it felt like. It hurt. It felt as if he had liquid ice in his mouth.

The cold didn't stay just in his mouth, the wintry sensation travelled down to his jaw, down his neck, down to his chest. It froze his lungs; he flinched as his body begged for air. Fifteen.

In moments Draco almost knew what it felt to be frozen, unable to move, and cold. He didn't even notice dropping the empty vial on the floor. He was barely able to hear it shatter. He had ten seconds left. He couldn't give up now. His stomach tensed up and he doubled over. His body made another desperate plea for air. He resisted breathing by cupping his right hand over his mouth and pinning his nose shut. Twenty-five.

His ears started to ring, his vision blurred, he started to forget where he was. For a second, he almost thought he forgot who he was. He would have bitten his lip if he didn't feel so numb. He nearly lost track of the count. Twenty-seven. Three more seconds before he made his wish. Twenty-nine.

On thirty, Draco made his wish and concentrated as hard as he could on it. He now understood why the potion was so easy to make, the experience itself was horrible. Every inch of him felt solid and cold as ice, yet he felt a lightness that made him feel like keeping himself on the ground was a task. It was the utmost uncomfortable feeling. Thirty-one.

Draco braced himself to swallow the potion. He feared what could happen after. Would everything go back to normal? Or would the symptoms get worse? Draco didn't know the answer, but he had to swallow the potion, and he had to do it now.

In one quick gulp Draco swallowed the potion. Almost immediately, a white-hot pain ripped through his body. From the inside out, he began to warm up and his condition was now reversed from being extremely cold, to painfully hot. Thirty three.

Draco let out a loud gasp for air. He could barely see in front of him, however, he knew he was alone in the room. He felt as if there were a thousand flames inside of him, licking at his insides, burning him up from the inside out. He wanted the pain to go away.

He grabbed on to the side of his bed for support. The heat only intensified. He was sweating now. He panted and wiped the sweat off his brow. He shut his eyes as hard as possible, his clenched the covers of his bed. Before his knew it, his knees buckled and he fell on them.

He heard nothing, he saw nothing, and all he was able to feel was this boiling sensation tearing up his insides. He wasn't going to be able to take it much longer. It was only getting worse and worse. He opened his eyes, he was able to see a small bit before the room started to spin. He slammed his eyes shut.

He took a deep breath, which did no good; it was like breathing in fire. He opened his eyes again, his vision wasn't very good now, but he was able to see . His body was still in pain, he hoped he had taken the right potion. He looked around and his eyes settled on the book.

He looked at the page to double check. The ringing in his ears increased. He saw something written at the bottom, that he swore wasn't there before he took the potion:

Be careful what you wish for.

Then everything went black.

***

Harry poked at his food in the Great Hall. He wasn't hungry; he was still thinking about last night and what happened. He wondered when his next detention would be. He glanced up from his food to look around the hall, and saw Ron and Hermione entering and making their way through a group of the younger students who had crowded up by the door.

Out of curiosity, and nothing but that, Harry glanced at the Slytherin table only to find that Draco wasn't there yet. He then thought nothing of this and went back to looking down and poking his food.

Ron and Hermione reached Harry and took a seat in front him. "We were up late waiting for you. Where were you, mate?" Ron asked as he reached for a slice of toast.

"Detention," Harry replied flatly, not looking up from his food.

"Should have known," Ron replied. "Snape give you a hard time, I'm sure."

Harry nodded bleakly. "Gave me five more detentions, too."

"You've got to be kidding me! You don't even remember who you are, isn't that enough?" Ron threw his right hand in the air, which unfortunately, was the hand holding his toast. The toast went flying backwards, but didn't hit anyone. "Whoops."

Hermione shot Ron a dirty look and turned to Harry. "Well, how serious could he have been? You didn't do anything, did you?" she asked.

"Well, I didn't do anything, it's just Malfoy --"

"He got you in trouble, didn't he?" Ron cut in, "that prat's always out for you, you know, and it sure isn't the first time he got you into trouble."

"What did he do now?"

"Well," Harry started, "he just took a potion ingredient and dropped it... And made it look like I did it."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "In front of Professor Snape?"

Ron, taking up another slice of toast, rolled his eyes. "Of course it was in front of Snape. I mean, it had to have been. He wouldn't just leave -- besides, Snape wants Harry to have detention and be miserable just as much as Malfoy does."

"He was out of the room, Ron. Malfoy took a jar Snape told me not to touch and he dropped it. After he dropped it he started yelling at me, like it was my fault. Then Snape walked back in."

"You got five detentions for that? There has to be rules against that!" Ron nearly threw the toast again, but Hermione grabbed his wrist and lowered his hand.

"Well, Ron, there aren't rules against that, teachers can do whatever --"

Ron ripped his hand back and took a bite out of the toast. "Who asked you?"

Hermione shook her head and waved her hand at Ron. "I give up."

There they go again, Harry thought to himself as he watched Ron and Hermione ignore him and fight. He went back to poking his food (which was beyond repair right now). Five detentions, he thought, five detentions with Malfoy.

At the thought of his name, Harry found his eyes glancing over to the Slytherin table, where Draco was no where to be found. He wondered where he could be, Draco couldn't be sick; he looked fine the night before, when he was dismissed from detention early.

"We should go to Potions now, or we'll be late."

It took Harry a second to realise Hermione was talking to him. "Oh, yeah, we have Potions." Harry responded, making a face.

The three got up and exited the Great Hall.

When they arrived to Potions, the class was empty. "Funny," Ron said, "usually Malfoy is here already. Where do you reckon that little slime ball is?"

Harry shrugged, and replied absent-mindedly. "Don't know; he wasn't at breakfast."

This had received a raised eyebrow from Hermione, but Ron seemed to think nothing of it. "You'd think he'd want to be here early, just to rub the detention in your face." He looked around the classroom. "I don't trust him."

"I'll admit, it is a little strange that he isn't here at his usual time," Hermione said, not taking her eye off Harry, "But whether or not he's late, it's none of your business, Ron." She took a seat.

Ron took a seat next to her, and Harry next to Ron. "Don't defend him," he said.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "I'm not defending him, Ron. I was just saying --"

"Are you guys always like this?" Harry had to ask.

Ron scrunched up his nose. "Like what?"

"Fighting like... a married couple or something."

Hermione blushed, but Ron scrunched up his nose even more. "We don't fight like a married couple."

Harry shook his head, "Whatever you say, Ron."

By now, a whole group of students had walked in, none of them being Draco. Harry didn't know why he had cared so much. As a matter of fact, he didn't care at all. It was, after all, Draco's fault that Harry had to spent another five days in detention.

"Say," Ron said, "the other day, where did you go after dinner?"

Harry knew what Ron was talking about; he was talking about the night Harry went to meet Draco. Harry wasn't sure of how he was going to respond.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. Without warning, Professor Snape walked in. Immediately any talking or whispering that was going on, ceased and all attention was on Snape. Snape had a control over his students that Harry didn't see the day before.

Snape walked to his desk. "Before we may begin," he started, "I will like to go over a few simple, but necessary rules for when working with Potions." By now, he was looking straight at Harry. Harry didn't have such a great feeling about this.

"A few of you may or may not know this" -- he gave Harry a pointed look -- "but safety in the Potions Lab is extraordinarily important...." It was just then that it seemed Snape realised Draco being missing. His eyes were scanning the room as if he expected Draco to just pop up somewhere.

He stood up. "Does anyone know where Mr. Malfoy is?" The question was obviously aimed at the Slytherins, but a few of the Gryffindors took the liberty of shaking their heads. "Strange," Snape said out loud to himself, "I just saw him last night." His gaze was now fixed on Harry, silently accusing him.

He put Harry on the spot. "You -- Mr. Potter, did you speak to Mr. Malfoy since last night?"

You let me out nearly three hours after he left, how would that be possible? Harry thought bitterly to himself. He solemnly shook his head.

Snape arched an eyebrow and cocked his head a bit, looking as if he did not believe Harry. "So," he said as he turned to the rest of the class, "nobody here knows where Draco Malfoy is?" Before he even got a response he went on, "Very well. As I was saying...."

"You would think," Ron whispered to Harry, "that Snape would seem to care just a little bit more." He paused, reconsidering the thought. "Never mind. He's a Slytherin. They only care about themselves."

Harry started to zone out and ignore the lecture Snape was giving about Safety in Potions (which was obviously inspired by last night) and the occasional rude comments that Ron made. Reluctantly, he was thinking about Draco and where he could possibly be.

He couldn't have been sick, Harry just saw him the night before. Really, Harry shouldn't be wondering where Draco was. He shouldn't care. He wouldn't have more detention if it wasn't for Draco, and he might even know who he was if it wasn't for Draco.

The door to the room opened.

Harry turned his head in that direction faster than he would ever like to admit.

***

He did not clearly remember how it happened.

But he did remember waking up in an empty dorm room. His head was pounding and he could barely see straight. It took him a few moments to gain enough balance to be able to stand.

He had to put out his hands for balance. He nearly accidentally stepped on shards of glass that must have been the vial the potion was stored in. He glanced at the clock....

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. He fixed himself up quickly, grabbed his bag and rushed off to Potions. The hallway was empty; he was at least twenty minutes late. He wondered how long it would have taken for the potion to work.

He reached the Potions classroom and walked inside.

***

"How wonderful of you to join us, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Snape said when Draco walked into the classroom. "I suppose you have a valid reason for walking in so late?"

As Draco took a seat, he shook his head. "No, Sir."

Snape cocked a brow. "Very well. That will be five points from Slytherin. Be thankful it isn't more."

"Did you see that?" Ron whispered to Harry, "I know that if it was you or me, he would have taken at least ten -- fifteen, even!"

Harry shrugged it off and Snape continued with his lesson as if nothing ever happened. "As I was saying," he said, "some of you fail to notice that is extremely important to practise great care while working with potions...." Snape went on for nearly the rest of the period, glaring at Harry ever so often. Harry stopped paying attention as Snape lectured the class.

He had other things to think about.

***

Draco left the room as soon as Snape dismissed the class.

He couldn't remember much from last night; he must have been knocked out all that time. Draco parted his way through a crowd of students, turned right and started to walk up a staircase.

Did I do something wrong? he wondered. The page said nothing about blacking out for nine hours. The book did say "Be careful what you wish for." But, Draco certainly didn't wish to black out.

He had wished for something else.

***

"Are you going to eat that?" Ron gestured to the food on Harry's plate.

Harry shook his head. "Help yourself."

"Thanks," Ron said, as he grabbed the hamburger off of Harry's plate.

"Really," Hermione said in an annoyed tone, "there are plates and plates of food in front of you, and you choose to eat Harry's food!."

"I don't mind, Hermione."

"See? He doesn't mind. Now leave me alone about it." Ron took a bite. "So, anyway, Harry," he said with his mouth full, "remember anything yet?"

Harry gave a half-shrug. "No."

"Ron, leave him alone about that!" Hermione pointed her fork at him. "Harry'll remember everything eventually, I'm sure."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Now, may we please drop the subject?" (Ron did not respond.) "Thank you."

The trio spent another five minutes in silence, before they noticed a snowy owl flying in with a note attached. Ron was sceptical as the bird Harry recognized as his own, flew over. "There's no mail at night..." he said.

Harry took the letter from the owls foot, nodded, and the owl flew off.

"Well, what does it say?" Ron asked, before Harry even got a chance to unfold the note. Hermione rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed, but she said nothing. Harry unfolded the note, and read it, with Ron trying to read over his shoulder. "Well...?"

"Nothing," Harry said, "it says nothing. I just..." Harry stood up. "I got to go. See you in the common room?" Before they could answer, Harry was out of sight.

While in the hallway, walking to the Gryffindor common room, Harry looked at the note again.

Seven PM, Quidditch Pitch

-I think you know who

Harry knew who it was from. Why would he want to see Harry? In the Quidditch Pitch... again. No, Harry wasn't going to go; he had no reason to.

So it was as simple as that, right? Harry wasn't going to go because there was no reason to. Draco certainly didn't explain himself in the note, so Harry wasn't going to go.

Was he?

***

Draco watched Harry receive his note and walk out of the Great Hall.

Now all he had to do was wait. He was pretty certain Harry would meet him where he asked. Waiting was the only thing he had left to do.

He scanned the Hall for first years or Hufflepuffs to annoy, after finding no one he felt was worth his time or energy, he set his roll down on the table, and headed for his common room.

"Where you going?" Goyle asked.

Draco gave Goyle a brief, blank, stare and then proceeded to walk out of the Great Hall.

He took his time walking to his common room, which wasn't so far away from the Great Hall. The longer it took getting there, the less amount of time he would have to spend in the common room waiting, and the better things were.

He spoke the password, and walked into the Slytherin common room. It was empty, as usual. All the other Slytherins were still at dinner, and they would likely be there for a long time. He made his way for his dorm.

His room was exactly the way he left it, the glass on the floor, the stopper not so far from the glass, the book was...

Missing.

"What the...?"

"Wishes Wants and Worries, eh, Draco?" came a female voice from behind him.

He spun around to face her. "What are you doing looking through my things?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I'm not 'looking through your things,' the book was just lying there. You're so careless."

"What were you doing in my dorm, Pansy?"

"Well," she stalled, "you've just been acting so weird lately, I figured I might see if there were any explanations." She held up the book daintily. "This, would be a very good explanation, I think. So..." She smirked. "What did you wish for?"

"I didn't wish for anything."

"Fine, Draco, don't tell me the truth. I'm sure I could just take this up to my dorm and you'll never see it again..." She looked inside of the book cover. "Didn't you get this from the Restricted Section? Who gave you the permission?"

"Just give me the book, and leave." Draco was gradually losing patience.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what you wished for."

"I didn't wish for anything."

She gestured to the broken glass and stopper on the floor. "Like hell you didn't."

"Just give me the book."

"You know what? Fine." She handed out the book. Draco arched his eyebrow, and took the book.

Before leaving, she gave a half-laugh and shook her head, grinning. "You're blind, you know that." She turned and walked away.

"Blind?" Draco repeated.

"Yes," she said, turning around, "it's either that or you're just really stupid. But, I would rather be blind than stupid, wouldn't you?"

Draco didn't know what she meant by that, but he didn't have a chance to ask her. Pansy Parkinson was already out of sight.

***

Harry had learned his lesson. He knew better than to trust Draco Malfoy.

Or so he thought.

He was on his way, walking to the Quidditch Pitch, which clearly meant that he had not learned his lesson. Why am I doing this? he thought to himself.

Harry walked on through the grass outside, making his way to the field. He saw Draco in the distance. It's still not too late, you know. He doesn't see you. He walked on.

Ever since he got the letter, Harry was debating on whether or not he should go. He chose to go. Now, here he was, walking out to the Quidditch Pitch to meet Draco.

He was almost there, when Draco turned around. Draco's face seemed expressionless, and as always, hard to interpret. He was holding something under his arm, a book, maybe.

Harry caught up with Draco. The two boys just looked at each other, until Draco said finally, "You're late." Harry didn't respond. "You're book." Draco held out the green and gold book Harry only gave him the other day.

Harry furrowed his brow. "My book?"

"Yeah, well, it's the schools book. I don't need it."

"You told me this was your book."

"I lied."

Harry wasn't all that surprised. "You lied?"

"Well... yeah." Draco shrugged.

"That's all?" Draco nodded. Harry turned his back.

"Actually...."

Harry spun back around. "What?" he snapped.

"Remember anything yet?" Draco questioned softly.

"I can't see why you would care." Harry glared.

Draco stuffed one of his hands into his pocket. "I could." He shrugged, looking down at the floor. Harry didn't say anything, he didn't know what there was to say. "I could care." Draco looked up at Harry.

Harry's expression didn't change. "From everything you've shown me these past few days, I don't believe you."

Draco looked confused, it was almost as if he didn't understand. "Maybe I have a different way of showing things."

Harry scoffed. "Some way."

"I could." Draco gave Harry one last hard look before he started to walk away.

Harry hardly knew what he meant by that. And he was, yet again, left standing alone, not knowing what to say.