Ten Days

Ten Days

Chapter Ten: Revelation

I must be cruel only to be kind;

Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.

Well, that was stupid, Draco thought to himself as he walked back to the castle, his back turned to Harry. What was he doing asking Harry if he had gotten his memory back? He wasn't supposed to care -- nor was he supposed to say that he actually might care.

He peeked over his shoulder to see what Harry was doing, whether or not he was following or watching him. He wasn't. His back was turned to Draco. Stupid.

Draco entered the school, staring at the floor. Why didn't the Wish Potion take effect yet? Did he do something wrong? Was it normal for him to black out? What about the temperature thing? Was that supposed to happen? Draco didn't know.

It was stupid of him to take the potion without really looking into it. It was stupid of him to leave everything out for people like Pansy to find out. Pansy.

He wondered how much she knew. Not much, he hoped. He knew Pansy, and sometimes she knew less than what she let on. He hoped this was one of those times.

Asking him if he got his memory back. Draco couldn't get over it. You might care. The more Draco thought about it, the more ridiculous it became. He told Harry that he might care. I don't care.

Draco shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. You, Draco Malfoy, he told himself, you are a terrible liar.

***

Harry looked down and stared at the green book in his hand. Draco Malfoy seemed to have a knack with screwing with peoples emotions. Harry ran his free hand through his hair and pulled at it slightly.

As time went on, this made less and less sense for him. He had no clue who he was, where he was exactly, what he was doing there, or even how this all happened. Draco wasn't helping at all.

Harry turned around to see Draco walking away, not turning back. "I could care." Draco's voice rang through Harry's head. "Maybe I have a different way of showing things." What did he mean by all of that?

He caught himself staring at Draco's back, so he turned away. He looked back once or twice more, and considered calling after Draco, and asking him what exactly he might have meant by that, but, for some reason, he did not.

He waited until Draco was inside for a few moments before he made his own way into the castle.

***

Draco watched a blur of gold zip around his room. Usually, regardless of his Slytherin-Prince status, he would have been yelled at by fellow a Slytherin to put it away. But it was late; all the other Slytherins were asleep now.

He was playing with a Golden Snitch his father had bought him when he became Seeker of the Slytherin team. He used to play with it nearly every day. He felt it was a way to practise, without going off to the Quidditch Pitch.

Nowadays, it was something he enjoyed just simply watching on occasion; it relaxed him. What, exactly, was so relaxing about a buzzing gold ball flying around his room? Draco wasn't sure. But it worked.

Tonight, things were different. Not much different, but different. It was still comforting, but it certainly was not relaxing.

It made him think of -- whether or not he'd like to admit it -- Harry. It would always frustrate him to think about Harry and how he'd always beat him in Quidditch -- save for that one time last week, in the game which he felt he truly didn't win. Now it was a different feeling. A feeling that confused Draco. It was one that he didn't understand. A feeling that he thought maybe shouldn't even be there. A feeling that Draco loved and hated all at once.

Swiftly, Draco grabbed the Snitch out of the air, put it into it's felt pouch and back into his drawer. He turned off the light and went to bed.

***

"Harry, c'mon, wake up, mate. It's almost time for breakfast."

"I am up," Harry mumbled into his pillow. He clearly wasn't up, and he didn't want to get up. He was just having the most marvellous dream. And he did not want to get up.

"No, you're not. Get up."

Harry muttered something inaudible and pulled the covers over his head. He couldn't remember exactly what the dream was about, but he knew he enjoyed it very much.

"Harry," said Ron, "I'm not asking you after this. Get up."

Harry pushed the blankets back down, and forced himself to sit up. Now that he thought of it, he couldn't remember last night's dream at all. He leaned over, and reached for his classes trying to remember what made him like last night's dream so great.

Ron stood at the doorway. "Well, now that I know you're up, I'll wait for you in the common room." Harry nodded, and Ron left.

Looking around the dorm room, he discovered that he was the last one to wake up. Harry shrugged, and then threw his feet over the bed. Suddenly, the dream came back to him.

Draco was in it. Draco and a bathroom. What's so great about that? Harry thought to himself. He rested one elbow on his knee, as he pondered the thought.

"I could care," Draco's voice echoed in his head.

Then it clicked. Then things started to make some sort of sense.

***

"Harry, Malfoy," Professor Lupin announced, before class began, " I need to speak with you both after class."

"Yes, sir," the two boys said in a near-unison.

"Good. Now..." he said, standing up from his desk and looking around, "now who can tell me how we can block spells that are aimed to harm us?" After a few stares from students who looked at him like he asked the dumbest question in the wizarding world, he explained himself: "What I mean is, what if someone has cast a spell, not directly in front of your face, but something that would take a few days, or weeks, or so to take effect, what would you do?"

Quite predictably, Hermione's hand was the only hand to shoot up straight away. "Yes, Hermione?"

"A blocking charm," she replied smartly.

"No, not exactly, Hermione, nice try. Is there anyone else who can tell me?" The class exchanged confused looks. "No? Well..." He walked over to his desk, pulling out a small bottle with an opaque, orange liquid in it. "This, is what we can take to avoid negative potions, and long-term spells that have been cast on us."

Harry played with his quill absent-mindedly, while he was listening to Professor Lupin. The past few days seemed to be too much for him. There was so much to learn about; so much he had missed. Harry wondered if he would ever get his memory back. And he wondered if he would ever find out how he had lost his memory in the first place. Why he didn't know who he was, or where he was, or who everybody else was.

"Now," Lupin continued, "I realize that this isn't Potions, but taking this Potion might defend yourself against any illegal love potion, any curse, or any negative spell at all in the future. One sip of this almost guarantees your safety. You can find this potion almost anywhere, and it's called the Acutus Potion.

"You will be able to find it from places like Diagon Alley, to even Knockturn Alley. No wizard wants to be caught off guard by some love potion or otherwise..."

As Lupin went on, Harry lost interest. He started to think about Draco. He knew he thought that things were starting to make sense last night, but now that didn't make sense. He didn't have feelings for someone like Draco.

As much as Harry wasn't listening to professor, Lupin was starting to make more sense than Draco ever could. What if Draco put a spell on Harry? What if he made him lose his memory? And what if Draco was responsible for Harry thinking about him all the time. After all, in this world, anything was possible.

Harry decided he would take the Acutus Potion.

***

The class emptied out, and Draco Malfoy gathered up his things. Not fast enough, as Lupin felt the need to remind him about their meeting. "Harry, Malfoy, I'd like a word with you two."

Shoving the last book into his bag, making it fit, Draco walked over to the desk; Harry joined moments after. "Boys, as you two and I know, Professor Snape has given Harry five days detention, and that you must serve the days together. And as much as I disapprove of this punishment, there is nothing I can do about it, but have you serve your detention with me."

He took a breath and stood up. "Which is exactly what you two will be doing tonight. I expect to see you both at this classroom at eight p.m. sharp."

"Yes sir," said the boys.

"You're excused, Malfoy." Draco, turned and walked out. As soon as he left, Harry wondered if it was his turn to go. But clearly, Lupin had something else to say to Harry. He gave Harry a concerned look before speaking, "Have you remembered anything at all, Harry?" Harry shook his head. "If you remember anything -- anything at all, I'd like you to tell me, ok?"

"Yes, Professor."

"That's all. You're almost late for class."

Harry nodded. "Good day, sir."

***

Draco didn't feel too hungry.

He had far too much on his mind to be bothered with food. He had yet another detention with the golden boy that evening, where he would likely find himself scraping gum off the bottom of the desks and chairs as Harry watches and Lupin will call it detention.

So he spent the period poking at prodding at his turkey and cheese sandwich, as Crabbe and Goyle sat next to him, and had a contest about who could eat their food faster. On the other side of Draco, sat Pansy Parkinson, who was currently gawking at him.

Irritated, Draco turned to her, and said, "What?"

She just grinned and shook her head. "Still haven't figured it out yet?"

"Figured what out?"

"Supposed not."

Draco rolled his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Forget it," Pansy replied in the perky tone that always seemed to get on Draco's nerve. He got up and left the Great Hall.

***

Absent-mindedly not listening to what Hermione had to say, and watching Draco walk out of the room, Harry picked at the chips on his plate.

The Acutus Potion sounded interesting to him. He wondered if the Professor meant that it could truly be found anywhere, and if anywhere was Snape's office. "Hermione," Harry said, interrupting whatever Hermione was talking to Ron about, "what do you know about the Acutus Potion?"

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Harry, we just had an entire lesson on it."

"Well, I know, I just thought you might know how to make it or something." He moved around in his seat slightly.

Hermione leaned in, concerned, speaking in a whisper. "Harry, who do you think is going to put a spell on you?"

"That doesn't mat --"

"I bet you anything he suspects Malfoy has been causing his memory loss all along," Ron cut in.

"Ron, he never said that," Hermione snapped, turning back to Harry, "You can trust me, Harry."

"Can't you just tell me where to get it?"

Hermione sighed, obviously knowing Harry wouldn't tell, "Professor Snape should have some. If not, it's obvious Lupin has some -- and it's a common potion and a useful one; I'm sure you can find the recipe in the library."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, going back to his food, "that's all I needed to know."

***

At ten-to-eight, Harry left the Gryffindor common room. He didn't bother thinking about the Acutus Potion for the entire day, it was the first thing he was looking into tomorrow. Right now, he was concerned with detention.

He arrived at the classroom a few minutes before eight. Draco was no where in sight, and the door was locked. Harry leaned against the wall on the side of the door.

He had no idea what kind of labour was in store for him that night, as he didn't really know much about Professor Lupin. Except for the fact that he seemed to care for Harry.

Echoing footsteps nearby told Harry that Draco was approaching. He wasn't sure how he knew it was Draco, but he did somehow. Just another reason to take the Acutus Potion.

Sure enough, Draco arrived seconds later, and attempted at opening the door. After glaring at Harry as if he had to do something with the door not opening, he leaned against the wall on other side of the door.

The two sat in silence until it was broken by Lupin opening the door and leaning out. "It's eight o'clock," he said, "you two may come in now." Harry entered, followed by Draco. "And before we begin, I'd like to do something."

Harry wondered what this meant. What did Lupin want from them?

"Harry, you sit down right there." Lupin pointed to the seat to the right of him. "That desk is for you, Malfoy. The one next to my desk."

And on the desk positioned next to Lupin's, sat a piece of parchment and a black quill.

***

Draco didn't move. He knew what that quill meant; he was about to write lines, and it was going to hurt. Harry looked curiously at the quill, and then back at Draco, who clearly did not want to sit down.

"Sit down, Malfoy," Lupin said carefully.

Eyeing the quill, Draco took a seat.

"Now, I want you to take that quill up, and write 'I am responsible for Harry Potter's memory loss.'" Draco looked up at Lupin, not moving a muscle. "Do it."

Draco sighed, and took up the quill. He knew what was to happen next: he would write it, and it would cut into his hand. And it would hurt. Draco was not a fan of pain.

Draco shut his eyes, and in what seemed like seconds, he scribbled 'I am responsible for Harry Potter's memory loss.' But, instead of feeling the ice cold quill cut into the back of his hand, he felt nothing at all. He opened his eyes, and saw that 'I am responsible for Harry Potter's memory loss' was written in black ink on the parchment.

Lupin furrowed his brow and didn't speak for a few moments. Now Draco and Harry both had looks of confusion painted across their faces. "Let me see your hand," he said. Draco obeyed, and held out his hand. Lupin looked at the back of Draco's hand, brushing his own hand across the back. "That's interesting." He paused. "It didn't harm you."

After taking another pause, Lupin let go of Draco's hand and put out his own palm. "Let me see that," he said. Draco placed the quill in his hand, and watched as Lupin wrote 'I am a teacher' in small lettering on the parchment, in his own blood.

Lupin then placed the quill down, and looked at the back of his own hand, as small drops of crimson blood trickled down his wrist. "So you aren't responsible, then?"

"What made you change your mind, Professor?" Draco asked, not having an idea of what was going on.

Looking as if he regretted being less-than-mean towards a Slytherin, Lupin began to explain. "You might know what this can do, but you probably don't know what it is. It's a lie detector. If you're telling the truth, it'll cut into your skin. And if you're not, it won't. According to this, you didn't have anything to do with Harry's memory loss."

"I could have told you that."

Lupin shook his head, and refrained from giving Draco a lecture, instead, he turned to walk out of the room. "Follow me, gentlemen."

Harry stood up, and followed. Draco gave the parchment and quill one last look before getting up.

***

The incident with the quill gave Harry something new to think about. Draco wasn't responsible for his memory loss. And things just seemed to be getting more and more complicated by the second.

He glanced at the blond who was walking next to him. The blond who wasn't so much as even giving Harry just a small glance. Harry still didn't think that he trusted Draco And he didn't think Lupin trusted Draco either.

They reached their destination, and Lupin opened the door. The room was entirely empty. Harry obviously didn't recognize the place at all. "Yet again," Lupin said, "as Harry probably won't remember, I'd like you two to paint this place."

This struck Harry as weird, but he didn't say anything, just listened to see if Lupin had anything more to say. "I figured this might jog your memory, Harry."

Harry took this chance to speak. "I hope so, sir."

"Well, I'll be back soon; I've got a few papers to mark," Lupin said, as he left the two alone.

***

Harry painted fairly well for someone who couldn't remember a thing about himself. But only after about fifteen minutes, he hand was beginning to bother him. And the silence between him and Draco was starting to bother him as well. The silence was so awkward.

Draco was painting right next to him, within two feet of him, and they weren't say a word. It made Harry feel uncomfortable. He wondered why he cared.

He decided to do something about it. "What did you mean before?" he asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Draco wasn't about to easily sidetracked from what he was doing.

"You asked me if I remembered anything."

"So?"

This wasn't going anywhere. "You said that you might care."

"What is your point, Potter?"

Harry swung around suddenly, with a brush full of paint in his hand. "Look, Draco--"

His sentence was interrupted by the realization that he had splattered white paint across Draco's silk green pajamas. Draco slowly looked down and saw what Harry was gaping at.

"I'm... oops," was all Harry managed to say before Draco splattered a fair share of paint across Harry's shirt. "Hey!" Harry dipped his brush into the paint, and flicked it at Draco, getting more paint on the blond.

"I was just settling the score." Draco took more paint on the brush, and brushed it across Harry's chest, smirking.

This went on until there was paint everywhere but on the walls, and one can full of paint. Harry pinned Draco down next to the can, and once there was no chance of Draco escaping, Harry took the can and held it over Draco head.

Draco, nearly out of breath from their childish fight, cocked a brow. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

Taking Harry by surprise, Draco knocked the can clear out of his hand. The paint splattered on the both of them. Other than that, Draco didn't move.

"What'd you do that for?"

"So I can do this." Draco moved quick. He snaked on hand behind Harry's neck, and pull him in, as the other hand pushed Harry's shoulder, flipping over, so Draco was on top of him. Their lips met, and Harry didn't object.

Instead, he kissed Draco. Hungrily, he kissed him, and the world seemed to melt away. The world seemed right again. Even if Harry didn't remember anything, it didn't seem important now. He pulled Draco close to him, and left his arms around the other boy.

It all happened too fast; the moment of perfection was interrupted by a third party entering the room, and clearing his throat. They were caught.

And they had a lot of explaining to do.