The Princes of Fire & Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To know that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

~Fire and Ice, by Robert Frost~

* * * * *

CHAPTER II: Of Potions and Quidditch

Non sum quails eram

(I am not what I use to be)

"Oh my God, Harry! What the hell happened to you?"

Ron still had his sweater half on, rendering one arm useless, as he stood, mouth agape, staring at Harry’s face. Harry hadn’t looked in a mirror yet, but he hadn’t imagined he could look all that bad.

"Huh?" He said, still a little sleepy, finishing the buckling of his belt. He grabbed his cloak casually and walked over to the mirror. His face felt a little stiff. "Ooh." It was not a pleasant sound. A haggard Harry looked back at him. There were circles under his eyes from his lack of sleep and his hair still wouldn’t lay flat. Plus, his lip – where Draco had hit him – was puffy, swollen, a little purplish and capped off with an unflattering scab. He licked it subconsciously and glanced guiltily over at Ron.

"I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said I ran into the door?"

"Nope."

"Banged my face on my dresser in my sleep?"

"Nope."

"Er… beat myself up?" Harry concluded weakly.

"Hell no. Harry-" Ron took a step towards him and Harry pulled back for some reason he couldn’t quite place.

"Guess I should get this fixed," he muttered sheepishly. Absent-mindedly he wondered if Draco’s face bore any scars from the night’s brawl. It’d be a shame to blemish that impeccably smooth skin like pure ivory and immaculate face of his, a voice whispered in Harry’s head. Perfect? What the hell – Harry thought at himself in confusion, vigorously shaking his head in agitation. The picture of a bruised Draco that had been pleasing Harry was replaced by a portrait-like take on him and it was disturbing, unnerving and-

"HARRY!" It was Ron, looking at him with worry in his eyes and his hand gripping Harry’s arm as if to steady him. "HARRY, ARE YOU OKAY? WHAT HAPPENED?"

"Eek! Stop yelling Ron," Harry whispered, holding his ears. "It’s not that bad. Just a busted lip. It happens in fights."

Ron’s eyebrows rose with interest.

"Fights? Who’d you fight?"

Harry grimaced.

"Malfoy."

"What?" Ron exclaimed in surprise. "When?" Then something clouded over his eyes, even if just briefly. "Without me?"

Harry winced.

"It wasn’t like I was excluding you, Ron. You were asleep already. I – I – it wasn’t planned. I took my cloak last night for a walk because, I… couldn’t sleep. I bumped into Mr. Insomniac-crazed Malfoy and we had some biting remarks for each other and then-"

"Decided to start biting each other?" Ron finished with wry amusement. Harry started. He was sure Ron had meant that in a bad way… but… God, what has gotten into me?

"Something like that." His eyes brightened briefly. "I got the edge on him. Unfortunately, not before he landed a fist in my mouth. Oh well."

Ron shrugged, looking at Harry in a combination of admiration, wonder and perhaps a little wistfulness at not seeing Harry pummel that bastard.

"There’s always next time – when you let me second," he said with great importance. Harry started laugh and then faded out when he realized that was a little painful at this moment. He reached down and grabbed his cloak – hair unruly or not, face looking scrappy or not – it was time to make an appearance at breakfast.

"Hey – I think Ginny has been taking some Magical Medicine classes. I’m sure she can fix a busted lip," Ron said helpfully as they filed out of the portrait hole.

"Great, thanks," Harry said as they headed off towards the Great Hall.

* * * * *

A couple days later Harry found himself wearily enduring Potions class again. He and Ron were putting the finishing touches on cleaning their desks after making their latest potion. As the rest of the class finished up, Harry scanned the room and found the tall Slytherin easily.

Draco was leaning back in his chair, as usual, his long legs stretched out and the dim lights of the dungeon reflecting off his bright hair. His desk was already looking immaculate and he was regarding his fingernails in a lazy bored manner. However, every now and then he would fidget under the desk or shift less gracefully than normal. Harry noted this but attributed it to anticipation for today’s Quidditch match. Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw – very crucial in the cup points area as well as setting the stage for the Slytherin – Gryffindor match.

Suddenly Draco turned around and Harry found his gaze unexpectedly met my cool silver eyes. Draco didn’t even blink but turned back and crossed his arms. Harry recoiled a little in surprise and slid further down in his own seat. Ron turned to him and appeared to be just about to make a comment when Professor Snape stepped in front of the class and began speaking again.

"And now, finally, before you go I would like to assign your research projects for this semester." In his pause several groans could be heard around the room. Harry found his eyes drawn to the back of Malfoy’s head, which he found bowed slightly as if in thought. Snape continued. "Each of you will be paired with a partner and you will do extensive research culminating in a presentation on an advanced potion. Some of these potions are illegal, so those will not need to be prepared – but the rest will. Those not allowed will be making up that time in the library, no doubt, having a harder time doing their research and I expect a little… extra effort on the presentation. Due to the nature of many of these potions I will be assigning both the partners and the potions." He paused again and grabbed a sheet of parchment from the top of his desk.

Harry made eyes at Ron, desperation and hope behind each of their stares. Maybe I’ll get to work with Ron, Harry thought, Or Hermione. Snape cleared his throat and began reading.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley and Padma Patil: The Elixir of Life."

Harry stared blankly ahead, afraid to look at his friends anymore lest Snape perceive this and change their assignments. That is, if Snape had been considerate in the first place. When did I get so superstitious? Harry shook his head dully. Please, something go right this week.

In the front row Draco still had his head bowed. His head was aching again and Potions was boring him. He was also concentrating on the match today – it was better than thinking about the owl he had received from his father this morning. That had made his stomach churn – and Draco had not often been nauseous in his life.

"Graham Pritchard and Malcolm Braddock…" Snape’s voice pierced through his brain again. He looked up momentarily.

"Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle: The Wit-Sharpening Potion."

Surprisingly this cleared Draco’s mind a bit and he chortled under his breath. Who said Snape didn’t have a sense of humor?

"Oh my God," Ron whispered out of the corner of his mouth to Harry. "Is Snape trying to be funny?"

Harry convulsed slightly with silent laughter.

"Hermione Granger and-" Harry felt his heart in his throat. "Seamus Finnigan: Love Potions."

Harry sighed heavily as he and Ron looked over at Hermione. She looked, perhaps slightly surprised but ultimately nonplussed, just eager to begin the assignment. Seamus looked thrilled to have been paired with her, probably for multiple reasons.

"Ron Weasley and-" Harry shut his eyes tightly, willing his name into Snape’s sentence. "Dean Thomas: Polyjuice Potion."

Shit.

Ron looked at him a little downcast and disappointed. Then a little apologetic – after all, not many people left. Harry surveyed the classroom. Maybe I’ll get Neville, though he isn’t much help… He leaned back nervously.

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy: Veritaserum."

Both Harry and Draco jumped, visibly startled in their respective seats across the dungeon classroom. Snape appeared not to have noticed though Harry thought he saw a demonic smirk tugging at the corners of his thin and sallow lips.

Immediately his eyes flew to Ron for sympathy and then, reluctantly, he glanced down to find Malfoy scowling at him with quite obvious disgust. Harry glared back. After all, I’m going to be just as miserable as you, he thought fiercely. Could this get any worse?

Draco could not believe his ears. What had happened to being teacher’s pet? He emphatically decided that he did not like Snape’s sense of humor. Not in the least. Not to mention all the other problems this would cause, besides the usual going-to-kill-each-other mentality of Potter and him. Complications were something he did not need just now. And just this morning he had come to the conclusion that it would be best to avoid Potter and at costs. Well, bugger. This was going to be difficult. His headache was really pounding now and the nausea was coming back. He heard Snape dismiss the class and got up hollowly, although his natural cool seemed to disguise this discomfort. He strode purposely but elegantly up the aisle, and his eyes only darted towards Potter at the last minute as he passed the back row.

Harry caught Draco’s quick glance and shuddered. He was feeling sick now. Why does the world hate me? He thought as he felt Ron’s sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"Well, it could be worse," Ron said without much conviction. He had that grasping-for-straws tone which Harry caught onto easily.

"Oh?" Harry asked dully. What the hell could be worse than working with Malfoy?

"Yeah," Hermoine piped up, trying to be helpful. "You could be researching the love potion with Malfoy."

Harry almost gagged.

"Hey, Hermione, that’s saved for us exclusively," Seamus said with mock bravado and a sly wink at Ron and Harry.

"It’s a shame you can’t make that one," Ron said absently.

"Ooooh, but you and Malfoy get to make a real veritaserum potion!" Hermione said, unable to control her excitement.

"I wonder if Snape will let ya use it on Malfoy," Seamus said thoughtfully. "Nothing like a shot of truth serum to get the evil minion beans spilt."

Ron gave a little laugh as they escorted a very pale looking Harry out of the classroom.

"Cheer up, Harry! It’s just one project." Hermione smiled at him.

"Oh, I can understand," Ron said grimly. "It is Malfoy. Bastard." His voice had turned dark but then a sly smile spread across his face. "On the plus side we are just hours away from watching the Ravenclaws stomp all over the Slytherins like a chimaera."

* * * * *

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Seamus all filed into the already full stands. The crowd was already in a state of frenzied excitement – the Ravenclaw –Slytherin match always led into the Battle of the Titans Slytherin – Gryffindor match and it also set the tone for which team was in top form that particular year. Slytherin and Gryffindor were usual the most equally matched – and it would come down between those two for the House Cup, but if anyone gave the Slytherins a run for their money and their place with Gryffindor, it was Ravenclaw. These games could go either way.

Harry scanned the pitch intently. The Ravenclaws were already lined up and the Slytherins were entering the field. Malfoy stood out easily in his immaculate green and silver robes complete with the captain’s armband. His platinum locks shone in the sunlight and he stood like a statue in front of his team. Though abnormal in thought, it seemed in practice the deep greens and silvers did not, in fact, make Draco’s fair skin appear more sickly or colorless. On the contrary, it brightened his silver eyes and complimented his pallid ivory skin quite well. Harry could see his slim but muscular build – perfect for a Seeker. Malfoy was fast in the air, one of the few who really challenged Harry when it came to catching the Snitch. Malfoy was also an elegant and talented flier, his stylized moves more beautiful to watch than Harry’s purposeful dartings and soarings.

Madame Hooch signaled for the captains to come out and shake hands, and as Harry watched Malfoy step out and gracefully accept Cho Chang’s grasp, and then step back with delicate determination, he couldn’t help but think about the charm which he knew hung under Malfoy’s Quidditch robes.

Malfoy turned and seemed to give a brief pep talk or last minute instructions to his teammates who were already in position and mounting their brooms with looks that would have intimidated even some poisonous snakes. Harry knew from experience that the Slytherins were brutal on the field. Come to think of it, they were brutal of the Quidditch pitch as well.

The whistle blew and the teams were up, zooming upwards and soaring high in the air. Harry and his friends all watched for a few seconds before sitting down and turning to each other a little distracted. Seamus seemed intent on explaining various Quidditch plays to Hermione who was looking quite bored. Ginny was jokingly pushing Ron who had teased her about something Harry couldn’t quite make out.

"Just think, next week, we’ll be getting our own Slytherin defeat!" Ron said jubilantly to Harry, who smiled faintly.

"…the Quaffle passes to Padma Patil…she’s blocked by Malcolm Braddock… Slytherin possession and Blaise Zabini is heading for the goal…"

Harry could hear parts of the commentary over the crowds excited cheers but he was still distracted. He was thinking about his encounter with Malfoy in the hallway with the charm – It doesn’t matter. You can’t do anything.

He sighed heavily.

"You alright Harry?"

Ron.

"Yeah, I’m fine."

You can beg all you want, but does it have to be while you are crushing me?

Harry felt the crowd tense collectively and rise to their feet.

Do what exactly?

"Holy fuc-" It was Ron’s voice breaking through his reverie. Harry jolted back as he heard the commentary and glanced up at the figures zooming around in the air.

"… Lisa Turpin takes the Quaffle… heading for the – Oh my! It’s a Snitch sighting!"

Malfoy was already speeding towards the ground, the golden glint obviously reflecting in his eyes. Cho was not in the immediate area.

"…DRACO MALFOY HAS THE SNITCH! GAME TO SLYTHERIN!…"

The crowd went almost silent for a moment – except for the Slytherin fans – and then suddenly there were muffled gasps and scattered cheers.

"Holy, holy fuck!" Ron was shaking Harry. Harry was feeling disorientated. "Did Malfoy just catch the Snitch?"

"…Uh, yes…" Harry said, still in shock, comprehension dawning on him slowly. Malfoy had caught the Snitch. Not that this was all that unusual. But so easily against Ravenclaw?!

"…and Mr. Malfoy is the clear hero in this game…"

"I can’t believe that," Ron was still going on. "Cho wasn’t even aware it was – I mean, he did it in like-"

"- wow, five minutes into the game… has to be a Slytherin record…"

"Geez, Harry, it’s very very rare you catch in that amount of time. Normally it’s like… ten…twenty minutes…at least…"

Harry could spot Malfoy in the center of the cheering huddle of Slytherins on the pitch, before they made their way jubilantly back towards the changing rooms.

Even as Ron, Seamus, Ginny and even Hermione continued to mutter in disbelief over this Harry had the sudden, overwhelming urge to leave. There was something he had to do.

"Um, I have to go…do something… I’ll be back," he said as he started to make his way out of the stands.

"Hey," Ron pouted. "Where are you going?"

"Just – just to, uh, catch Malfoy. Arrange a meeting for… the project…"

Harry knew Ron was frowning as he stared after him, but he was already practically running towards the changing room.

* * * * *

As Harry approached the training room he saw what appeared to be stragglers from the Slytherin team running out, on their way back up to the castle to celebrate.

Have I missed him?

There was a lump in his throat he couldn’t place.

But he hadn’t missed him. Malfoy was sitting on the bench, now alone, with his Firebolt lying carelessly next to him. The front of his Quidditch robe was open revealing his thin, white and still stylish shirt underneath. He sat with his legs slightly parted, his elbows balanced on his knees and his head cradled in his palms. His fingers worked absently through the fine strands of his gold-spun hair and massaged his temples as though they were causing him great pain. He looked anything but the victorious Quidditch hero and even less like his normal arrogant, confident and poised self.

Suddenly Harry saw Malfoy’s shoulders tense visibly. Slowly he raised his face and Harry found the penetrating stare turned on him in all its intense fury. The pain seemed to clear from behind the gray eyes and he even slouched a little, into his usual carefree position as if he was in fact relaxed and feeling perfectly fine. Harry had seen the weight pressing down on him already, but it was impressive all the same.

How does he do that?, wondered Harry.

"Potter," Malfoy drawled, a smirk spreading easily along his lips. "Come to congratulate me?" He was regarding the silent Harry bemusedly. "Or maybe just to gaze in admiration…?"

This shook Harry out of his silence and gaping.

"No, Malfoy. I came to – I came to-" Damn it! Once again Harry lost his concentration and angry tone as he looked at Malfoy. Something was bothering him. Maybe it’s just me…

"What, Potter? Out with it." Now the malice had crept back into Malfoys voice.

"Uh, arrange a time to work on our project," Harry finished lamely. Malfoy raised his eyebrows at him in slight surprise but didn’t say anything immediately.

"Really." It wasn’t a question. His eyes flickered down to his nails casually and he wasn’t looking at Harry anymore. "Tomorrow then. Tomorrow evening, nine o’clock. Astronomy Tower – the fifth floor storage room."

"Well, aren’t we feeling bossy." The words popped out of Harry’s mouth before he really thought about them. Instinctively Malfoy’s glare returned and he scowled at Harry.

"You got want you came for Potter, now leave," he said darkly. Harry stared back at him, his usual anger and stubbornness flowing back into him now.

"You can’t get rid of me so easily," he said. "Not before you explain something to me."

"Oh?" Again, Draco’s eyes fluttered over his own clothes, his hands – anything but looking at Harry. It wasn’t a submissive gesture in anyway, quite the opposite. Harry didn’t interest him. He was insignificant. And he could care less what Harry was saying to him now.

"Yes. About catching the Snitch."

This seemed to catch his attention.

"You want tips, Potter?" Draco smirked.

"I want to know what your performance had to do with that charm around your neck."

The smirk disappeared off Draco’s face. His eyes darkened.

"I don’t follow you, Potter, sorry."

"Exactly," Harry said fiercely. "You can’t follow me, Malfoy. Oh – you put on a good show. And in fact, you are actually the only Seeker who gives me a challenge. But you’re not that good. I’m not that good."

Malfoy stood up abruptly.

"I’m sorry you are coming to terms with your inadequacy, now I suggest you leave." His voice was cold and laced with enmity.

"That charm is bad – Malfoy, as I’m sure you know. I know that-"

"You know nothing," Malfoy hissed scornfully. "No shove off."

Draco was leaning in towards Harry in a manner that was rather intimidating.

"Malfoy, it seems-"

"FUCK OFF POTTER!"

Harry jumped as Draco screamed at him. Usually Malfoy went for the hissing, malevolent whispering kind of intimidation – Harry had rarely heard him raise his voice quite so harshly. His face flushed red with anger, but he saw a losing battle and turned away from Draco, stalking off back towards the school.

Fuck you, Malfoy, he thought bitterly. Fuck you.

Draco watched carefully as Harry stormed out of the room with a grim smile of satisfaction on his face. Gingerly he walked back over to the bench and sat down. He stared at the wall.

He hadn’t meant to get so worked up over Potter – even yelling like that in the end. But his head was killing him, as if someone had split is skull open for fun. And his body ached all over. It was a bit like being chewed and spit out, he thought morosely. Then again, it had had its reasons – he had won the game. He fingered the charm distractedly.

Of course Potter would ask him about the game – confront him about his spectacular dive and catch. Harry wasn’t stupid.

Draco sighed. He was tired. Tired of the whole damn thing.

Actually, he conceded to himself, he wasn’t tired with the idea of power. Power he was still interested in, but more and more he was beginning to think that, in the end, he would be left with none. After all, what power did is father really have? Sure, Lucius Malfoy was Voldemort’s left hand man – but he was still a servant of Voldemort. And more than that, he had made Draco even more subservient than that. Lucius had talked excitedly about the Dark Lord’s triumphs and rewards for all and Draco had felt the pull in his very blood to support all of this – to do whatever his father told him. But what his father told him came from Voldemort. Voldemort who needed Draco because he was close to Harry – closer than he could get.

But he doesn’t need me, Draco thought bitterly. He is just using me. Screwing me over with this amulet, which is getting quite annoying. And using me to spread his word. And using me to get at Potter. And when it’s all over, he’ll have everything, and I’ll still have nothing.

Suddenly filled with renewed strength that anger and ambition together with determination can produce, Draco stood up from the bench and grabbed his Firebolt.

His father had done one thing right – he’d brought him up as a true-blooded Malfoy. And Malfoys didn’t bow to anybody. They didn’t beg, they didn’t cower and they sure as hell didn’t stand by and watch themselves get screwed over.

Draco held the charm tightly in his fist and stormed out of the changing room. He had a little bit of power now – it was time to ensure he would have more after it was all over.

* * * * *

Harry kicked the door open to his dorm room and it smacked the wall with a fierce bang. Ron, sitting on his bed, jumped up in surprise.

"Malfoy is such a goddamn, stuck up, prick!"

"Meeting go that well?" Ron asked dryly, walking over to meet Harry. Harry threw himself angrily down on his bed and Ron sat on the edge peering at him curiously. "Why do you keep running off to piss Malfoy off and leave me behind? I’d like to watch him get ruffled." He gave a mock pout.

Harry gave him a cursory glance and then chucked a pillow at him.

"I don’t keep running off to throw myself in Malfoy’s way just to become fodder. The thing in the hallway – that was coincidence. And this… ug… I can’t believe I let him win."

"He won?" Ron look disappointed. "See, if I’d been there to back you up…"

Harry sat up and looked at Ron.

"Well, he didn’t really win, per se. He got the last word in. Words, actually. Malfoy can get really pissed off you know?"

"Yeah," Ron said blandly. "He practices that scowl in the mirror." Harry laughed mirthlessly. "So, um, all this anger over a meeting for the project?" Ron’s tone let Harry know his redheaded friend was definitely aware he had been holding back.

"Well, not exactly… just the usual Potter vs. Malfoy ancient grudge stuff."

"Uh-huh." Ron didn’t look Harry in the eyes. Harry suddenly felt very guilty. He had been so distracted and moody recently, and, well, he was so use to confiding in Ron and having Ron by his side.

"Ron?" Harry’s voice was softer now.

"Yeah?" Ron looked up, unable to keep the hopeful curiosity out of his voice.

"I’m sorry."

"Huh?" Ron looked very confused.

"I’m sorry," Harry began earnestly, "I’m sorry if I’ve been leaving you out. If I’ve been distant – distracted and moody." He paused and smiled at Ron. "You’re my best friend."

"Oh, well," Ron looked flustered, but happy. He gave a huge smile to Harry. "That’s alright. Apology accepted."

"Swell." Harry and Ron just sat there smiling at each other for a while before Harry spoke up again. "So, I’m going to tell you now."

"What?" Ron asked.

"Why I’ve been so, you know, distracted."

"Ah," Ron scooted closer and leaned in deep interest. He had obviously been dying of curiosity and was struggling now not to show it. Harry couldn’t really blame him.

"I think you can imagine basically why… last semester, well… this summer couldn’t erase everything." Harry sighed and Ron looked at his friend’s face with concern. Harry looked very tired. Ron nodded slowly in agreement as he continued. "That peace we strived for over the summer – it was all shattered by reality the minute we stepped on the train and I saw Malfoy." He swallowed thickly. "I’ve been dreading this – but expecting it all the same. I mean, I saw Lucius there, you know. I figured Malfoy would be involved somehow. But, I mean, so far he has just been acting really weird. I mean, suddenly he is challenging Hermione when it comes to being a know-it-all in all the classes."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "And the brilliant Snitch catch today was not exactly typical Malfoy. I mean, I’m the last one to praise Malfoy, but I know he is the only one who could ever challenge you. He can fly pretty well," Ron said this grudgingly and had an expression so distasteful on his face Harry had to suppress a laugh. "But not that well."

"Exactly. I feel… tuned into the Dark Magic on some level now, and I sense something, Ron, There’s been this feeling in the pit of my stomach and, then, the thing with Malfoy is… he has this-"

The door swinging open interrupted him as Seamus and Dean stumbled through. "Oh, Ron! Harry! Here you guys are," Dean laughed breathlessly.

"Hey!" Ron’s eyes looked at them in surprise.

"Oi me, it’s crazy out there," Seamus looked at them ruefully. "Slytherins are still

"Not involving any Slytherins, thank you very much!"

Seamus rolled his eyes at Dean and regarded Harry and Ron.

"What are you guys doing? You should come down!"

Ron looked at Harry. Harry looked at Ron.

"Okay." Harry jumped up as Ron gave him an inquiring look. We can finish this

later, Harry’s eyes said silently to him and Ron nodded slowly.

"Sure," Ron smiled and the four Gryffindors filed back out of the room and down

the stairs.

* * * * *

Harry felt his eyelids slowly closing as he sat, curled up in a chair in the common room, staring blankly at some book in front of him. So much for trying to read and study after Quidditch practice.

Hermione looked up and him and broke off laughing.

"Gee, Harry, you seem to learning so much."

"Hey…" Harry protested feebly. Ron looked over at him and smiled sympathetically.

"This is really boring," he murmured quietly, as if afraid of Hermione’s reaction. Her jaw dropped and he looked at him aghast.

"Ron, you never know when you might need to know how to transform tree branches into arrows." She said this with a completely straight face and Ron goggled at her.

"Yeah, Ron," Harry said with silent laughter shaking his shoulders. "You never know when you might need to know how to transform tree branches into arrows."

Ron stuck his tongue out at them.

"What crazy person would even bother with arrows anymore?" He muttered. Harry was laughing out loud now. Ron shot him a look and they began laughing together.

"Oh, brother," Hermione grumbled, but it wasn’t without amusement.

"I think you’d make a lovely archer," Harry told Ron who proceeded to tackle him.

"Then again, you may be a bit ungraceful." Ron lurched at him but hit Harry’s side and it only had half the impact. "And a bit uncoordinated." Harry said with a grin as he pushed Ron off.

"Well, I’m still one step above a poncy git," Ron said satisfied.

"Whatever," Harry rolled his eyes at him and then glanced up at the clock. Quarter to nine. "Oh, bugger," He muttered, dragging himself to his feet. Ron followed his gaze up to the clock.

"Time for your rendezvous?" He ducked as Harry swatted him.

"Oh yeah. Thank you Professor Snape," he said, his voice dripping with heavy sarcasm. He grabbed his cloak and headed for the door.

"Good luck!" Ron called after him, seconded by Hermione.

"Ciao," Harry responded as he disappeared out of the portrait hole.

* * * * *

Harry wasn’t sure if Malfoy was going to even show up, after all, they were on worse terms than usual. This idea was proven unfounded as he pushed the door open quietly and found Malfoy gazing back at him coolly from the other side of the room. Maybe it was aristocratic manners that made sure Malfoy was always more than prompt – he was early – to meetings. Or, Harry considered cynically, maybe he just liked to get their first to scope out the places. Then another thought struck him as his eyes took in Malfoy leaning against a post, his arms crossed over his chest and his ankles casually crossed as well. He didn’t even blink as Harry stepped in. Maybe, Harry considered, he gets places early to set up so pristinely. Malfoy did have to look of a posed model.

"Potter," he drawled, still not moving. "Welcome." It was the arrogant, somewhat disdainful tone Harry recalled well.

"Let’s get this over with," he said tightly.

"Gee, Potter, one might get the impression you don’t like me."

Harry just glared back. Well, he tried to glare back. Staring so hard at Malfoy – who was returning his glance without even a blink or breaking a sweat – was getting difficult. He was distracted by how pale Malfoy was, his sculpted nose and elegant neck…

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry said. Malfoy just snorted and then walked over to a disused table pushed up against the far wall. His hand slipped inside his robe and he pulled out and empty bottle as well as a few small bags of what looked like various plants, powders and… animal parts. He placed them all together on the corner of the table.

"Here we have one potions bottle, as well as a few of the ingredients." Draco paused and turned around to face Harry directly. "I’ll get the rest of the ingredients and study the recipe. You do a little research on the history of veritaserum potions and all of that."

"You already have some of the ingredients?" Harry said in disbelief. Draco shrugged.

"You know me, Potions Expert. Now, as for the rest of this…"

"Yeah, what?" Harry asked.

"You think you can do that, Potter?" Harry realized Draco was looking at him curiously. Harry realized maybe he shouldn’t have asked a question when Malfoy had just told him ‘what’.

"Why do I have to do the research? You seem to be getting pretty good at that yourself, Malfoy," Harry said, thinking of all of Draco’s correct answers in class.

"Whatever, Potter. I thought some of Granger’s bookishness would have rubbed off on you by now. If that’s what rubs off on you. And, as for my part, I thought being Snape’s favorite student might help me out there. But if you really want to spend some quality time with him getting some ingredients…" he trailed off.

"No, no, whatever, that’s fine," Harry mumbled trying to ignore Draco’s not so veiled insults. Malfoy looked pleased.

"Good. Guess I’ll see you same time same place a week from today. Bring what you have. We can mix the potion then and get this over with."

Harry looked up at him surprised.

"A week from today?"

"Yes…"

"The game day?"

Draco cocked an eyebrow at Harry in slight surprise.

"What, can’t handle doing a simple potion after losing a game Potter? I would have thought better of you."

Harry detected the immense confidence in Draco’s statement about a Gryffindor loss. But he always sounds like that. He shook his head slightly.

"No, that’s fine, Malfoy. If it’ll take your mind off of losing…"

Draco grinned without mirth at him.

"Those comebacks – they’re getting better, Potter. Maybe you can learn something."

And with that he turned away from the table and walked out, leaving Harry there alone. Harry gazed after him in confusion and then slowly walked over to the table and looked at the ingredients. Everything looked normal. Well, normal considering there were some really bizarre ingredients in a veritaserum potion. He reached out and picked up the bottle, feeling the smooth glass in his hand, before setting it down again. He figured Filch must never come in here, or at least rarely. Malfoy seemed to be unconcerned about the stuff being disturbed within the week, and Harry had a feeling Malfoy would know. He walked out of the room and shut the door.

* * * * *

Game Day.

Draco winced slightly as he put on his robes for school. It was getting harder to concentrate. He figured that the amulet was getting intensified because if the orders he had received last night. So be it.

He shook out his arms, trying to rid them of uncharacteristic stiffness. Glancing in the mirror he saw he was starting to have visible shadows under his eyes. That won’t do at all. He combed his hair back gently; making sure every strand was in place and brushed off his cloak before swinging it over his shoulders. Reaching down into his pants pocket he pulled out his wand. Delicately he pointed its tip on the soft skin under each eye and whispered a spell he’d overheard from Madam Pomfey and the dark circles vanished. They’d return again tomorrow.

Then again, who knows if the sun will even come up tomorrow.

Draco took a deep breath and glanced over at his Firebolt, which was laid out on his bed along with his pressed Quidditch robes, wrist guards and other equipment. Somehow he had to get through his classes before the Slytherin – Gryffindor game. It would be a match to remember, of that he was sure.

* * * * *

There was a definite chill in the air, and the breeze was making it worse. Harry shivered slightly, though some of it was nervousness and anticipation of the match to start. He stood at the front of the Gryffindors facing Malfoy who was standing like a statue in front of his. He saw Madame Hooch give the signal for the two captains to come out and shake hands and he didn’t have any more time to over-analyze this moment and this whole game.

Harry watched, almost in a daze, as Draco approached him. He looked startlingly pale under his immaculate green and silver Quidditch robes, but he strode forward with easy confidence.

Draco watched Harry come towards him with mixed feelings. He could feel his face set in its usual nonplussed expression for this occasion – but this time he felt very different inside. As Harry got closer Draco noted his deep scarlet and gold robes, and how they accented his deep green eyes and his brown locks. Draco swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly very dry. The pounding was threatening to explode behind his eyelids but he was ignoring it. Feeling detached from his body he leaned forward, grasped Harry’s warm hand, shook it and then dropped it, retreating quicker than usual. He could have sworn Harry’s eyes were blazing into his, giving him a searching look. What!? Draco wanted to scream at him, but he couldn’t. Numbly he walked back, took his place in front of his team and straddled his broom. Concentrate. Somewhere in the distance he heard the whistle blow and instinct took over. He shot up in the air along with the others.

Harry hovered above the pitch, his eyes instinctively searching for the golden glint of the Snitch. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a green-clad figure, which was, of course, Malfoy. Draco was hovering unusually still, only occasionally zigzagging around – and even that, Harry suspected, was just for show. Few glancing up would have noticed Malfoy’s peculiar and suspicious tactics at the moment. The bizarre antics of Malfoy were only making Harry more nervous, and not just about the outcome of the game. The feeling of dread that had been eating away at his stomach for over a month now was suddenly festering fresh. He felt a little sick as he realized his scar was beginning to ache dully.

Looking up he saw Malfoy was now directly across from him on the pitch. There was a new look behind those silver gray eyes Harry had never seen before – fear. Malfoy looked away as Harry met his gaze worriedly. He saw Malfoy’s hand go to his head and brush back stray strands of hair from his forehead. He also seemed to be having an aching head.

There was a roar from the crowd as Ron scored for Gryffindor. Neither Draco nor Harry bothered to look at the commotion.

Then Harry saw it. A golden streak flashed before his vision and immediately he was racing after it. He could sense Malfoy hot on his trail as they spiraled towards the ground in spectacular dives. There was a roar from the crowd again, as they noticed the chase. But there was something wrong. Harry could see the Snitch clearly, but Draco was gaining on him, and even crossing over. Harry grimaced – sure Malfoy would clip the tail of his own broom. Still, he reached out to snatch the Snitch, but the ground was suddenly very close. He felt his fingers close around the delicate wings, but at the same time – as he pulled up from his dive, Draco seemed to drive harder towards him. Harry closed his eyes – they were going to collide. But then, at the last minute, Draco shot out horizontally in quite a risky move. Still pulling up, Harry grimaced, expecting Draco’s move to push him into an off-balanced roll. But Draco managed to regain control and pushed down for a hard landing, stumbling off his broom. Harry slowed his ascent and circled back, landing on the ground next to a dazed looking Malfoy. Somewhere around him he heard a whistle – the game was over, Gryffindor had won. But, looking into Draco’s face he knew there was more behind this.

The crazy flying, the near collision – and the aching of his scar, which now subsided into faint memory. Malfoy looked away from him and walked off the pitch. Harry’s heart sank.

* * * * *

The Gryffindor common room was full of people talking and laughing, exuberant over their victory over Slytherin. Harry sat on a couch next to Ron rather subdued. Ron looked at him worriedly.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Huh?" Harry looked up at him. "Oh, yeah. It’s just – you know – Malfoy and I almost collided on the field. He was acting weird."

Ron nodded.

"When hasn’t he been acting weird?"

"Exactly." Harry glanced around the room distractedly. He was still running through the dive over and over again – in reality, Draco should have caught the Snitch first. He seemed to anticipate seeing it before Harry did, because he was on Harry’s tail in no time. And then, he had gained as much speed he might have over taken Harry and reached down and plucked the Snitch from the air. But he didn’t. Instead he had done that ridiculous move that almost made the ends of their brooms entangle, and then he had to veer away so drastically into a horizontal plane of flight that wasn’t really recommended. That was an erratic and unproductive move, and Malfoy was never erratic or one to do something unproductive.

"Either way, that was still a spectacular dive, Harry. A brilliant catch!" Ron grinned at him and then he looked conspiratorial.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think there’s something going on between Hermione and Seamus?"

"What?" This brought Harry back to his surroundings and he glanced over to where Ron was looking with a wink. Actually, it was a cross between a wink and a wince.

Hermione sat on a couch with a schoolbook in her lap, open to some assignment that she was not currently looking at. Seamus was sitting on the arm of the couch leaning over her, speaking in a low voice. She laughed and he smiled appreciatively as she began explaining something else.

"Oh my…" Harry said, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, I know. And it’s so weird – I’m not sure if there is anything or if it is requited on either side but… Hermione has been helping Seamus in some of his classes a lot recently and then, he’s even laying off some of the dirtier jokes in her presence!" Ron said with wonder and amusement.

"Maybe they are just working hard on their Potions project." Harry said weakly. Ron snorted.

"I bet they are. They do have ‘love potions’ after all."

"Well…" Harry gave up trying to make an excuse.

"I mean," Ron continued, looking up at him. "Have you been working that hard on your project with Malfoy?"

Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Ronald Weasley, you are sick!"

Ron gave an evil smile.

"Sorry Harry! Though, I don’t think I meant it like that…" He trailed off giving Harry a sympathetic look. "You finish it tonight?"

"Yes. I’m sure Malfoy will be in a great mood."

"Well, he’s always in a prickish, prattish sort of mood so let him make the damn potion and get it over with. And," Ron leaned into him. "Just remember we beat them today!"

Harry forced a smile at this thought and then glanced up at the clock. The celebrations after the match had been going on for quite some time. It was now twenty to nine.

"I think I’m going to head there now," Harry said quietly to Ron. He hadn’t finished his conversation with Ron about Malfoy yet, but right now he just wanted to speak to Malfoy in person. Ron was right: tonight was the night to get it all over with.

He got up from the sofa and ran up the stairs to his dorm room to grab a few books and some notes he had scribbled down about the veritaserum potion. Once he had them in his hands he ran back downstairs and grabbed his clock from the seat next to Ron.

"I’ll see you later, Ron!" He shouted. "By Hermione – Seamus…" He called out as he exited the room.

"Bye," They hollered back. He could hear the laughter in Ron’s voice.

* * * * *

Tonight was no different than last time. As Harry pushed the door open he found Malfoy already in the room, this time sitting on the table with his cauldron and presumably the rest if the ingredients lined up next to him.

"Potter," he said noncommittally as Harry stepped inside and closed the door.

"I think we need to talk, Malfoy," Harry said in response. Malfoy just stared at him. "About this afternoon-"

"So anyway, I have the first few things brewing right now," Malfoy slid gracefully off the table and began stirring the concoction already in the cauldron. "And I’m about to add the Jobberknoll feathers."

Harry tried to continue his train of thought despite being ignored.

"Malfoy, the way you flew during the game-"

"We wait until it turns bluish and then add some crushed Fwooper beaks," Malfoy continued patiently, cutting Harry off.

"DRACO!"

Draco looked up at him, faint surprise flickering across his face.

"Yes, Harry?" He remarked back sarcastically.

Harry walked right up to him and mimicked his casual pose, ready to face off with him.

"I think I need to clear something up, Malfoy," he said, forgoing the usage of Draco’s given name now since he already had Malfoy’s attention. "Last time I talked to you about Quidditch I said you were good, but you weren’t that good." Harry paused, as if waiting for Malfoy to show some expression that he was even listening. He didn’t get one. "Well, I’d just like to amend that statement by saying, you aren’t that bad either."

Malfoys eyes narrowed in a guarded reaction.

"What are you saying, Potter?"

"I’m saying, what the hell was that today? What were you doing out there?"

Malfoy lowered his eyes briefly and then glanced back up.

"I was going after the Snitch."

"The hell you were!" Harry hurled back, surprising even himself. Now Malfoy was cocking his head sideways, regarding Harry with curiosity. Harry swallowed, trying to collect his thoughts. "Last time, versus Ravenclaw, I know your improved skills had something to do with that necklace. I’m going to take wild leap here and guess today’s performance was linked to that as well – despite today’s performance being shoddy!"

"Well, I guess the Dark Arts just didn’t feel like a win today." He smirked back at Harry grimly.

"Dammit, Malfoy! I- I have this feeling that the necklace is somehow… I don’t know - controlling you. And… are you fighting it?" Harry said this last part quietly. Draco looked up in surprise again. Now his gaze was boring into Harry, but not in its usual dissecting manner. He almost seemed to be considering something and trying to decide on an answer.

"I’m a Malfoy," Draco said blandly. "Why would I fight something dark and evil that gives me power?"

Harry looked back at him.

"Because you’re not that evil. And because you won’t serve anyone. You’re an arrogant bastard, Malfoy. You’ll never be Voldemort’s lapdog." Harry was suddenly very aware of Draco looking at him intensely and he felt a tingle down his spine. He didn’t have a clue where all those words were coming from, and now more were escaping his mouth. "You may be acting cool and fine, but I’ve seen you looking tired. The headaches. The circles under your eyes."

Malfoy looked away and then back at Harry. His judgment of Harry had apparently led to a decision.

"Yes."

Harry looked taken aback that Malfoy actually answered him.

"Yes?" He echoed.

"Yes, the necklace is the cause. And yes, I’ve been fighting it." He said tonelessly. "Subconsciously at first, I think that’s why I succeeded in things but still felt a little tired. But today… I fought it for stronger reasons…" He trailed off and turned around to stir the potion again. Harry was trying to take this all in – the information as well as the fact that Malfoy was talking to him seriously now.

"So… that charm, that necklace…" Harry began.

"…Has been channeling some magnifying powers. As a result, my skills – my talents – are being enhanced." Draco said insipidly.

Harry’s eyes widened a bit as he absorbed this explanation. That explained Malfoy’s performance in class, and his Quidditch skills…

"You talents are being enhanced?" He echoed softly.

Something flashed behind Draco’s eyes as he glanced up at Harry. He cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, was there one in particular that you were interested in?"

Suddenly, realizing what he had said, Harry felt himself blush rapidly.

Damn Malfoy!

"Uh – never mind. I don’t think I want to know."

Draco actually laughed at this.

"Good because I’m not telling you anything else. Oh look – it’s blue!" He was pointing at the potion with forced excitement; but in a way it reminded Harry of Snape and his precious potions. They were the only things Harry could imagine getting Snape excited about. Not that he particularly wanted that image either…

Despite himself, Harry walked over closer to the table and leaned in over Draco to look at the potion.

"That looks indigo."

Draco just looked at him sadly and shook his head.

"Tsk tsk, and let me guess – you just can’t imagine why your potions never come out correct."

"They do too!" Harry said indignantly.

"They never come out correct? I know that, I just said that," Draco said snidely. He was looking at Harry with amusement in his eyes. "Hand me the crushed Fwooper beaks."

Harry chucked the little bag at Malfoy who caught it without a second glance and deposited the whole of the contents into the brew. Both Harry and Draco were silent for a few minutes.

"So why didn’t you catch the Snitch today," Harry asked suddenly.

"I told you," Draco said impatiently.

"No you didn’t."

"Yes I did. I told you I wasn’t going to tell you anything else. I wasn’t lying."

"Good. I don’t want you to lie. I want you to tell me the truth. About today. And the almost killing us both part."

Malfoy abruptly slammed his fist down.

"I did not almost kill us both!"

Furiously he grabbed a small vial and busily began pouring the contents into the glass bottle, untouched on the table. He seemed to regain his temper by doing this and taking a deep breath, began talking about the potion again.

"Here, I’m pouring in this kneazle blood in the bottle and after the potion boils for a little bit we can pour it in here and that should be the last step."

Harry watched him closely.

"Tell me the truth then, what did you do? Why? Or…" A thought had struck him. "What were you supposed to do?"

"Can you just let it drop?" Draco said irritably.

"No." Harry spat back. "Just tell me what-" He broke off as his eyes rested on the bottle near Draco’s hands. Draco caught Harry’s look and his eyes followed from Harry to the bottle to the brew in his cauldron, which was just now boiling.

They were brewing a veritaserum after all. The strongest truth serum.

"Maybe we should just finish making the potion," Draco said quietly.

"Good idea," Harry said in a strange voice. Then, abruptly, his hand swung around to try to grab the bottle from in front of Draco. "Then I think we should test it!"

However, Draco had quick reflexes and before Harry could reach it Draco reached out to block him and grab it first but both of their hands clasped around it at the same time.

And then something very strange happened, indeed.

Harry felt a pull suddenly, as his whole body was pushed against Draco and he felt like he was being sucked into vacuum. It was a sensation not quite foreign to him.

"Oh bugger!"

Was that Draco who said that? He thought faintly. His eyes closed and he fell forward into the enclosing darkness.

Oh bugger, he echoed in his own mind. A Portkey.

TO BE CONTINUED…