Little Pink Pills

Him Again

The first day of school arrived and Harry was now sitting aboard the Hogwarts Express in a locked compartment with Nymphadora Tonks and Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. They were his Special Guards for today and would not leave his side until they saw him pass safely through the big oak front doors of Hogwarts. Harry was actually thankful for the escort. He was not in the mood for enquiries about Voldemort, or for annoying first-years who did not know how rude it was to gape at other people's foreheads. The other benefit was that for the first time since his first ride on this train five years ago, Malfoy did not show up in his compartment. And he was definitely not looking forward to see him again.

But, as always, his luck ended far too soon. Harry did not notice Malfoy approaching him as he entered the Great Hall for the start of year feast. He was too busy doing the same thing he spent the entire summer doing - replaying last year's events in his head and feeling sorry for himself. It was only when he heard Ron's angry shout of "Sod off, Malfoy!" that he raised his eyes to see the pale pointy face sneering at him.

"Why so sad, Potter?" Malfoy asked in a mock caring voice. "You look like your dog died."

That was all it took for Harry to snap. Blood was pounding in his ears and his insides were boiling with rage. How dare Malfoy mention Sirius?

In a Seeker's speed Harry drew out his wand, pointed it at Malfoy and shouted the incantation for the Bat-Bogey Hex, but Malfoy was ready for him with his own wand at hand and shouted his own curse at Harry at the same time. Just as happened two years before, their curses met in the middle with a loud bang and ricocheted sideways over the Great Hall like the special Weasley Twins' fireworks. There were sounds of shattering glass as the curses hit and smashed the big mosaic windows, littering the stone floor with sparkling shards and filling the room with the screams of terrified children who were trying to find cover behind benches and under tables. It took a few long seconds before Dumbledore's 'Finite Incantatum!' was heard over the uproar and a few more confusing seconds for everything to calm down again.

Harry looked around and was stunned to see how much damage they had done.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry and Malfoy's wands flew out of their reach and into McGonagall's waiting hand. She looked angrier than ever, her lips pursed so thin it appeared she had no mouth at all, and pure fury was blazing behind her square glasses. "You two, my office, now," she said in a voice too quiet for Harry's liking and walked out of the Great Hall with Malfoy on her trail.

Harry stared after them and gulped. He could not believe this was happening. He only arrived at Hogwarts less than half an hour ago and was already in serious trouble.

All because of Malfoy.

Again.

He glanced at Ron and Hermione who mouthed "Good luck" at him, squared his shoulders, and strode out of the hall and up the marble staircase to McGonagall's office.

"Sit!" McGonagall ordered when they arrived. She sat behind her table and raised her wand to spell the door shut.

Harry grimaced at the sharp sound. He had never seen McGonagall that riled before. A tiny voice in the back of his head wondered if the prophecy and his awaiting destiny could save him from expulsion.

"I am deeply disappointed," said McGonagall. "You," she looked pointedly at Malfoy who cowered in his chair, "a Hogwarts Prefect! And you," she turned her narrowed eyes at Harry, "haven't you had enough of fighting? I hoped that after last year you would be more careful. You could have hurt someone!"

Harry could hear the "Again" that was meant to be at the end of her sentence. He lowered his eyes, trying to shield himself from the accusation in her voice, and refusing to allow Malfoy to see the pain in them. His throat was tightening and he wanted to be alone, the guilt was still too heavy for him to deal with. He knew what happened last year was his fault; he did not need her to remind him.

Just as Harry thought things could not get any worse, the door creaked open and Professor Snape came in. In an instant Malfoy's posture changed completely as he straightened and looked up hopefully at his Head of House. He was always Snape's favourite student and, unlike Harry, was never punished by him.

Snape stood near McGonagall's chair and surveyed them with his black eyes. "I believe this requires a severe punishment," he said in his usual cold voice. "Endangering students, delaying the Sorting Ceremony, and not to mention nearly destroying three ancient mosaic windows. I suggest Potter will be banned from the Quidditch team." He turned to face McGonagall who nodded sadly in agreement. He turned back to Harry, an ugly contempt smile twisting his lips, but Harry did not care. He did not care much about anything these days.

Snape came to stand next to Malfoy and extended his hand. In a horrible venomous voice Harry was, until now, sure was reserved only for him, he continued, "And you, Draco, are no longer a Slytherin Prefect. Give me your badge."

Malfoy's eyes widened in horror and disbelief. "NO! You can't do this to me! I am Draco Malfoy, the son of..."

"Silence!" Snape cut him off. "You are the son of a convicted Death Eater. Your relation to Lucius can only hurt you now, and I advise you not to be foolish and, keep mentioning it." Malfoy's jaw snapped shut, and Snape went on. "Now, you will do as you are told, and hand over your Prefect badge."

Malfoy turned his best Puppy-Eyes-Look to McGonagall in a silent pleading, but to no avail.

"After everything you promised us, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall shook her head disapprovingly, "you go and duel with none other than Harry Potter. How is that going to convince the Ministry you chose our side and are not following your father?"

Harry stared at Malfoy as he slowly detached the green and silver badge from his black school robes. Can that be true? The little evil Death-Eater-To-Be is on the good side? Could he have been wrong about Malfoy all this time?

However, his hatred for Malfoy returned full force as Malfoy answered. "It had nothing to do with him being Harry Potter! It's because he is an irritating, condescending, righteous git! And he attacked me first." Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest and raised his pointy nose.

"I did not!" Harry was getting angry again. "YOU started it!" he shouted.

In an innocent voice Malfoy said, "I was only asking why you looked sad. I was worried about you."

"No, you weren't," Harry began to lose his tamper, "you were laughing at Sirius, you little..." he jumped out of his chair and made a furious move towards Malfoy.

"Sit down!" McGonagall gripped his shoulder and pushed him down back to his chair with way too much strength for a woman her age.

Malfoy did not drop his act. "See? He's trying to attack me again," he whined.

"This is enough, Draco." Apparently, Snape was not moved by his student's performance. "There will be no more fights, arguments, bickering or duels between the two of you." His voice dropped even lower and colder. "And if you will choose to continue this idiotic childish behaviour, you will be expelled. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," they both squeaked at unison.

The two professors conversed in whispers amongst themselves for a while before Snape gave their final verdict. "Your detention will be served at the first Saturday of October."

"But that's Hogsmeade weekend!" Malfoy protested, but shut up when he saw the warning look on the professors' eyes.

"And," Snape ignored him and continued, "There will be one hundred and fifty points taken from Gryffindor," he sighed glumly, "...and from Slytherin."

McGonagall gave both boys their wands back and pointed her own at the table where a plate with two big sandwiches appeared. "Take these and go straight to your common rooms," she said.

They did not need to be told twice. Each grabbed a sandwich and after one last nasty glare at the other, ran away as fast as they could.

xxx

After a long awful month, in which Harry discovered that being The-Boy-Who-Lived was not a good enough excuse for his Housemates who would still be angry over the small matter of losing one hundred and fifty House points, the day of his detention arrived.

Harry was eating breakfast with his friends when McGonagall approached the Gryffindor table and asked him to follow her.

Ron and Hermione gave him their best sympathetic looks and promised to bring him back some Butterbeer from Hogsmeade. From across the Great Hall he could see Malfoy walking with Snape, so he muttered a thank you to his friends and followed his Head of House.

The four of them walked in silence to the West Tower and Harry assumed they were going to scrub the Owlery, which was not so bad - at least he would have Hedwig's company and will not be alone with Malfoy.

But, as always, luck was lacking and the professors led them through a door Harry had never noticed before to a small, dusty, abandoned classroom that was located in the southeast side of the tower.

"Get in," Snape ordered and they obeyed.

There were a few tables scattered in the middle of the room and one in the right corner near the door. On the wall in front of them was a big window with a cushioned window seat, the left wall was nearly entirely covered with a blackboard, and on the right wall was another door. McGonagall opened that door, pointed her wand inside, and after a few twists and flicks turned back to the boys. "In there is your toilet," she said.

Next, she waved her wand at the table near the door and, just like in the Great Hall; it filled with food and drinks.

She then aimed it at the window and the upper part of the glass opened, letting fresh air in, but still being safe enough for the boys to sit near without falling down ...Or push each other out.

"Er," Harry began, "so... are we supposed to clean this room?" He asked hopefully, not truly believing it would be that easy.

"If you wish to," answered McGonagall. "However, the main purpose of today is to give you two a last chance to prove to us you can get along without fighting. We will come back for you at five in the afternoon, before tea."

"But that's eight hours from now!" Malfoy protested, but was ignored.

Snape stepped forward. "And there will be no magic. Accio wands!" Their wands flew to his outstretched hand and he smiled maliciously, his black eyes glinting. "Good day."

The professors left and locked the door, leaving two very disgruntled boys behind.

Malfoy scowled. "Look what you've done, Potter! I was supposed to be on my way to a fun day at Hogsmeade, and instead I'm stuck here. With you," he pronounced the last word with great loathing.

Harry tried very hard rein in his temper. He did not want to set off another brawl, but he was not going to let Malfoy drop all the blame on him. "It's your fault too, Malfoy. And believe me - I'm not too happy being stuck with you," he matched Malfoy's tone equally, "either."

Malfoy opened his mouth as if to answer, but closed it back again. It was clear Harry was physically stronger and starting a fight with him without a wand was not wise. So he sat on one of the tables, crossed his legs with insufferable elegant grace, and just glared at Harry's head, apparently trying to drill holes through his skull using eyes alone.

Time, as always when you want it to speed up, slowed down to an almost halt, and Harry wondered how he is going to survive this. Standing there with Malfoy's piercing gaze on him made him feel very self-conscious. He shifted his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably and pretended to read the half-erased words from the cobwebs-covered blackboard on the wall. He tried desperately to remember what he usually did with his hands, because right now, they felt like two unnecessary lumps dangling from his sides and everything he tried to do with them felt exaggerated and unnatural. Especially with those annoying eyes still fixed upon him.

Finally he gave up, turned his back to Malfoy, and went for the food table. He was not hungry, even tough he did not get to eat much at breakfast, but at least it gave him something to occupy his hands with.

There was a jug of pumpkin juice and another with water, a pot of steaming tea, a big bowl with fruits, some round pie, two hot fresh scones, and a plate with four appetising jam pastries covered with icing sugar. Harry reached for those first. He ate two and was about to take a bite out of the third when it was snatched forcefully out of his hand.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter? You already ate yours, those two are MINE!" Malfoy yelled.

Harry shrugged. "I don't see your name on it," he said.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. He held the pastry and with the tip of his finger carved "DM" on the icing sugar. He put it back down on the plate and turned back to Harry. "Can you see it now?" he asked and raised his finger to his mouth to suck off the sugar.

Harry's eyes could not help but follow.

Malfoy noticed.

He pulled the finger out of his mouth with a popping sound. "Oh, sorry, would you like to do it for me?" he asked innocently, holding his finger up in front of Harry's face.

Harry felt the heat rise to his cheeks, only from anger of course, and pushed the offensive finger away. "Like I would touch anything that's been anywhere near your filthy mouth, Malfoy!" he said hastily and a little too breathlessly.

Malfoy tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" He took the two scones from the table, held them close together, and moved his tongue between them in one swift movement, affectively wetting them both.

Harry's eyes widened. "What the hell are you doing? I was going to eat that!"

"Nobody's stopping you, Potter."

"But... it has your spit all over it now."

"So?" Malfoy took a bite out of the scone in his right hand. "Mmm... tastes perfectly fine in my opinion."

Harry had an idea. "So you wouldn't mind if I do this?" He took the pie and started lapping his tongue all over its top.

Malfoy's jaw dropped. Apparently, he did not expect this. Not from the saint Harry Potter. But it did not take long for him to return to his senses and fight back. He picked up every piece of food he could lay his hands on and that Harry had not yet reached, and licked it.

Harry felt ridiculous. He knew he was being childish, but this was Draco Malfoy he was dealing with - the most immature person he knew. Thinking he must fight fire with fire, he resumed his role in the bizarre Saliva War.

In a matter of seconds, all that was left on the table still untouched was one red apple. Both sets of eyes locked on the target and they pounced.

...But Malfoy was closer and reached it first.

Harry was not going to let him win this battle, and without thinking too much he launched at the apple, now dangerously close to Malfoy's mouth, and gave it a quick lick, accidentally ending up brushing the tip of Malfoy's cold pointy nose.

Harry stumbled backward when he comprehended, albeit too late, what he had just done. He was horrified.

Malfoy gasped and dropped the apple to the floor. For a long moment, he just stared at Harry with comically wide eyes, holding his palm to his nose as if Harry had punched him there. Then he screeched, "GROSS!" and ran to the toilet to wash his face.

Harry remained standing there, cheeks burning with embarrassment, stomach flipping sickeningly, and feeling absolutely terrible. His feeling even worsened when he picked up the apple, returned it to the bowl, scanned all the food on the table, and realised he could not remember what was his and what was Malfoy's. Great, he thought sullenly to himself, the only thing I remember licking is that prat's nose. He sighed. Typical.

Malfoy came back from the toilet a few minutes later and sent his best Death-Glare at Harry.

Harry found it hard to meet his eyes. "Sorry... I... I really love apples," he tried lamely to reason his actions.

Malfoy did not answer. He sat on a table and kept glowering.

Harry sighed and sat on another table.

After what felt like hours of reciting Quidditch strategies in his head, Harry looked at the clock on the wall above the food table and sadly discovered only fifteen minutes had passed. He glanced sideways at Malfoy and saw that he too was watching the clock miserably, drumming his fingers on the table, looking just as bored.

Harry decided to play The Brave Gryffindor and start a conversation. "Er..." What could he talk about with a boy he hated for over five years that would not lead to more bickering? "So... nice weather." That must be a safe enough topic.

Malfoy looked at Harry quizzically without answering, making him feel like an idiot.

If that's my best conversation topic, Harry thought to himself, no wonder I couldn't last even one lousy date with a girl. "Sunny," he added feebly and indicated with his hand towards the big sunlit window.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and turned back to the clock.

"Are you really on our side now?" Harry blurted. He was not sure what made him ask this, the words just spilled out of his mouth. Maybe it's because it was constantly on your mind ever since McGonagall said it, he mentally mocked himself.

Malfoy only nodded his head once without taking his eyes off the clock he was watching.

Harry took the gesture as a good sign and continued. "Why?" he asked. "I thought you hated Muggles and Muggle-borns."

"I do," Malfoy answered plainly.

"So why aren't you a Death Eater like your father?"

Malfoy finally did him the favour of turning to face him. "A tattoo of a skull with a snake in its mouth is a little passé, don't you agree?" he said in his usual bored, drawling voice. "Besides, I'm way too beautiful to cover my face with an ugly white mask."

Harry could not tell if he was joking, trying to avoid the question, or was really that vain for it to be the true reason. He felt disgusted with Malfoy if it was the last option, and Malfoy was starting to get on his nerves again. "You, beautiful?" he snorted. "Says who?"

Malfoy gasped as if Harry had just slapped him and Harry was oddly content. "It's common knowledge, Potter." Malfoy swelled up his chest and held his chin high. "And if you can't see it, then those hideous spectacles of yours aren't doing their job properly."

Harry shrugged indifferently; he had already heard all the glasses-jokes possible during his childhood with Dudley, and was immune to them. Besides, he was getting to Malfoy and he liked it. "I think you're too feminine," he said. It is not that Malfoy was not good looking - if you like the blonde, aristocratic, Veela-like type - It was just that Harry was having so much fun teasing him.

"FEMININE? Me?" Malfoy bellowed, outraged. "I'm... I'm taller than you are!" He pointed out as if it were a confirmation of his manhood.

"No, you're not. It's only because, unlike you, I'm not wearing high heels," Harry laughed. Even after all this time living among wizards, he still could not get used to their ludicrous sense of fashion, and high heels were not less funny on Malfoy than they were on Dumbledore.

"At least I, unlike you, don't lick other people's noses," Malfoy declared triumphantly.

Harry felt himself blush at the reminder. He did not have any good retort for that, so he only muttered, "It was an accident" and decided it was time for him to shut up.

Silence took over once more.

Harry stared longingly out the window. It was a perfect day for a trip to Hogsmeade. How much he wanted to be with his friends, to visit Honeydukes and The Three Broomsticks. "I wish I knew how to Apparate so I could get the hell out of here," he mused out loud.

"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds," Malfoy said with a Just-How-Dumb-Are-You look.

Harry stared at him. It was like looking at a paler, blonde, slightly less masculine Hermione.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Potter? It's true. Haven't you ever read Hogwarts, a History?"

Harry could not hold it any longer and burst out laughing. "You are so Hermione!"

"Don't call me that! Shut up!" cried Malfoy in a high-pitched voice that made Harry guffaw even harder.

Malfoy got up from the table and folded his arms over his chest. "I am not girlish!" he snapped and went to sit farther from Harry on the window seat.

Eventually Harry managed to calm down and dried his tears of mirth. Malfoy was sitting engulfed in sunlight from the window behind him and it made his frame seem even smaller and more fragile than normal, his bottom lip was sticking out in a pout appearing truly affronted.

Harry almost felt guilty. He decided trying for a truce. "Listen Malfoy, we're getting too old for this. Why won't we try being civil to each other and make Snape and McGonagall happy?"

An indifferent "Whatever" and a small shrug was all the answer he received.