Little Pink Pills

The Power of Pink

The next long minutes passed in an uncomfortable silence before Malfoy finally broke it.

"I'm bored," he said in a spoiled, whiny voice and looked expectantly at Harry. "Do something interesting," he commanded.

"What d'you want me to do? Dance?"

Malfoy ignored the sarcasm. "Great idea, Potter. After seeing your performance at the Yule Ball, I just know it will be amusing," he smirked.

"Forget it; I'm not here to entertain you."

"It's not fair," said Malfoy, sounding like Dudley on a diet. "Crabbe and Goyle always do dumb stuff to entertain me."

"They don't do it for you - dumb is just the way they naturally are," Harry corrected.

Malfoy did not argue.

"You're wearing your robes," Harry stated. "Don't you have anything in your pockets? Like miniature chess or something we can pass the time with?" he asked hopefully. He himself was wearing only an old white T-shirt and his worst pair of jeans, both Dudley's hand-me-downs. He hated looking so sloppy in front of Malfoy, but he thought he was going to spend the detention on his hands and knees, cleaning and scrubbing, and dressed accordingly.

Malfoy hopped off the window seat and emptied his pockets, displaying all he had on the table near Harry. He had a handful of gold Galleons, a small finely decorated round mirror - how surprising, Harry thought cynically and tried not to laugh, a box of Chocolate Frogs, and some Dungbombs they both preferred not to play with inside this small confining room.

Harry eyed the Chocolate Frogs hungrily, but Malfoy noticed and snatched it protectively. He opened the wrapper, peeked at the Famous Wizard Card, scowled, and chucked it on the floor. Then he ate the frogs, making very disturbing throaty sounds that let Harry know precisely what he was missing and causing his mouth to water.

Harry tried to ignore it and picked up the discarded card. He gasped as he saw his own face staring back at him. He knew he was on a card, but never saw one before. It was extremely rare. Even Ron, who had a huge collection, did not have it. "Can I keep it?" he asked hopefully.

"You really are in love with yourself, aren't you?" Malfoy asked in disgust.

"No. I just never got that card," Harry answered honestly.

"Really? I always get that one," Malfoy said in a way that suggested it was all a big conspiracy against him. "Though I must admit it's perfect to practice my 'Incendo' on."

Harry brushed aside the image of himself bursting into flames. "So, can I have it?" he asked again.

"Fine," Malfoy sighed grievously. "I don't have my wand here, so I can't burn it anyway."

"Thanks." Ron is going to be so jealous.

"What about you, Potter, don't you have anything interesting in those despicable Muggle trousers of yours?"

Harry scratched the back of his neck. "Er. Something interesting in my trousers?" he repeated, mind suddenly blank. Well, blank except for the dirty images.

"I was not talking about that, Potter! Pull your scarred head out of the gutter," Malfoy chided. Then he made a show of looking up and down Harry's body and snorted. "Besides, I highly doubt what you have in there is in any way interesting," he drawled.

Harry mentally cursed his adolescent brain and took out the only two things he had in his pockets: an article about Firebolts he cut from the 'Daily Prophet' during the summer, and the pills Dudley gave him for his birthday.

He completely forgot about those.

"What's that?" Malfoy asked, extracting the pills from the cling film and into his hand.

"It's a Muggle thing. Pills. My cousin gave it to me."

Malfoy poked them suspiciously with his finger. "And what do the dim-witted Muggles do with it?"

Harry ignored the comment, wary of initiating another argument. "That's how Muggles take medications and... stuff," he did not know whether wizards have an equivalent to illegal drugs or not. "They swallow it and it works like potions do," he explained

"And then what? What does it do?" Draco asked impatiently

"Well, I never tried that kind before. They're not exactly... er... legal."

Malfoy's head snapped up - that picked his interest.

"All I know is, it's a drug that's supposed to make you very happy," Harry added.

"But there's no such potion that can make you happy," Malfoy argued pointedly.

"Then Muggles have something wizards don't," Harry shrugged. "Maybe they deserve more credit than you give them."

Malfoy looked sceptic. "So does it wear off?"

"My cousin said it only lasts for about four hours or so."

"There is a picture engraved on it. It looks like a crown... or a bird's foot print..." Malfoy tilted his head and squinted at the pills. "Or maybe the number three... No, a letter - an E?"

"Oh yeah, it must be an E," said Harry. "The name of this drug is Ecstasy."

Malfoy's eyes glinted - he definitely liked the name. He threw one of the pills at Harry, a little disappointed when Harry expertly caught it in mid air. "Take it," he demanded. "I wanna see what it does."

"No way! I'm not your guinea pig, take it yourself."

Malfoy explained slowly as you would to a child, "You will take one and if nothing bad happens to you, I'll take the other one."

Harry wanted to try it. He wondered how being happy would feel like. He knew he felt it before, there was a fogged memory of it hidden somewhere in his brain, but that was before the world exploded in his face and all hope died. Died like everything else in his life. He had not truly smiled in so long, he was sure the muscles around his mouth and cheeks had already atrophied.

"How about we both take it together? At the same time?" Harry offered. He knew he probably should not, it was illegal and he had no idea how it would affect him. But really, how much could a tiny little thing like that do, anyway? Plus, it was pink. And pink things could never be dangerous, right?

Malfoy considered for a moment, but eventually agreed.

Harry filled two goblets with pumpkin juice and handed one to Malfoy. "Ready?"

They took a deep breath, popped the pill in their mouths, made sure the other was doing the same, and swallowed with a gulp of juice.

"It didn't work," Malfoy stated immediately.

"Give it some time," Harry laughed, "it's not like magic; let it reach your stomach and melt first."

"I always knew Muggles were slow..." Malfoy murmured.

xxx

They sat and waited for more than half an hour before Harry noticed... something. There was something different, so subtle he was not sure it was more than mere imagination. The room around him was more vibrant, the colours sharper, and... he could feel his teeth? How bizarre... he could not remember ever feeling his teeth before.

The temperature seemed to have dropped, even though the sun was still shining brightly, and dread plunged Harry's mind. What have I done? What if something goes wrong? I'm locked here alone with Malfoy!

He looked at Malfoy sitting on a table before him - he was hugging himself and shivering violently. Just as abruptly as it came, his own fears vanished and were replaced with worry. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"I feel queasy," Malfoy answered in a tiny voice. "Make it stop."

Harry's stomach was a little sensitive as well a few minutes earlier but it disappeared so quickly, he hardly noticed it. "It's OK," he said tenderly. "Take a deep breath and try to think of something else. You will feel better, I promise," he tried to reassure.

Things were changing rapidly around Harry, even though the shapes themselves remained the same. It was as if he forgot his glasses in the morning and now, after accustoming to see all blurry, putting them back on, bringing the world into focus. And it was not just his sight - all his other senses seemed to enhance. He became aware of everything: the wind in his hair and the whistling of it in his ears, the aroma of the food in the air and its taste on his tongue, the hardness of the wooden table he was sitting on, and his speeding heartbeats. He was also very aware of Malfoy's movements: his chest rising as he was breathing deeply, how his hands clutched his knees, and the way he kept blinking as if to make sure what he was seeing was real.

Soon Malfoy's eyes cleared and he seemed to relax. "I think it's starting to work. Can you feel it too?" he asked, sounding a lot more enthusiastic.

"Yeah," Harry nodded vigorously. He was not sure what, but feel was a good word to describe it.

A hooting sound came from outside and captured Harry's attention. The sound made spiralling loops around his brain like an endless tune, and he wanted to see the owl that made it, needing to thank it for the music.

He stood up and made to walk towards the window.

...And then it started.

His feet were like helium-filled balloons. Every time his foot touched the stone floor it bounced back, as light as air, sending him shooting towards the ceiling. Walking never felt so wonderful, the movement effortless, so carefree. He completely forgot about the owl, now far away above the Forbidden Forest, and turned to Malfoy who was sitting and swaying his legs restlessly.

"You must get up! It's brilliant, like walking on clouds." It was hard to speak with the huge grin now decorating his face.

Malfoy stood up, and from the matching expression, he enjoyed the experience as much as Harry did.

And somehow, knowing that, made Harry's lips stretch even wider.

"It's better than Fizzing Whizbees!" Malfoy announced.

"It's even better than a Cheering Charm," added Harry.

And it really was. Better than anything he had ever experienced.

They marched back and forth inside the little room, enjoying the sensation and beaming at each other, occasionally bumping into tables and telling them "sorry".

Harry's body buzzed with joy, his fingertips tingled, his eyes were wiggling in a way that would have worried him any other time but right now he thought was funny, and pleasant shivers glided down his spine as wave after wave of exhilarating energy washed through him. His blood was made of liquid ice, but he was not cold - he was alive. He could feel it flowing inside his veins, feeding every little cell and pore like a miraculous machine, working non-stop just to keep him breathing.

And he was thankful.

For the first time in so long he was alive - and glad for it. The feeling was so brutally intense and overwhelming he had to sit down. He landed on the window seat and concentrated solely on inhaling and exhaling, letting the air that was now so tangible he could bite into it, filling his mind and lifting him higher.

Malfoy was still parading in front of him, lifting his feet as high as he could, and giggling like a schoolgirl. The sound was vibrating in Harry's head, merging with the wind and his thoughts, composing a melody that would forever remain in his ears.

He repeated the name 'Malfoy' in his head. It did not fit this boy at all. Malfoys are cold and hard and evil, the name tasted wrong on his tongue. It was a funny name, anyway, Malll-foy. "Can I call you Draco?" he asked. Yes, that name fits much better, he thought.

"Right now you can call me a Weasley and I wouldn't mind," Malfoy laughed.

"I think I prefer Draco. And maybe you can call me Harry?"

"OK, Harry."

Hearing his first name brought a deeper sense of closeness and Harry was delighted.

The sun was warm on the back of his neck as Harry leaned back on the glass, watching the cracks in the ceiling winking at him fondly, and listening to that special music - letting it flow over him as he was floating peacefully in a sea of serenity.

It was as if space itself changed its form. Becoming deeper, curved, wider... and taking Harry's head with it.

All of a sudden he realised it was not the world that changed - it was himself. And he would never be the same again. He knew he was now the true Harry, the one whom had been crammed into the dark cupboard of his mind, locked away behind a wall of false smiles, and a pretence of toughness. The doubts and guilt that were suffocating his soul were gone, letting the real Harry shine through. Allowing him to live, love and believe. To be a child again.

He was reborn.

It was a glorious feeling of being complete and whole; all masks were off, like coming back home after long years of exile. He vowed never to be lost again.

He closed his eyes. Life is good.

Harry was basking in pure happiness, watching the shapes and colours on the screen of his closed eyelids swirling and shifting like a kaleidoscope, when he heard the sweetest voice...

"Are you all right?"

He looked up to see the kind caring face of Draco looking down at him.

"I'm more than all right," Harry said. "This is amazing."

Draco sat beside him, smiling. "It really is amazing. I think I'm... happy." he said it like it was the first time he ever felt that way.

The energetic sensation from before subsided a little and instead a sense of tranquillity took over and Harry's mind calmed. Staring into someone else's face made him pensive and thoughtful. He wanted to talk, to share, and he had the most peculiar urge to be honest...

"I'm really glad you're happy." Harry said. He did not know why, but it was true - his own well being depended on Draco's happiness.

They gazed into each other's eyes. Draco's were big and glossy, almost completely black, and sparkled with thousands little stars just like the night sky - a doorway into the universe of his soul. Harry was mesmerised; he could not even blink.

"I'm sorry for all the nasty things I've done to you," Draco apologised quietly and startled Harry out of his haze.

"Don't be." There was no trace of anger in Harry's heart. "You kept pushing me, and it's what forced me to be the best I could. And you were constant, always there. I remember your face in every significant point of my life... You were even the first wizard my age I'd met. Remember? At Madam Malkin's"

Draco nodded.

Harry almost forgot about that fact, and now that he remembered, he felt some kind of a mystical bond between the two of them. Something destined.

"There is a reason for all of it" Harry stated. The words seemed to materialise by themselves and stream out of his mouth without thinking, the knowledge emerging from deep inside him, or maybe from the entire world around. It was the same; every part of his being was connected - his heart, body, and mind - connected to each other and to everything else.

"We all have a mission to complete here," he continued, "and it's not a task we are obligated to execute - it's who we are. But it's not all we are, just a small fraction. I'm not just 'The Famous Harry Potter' - I'm Ron and Hermione's best friend, I love flying, I'm crap at Potions, I'm doing drugs with you..." he laughed. "And all those things are not less important than being 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', because they are what makes me me." Things started to clear in his head as he listened to himself speak.

"Everything is connected: me, you, this room, the sun, the lake, all existence. The universe is a living being and we are all parts of it. Like the cells and organs of our bodies that work together, doing different tasks for one single purpose, we do our parts to keep this being, which is actually us, alive. Fighting Voldemort is not something I have to do because Dumbledore said so. I'm not a pawn, I see it now. But I am going to fight Voldemort some day and I'll be doing it because I choose to, because it's who I am."

The hatred he had felt for himself and others, the depression and the consuming dread that had been dragging him down ever since hearing the prophecy, were entirely gone. An enormous weight lifted off his heart as he finally understood - he was free.

"Do I make sense?" he asked Draco who was staring at him, speechless.

"Yes." It was a simple answer, and yet all Harry needed to hear.

Draco looked down at his hands. "At least you know who you are and what you're going to do. I don't know anymore," he whispered.

"Just be yourself and you could do anything." It was a cliché, but it made sense and seemed so simple to Harry now.

Draco raised his eyes to meet Harry's. "It was supposes to be easy. I was going to be rich, successful and respectable, just like my father." His face fell. "And then he got himself caught and it's all lost now. I was destined to be a Death Eater, but I don't want to. I refuse to end up like my father, wasting my life and freedom for someone else. I kneel to no one" he added proudly with his head held up high. "Besides, the Dark Lord is a hypocrite - preaches against half-breeds and Mudbloods while he himself is not even a pure-blood! His father was a common Muggle, did you know?"

"Yes." Of course he knew - Voldemort himself told him. "So the reason you won't be a Death Eater is not the mask and the tattoo like you told me earlier?" Harry asked.

Draco waved his hand dismissively. "That's just what I tell everyone so they'll stop bugging me and won't think I'm a blood traitor. The Dark Lord doesn't deserve my worship, or going to Azkaban for. That man had sixty years of practice and experience, and still he failed killing an eleven-year-old Muggle-raised boy. You. And he kept on failing ever since."

Draco looked at Harry as if he was seeing him for the first time. "Funny I never thought of it before, but if anyone deserves my following," he inclined his head, "...it's you."

Harry's heart swelled in his chest. What Draco had said made him feel so powerful and confident, if Voldemort was there at that moment, Harry would have defeated him easily. "Thanks," he said. "It means a lot to me."

That was an understatement.

Draco looked thoroughly stunned by his own confession. Harry suspected Draco was suffering from the same case of compelling honesty he was, otherwise he would have never admitted those things.

Looking out at the grounds below them, they could see their fellow students walking lazily on the path to Hogsmeade.

"Do you still wish you could Apparate out of here?" asked Draco.

Harry realised he did not. He was fully content on staying in that room forever. Staying with Draco. "No," he answered. "I like it here." He watched as the pink lips before him smiled. "...Pretty."

"Yes, it is a pretty room," said Draco. His eyes were darting around and could not seem to focus on one thing for too long. "When we came in, I thought it was dull and filthy, but now I see how wrong I was. I mean, look at it - it's shimmering with magic. Oh, and have you seen all the wooden furniture?" He leaned to whisper in Harry's ear, "They're breathing."

Harry looked at the blackboard. Draco was right! It was pulsing, breathing like a living creature. "Wow..." he marvelled in wonder.

Draco nodded in agreement. "And all the dirt - it's not necessarily a bad thing, you know. Maybe the dust is covering the floor to protect it. Maybe it loves the floor. It's quite romantic really." He sighed.

Listening to Draco talking about the relationship between the dust and the floor was too surreal. Harry smiled. He never believed him the romantic type.

"Everything looks so beautiful," Draco carried on. "This room, the walls, my shoes, your clothes, that tree." He pointed outside at a willow tree. "And that one." He pointed at another. "And that one, too!"

Harry watched in amusement as Draco was pointing excitedly at every tree he spotted. However hard he tried, he could not stop grinning. That was no doubt the cutest thing he had ever seen.

"...And look at the really tall one over there," Draco kept going, now pressing his nose and palms against the glass of the lower sealed part of the window. "And..." he stopped and frowned. "Isn't that your friends?" He pointed at the unmistakable red head following another bushy one.

Harry looked down and saw Ron and Hermione walking together to Hogsmeade.

"I used to be jealous of them," Harry blurted, having a sudden urge to confess something he was so ashamed of, that he never even admitted to himself. It was clear to him his two best friends were meant to be together, and he dreaded the moment Ron would finally get a clue and it would come to happen. Leaving him, Harry, outside and alone; a pathetic fifth wheel. "But I'm not jealous anymore," he said. He found all the torturous envy dissipated, replaced by acceptance and a hope that maybe one day he too would find that special someone. "I love them both so much and I want them to be happy. They deserve each other," he said sincerely.

"Don't worry, you'll have your turn," Draco said confidently and Harry knew he would never be alone.

xxx

This is my church
This is where I heal my hurts
It's a natural grace
Of watching young life shape
It's in minor keys
Solutions and remedies
Enemies becoming friends
When bitterness ends

xxx