Shattered Glass

Day 1:

Harry woke the next morning as Ron and the others were leaving the room. He felt refreshed and the previous night seemed like a distant dream. He quickly dressed and hurried down to breakfast. As the minutes passed and there was no new attack Harry began to let himself hope that maybe he would be okay.

When he entered the Great Hall his eyes involuntarily searched for Draco. The pale Slytherin wasn't looking very well and when he spotted Harry he immediately looked away. With an odd feeling in his gut he sat down next to Hermione.

"So where were you last night?" Ron asked Harry with a huge wink.

"Oh, I just went out for a walk," Harry answered vaguely, hoping his friend wouldn't press the matter.

"Fine, fine, if you don't want to talk about it then I understand. But one thing, was it Cho?"

Harry looked up at him in shock. "No, I didn't meet Cho, or any other girl for that matter. I just went out for some fresh air," he said indignantly.

"Okay, I can take a hint. When you do want to talk about the lucky girl, I'm all ears." Harry sighed, mulling over Ron's thick headedness. But if he wanted to believe that then so be it. It was better than him knowing the truth. Ron turned away to talk to Seamus about something and Harry looked up to see Hermione looking at him suspiciously.

"You can fool Ron but not me. Whatever you did last night it wasn't just a walk and it wasn't to meet a girl. So what did you do?" Harry recognized the stubborn set to her jaw and the determined look in her eyes. She wasn't going to stop until she found out the truth and there was no use lying to her.

"No, it wasn't just a walk. But that is the way it started out. I met Malfoy."

"Met as in a prearranged meeting or as in coming across him randomly?" Hermione asked, eyebrows raised. Harry blushed.

"I met him by accident, of course. Why would I go out there to meet him?"

"I don't know. Why would you?" Blushing furiously he continued.

"Anyway, his father was there." Suddenly Hermione's smile was gone. "He gave him a vial of poison and told him to kill me." Hermione was all the way forward in her chair, her face very pale and her lips pressed tightly together.

"What did he say?"

"He refused. And his father used Cruciatus on him." Hermione gasped. "I jumped out and stopped him and he flew away on his broom."

"Did Draco thank you?" Harry paused.

"Actually no. I was thanking him."

"For refusing to kill you? How, um, considerate of him." Harry glared at her but she just smiled sweetly. The pain twisted in his heart again. In only a little more than a week he was going to die. He would leave all this behind, his friends, Hogwarts, Sirius and Lupin, his only real family. His heart filled with despair.

"Oh Hermione," he half sobbed as he buried his head in his arms. "I'm dying."

"What?" she said, absolutely stunned.

"The poison, it's killing me."

"He didn't use it on you, did he? I swear I'll kill the son of bitch if he did."

"No, he didn't. He was talking about using it on himself, committing suicide. I tried to stop him. We had a fight. The glass broke." He raised his scratched hands up for her to see. With a small cry she grabbed them, inspecting them. Harry could see that they looked infected but he couldn't bring himself to go to the nurse. He didn't need to be told by her that he was dying.

"Harry, what was the name of the poison?" she asked desperately, hoping that her vast wealth of knowledge would come in handy.

"Soul's Fire," he said dully. "It has no antidote." She paled considerably and moved back slightly.

"Of all the poisons," she muttered hopelessly. "But are you sure that it's in you?" He nodded.

"I can already feel it working. I was really dizzy last night; I was almost sick. I only got up to the school with Draco's help."

"You're calling him Draco now?" she asked. At any other time she would have been making fun of him. He shrugged.

"What's the point in holding grudges? We both helped each other and we're both dying."

"He's poisoned too?"

"Yes."

"We should talk to the teachers," she said suddenly, trying to catch the dim rays of hope that were rapidly leaving her. "I mean can we really trust a Malfoy to give us all the right information?"

"What about Malfoy?" Ron asked as he turned back to the conversation. Harry shot Hermione a warning look.

"Nothing. What do we have first today?"

Ron groaned. "Potions." Harry went pale. "Are you all right Harry? You don't look so good."

"My stomach's bothering me. It must be something I ate." Ron nodded, shooting him a worried glance.

* * * *

"Each student will pick one poison and do a research paper on it. I want full lists of its side affects, and antidotes or other types of cures and its creation. To be due two weeks from now. I expect most of you to choose form the prearranged list but does anybody else have any suggestions for an addition?" Snape glared around at the class as if just daring them to talk. Draco raised his hand. "Yes Malfoy?"

"I was interested in learning about the poison Soul's Fire," he said quietly. A few people stiffened and Snape looked at his star pupil as if surprised. Harry's heart sped up.

"An odd suggestion, but is anyone else interested in it?" From the look on his face he didn't expect anyone to answer. Harry raised his hand followed slowly by Hermione. Looking confused Ron followed their lead. There had to be a reason behind this odd sudden interest in Potions.

"All right," Snape said, glaring at the class in general. "Soul's Fire is an emerald poison that is highly illegal and dangerous. There is no antidote though there has been talk of some impossible cure. It comes on slowly with death delayed until 10 days after consumption. The poison is made particularly for one person and has less of an affect on others, though it can still kill them. Created by Sir Martin Pichard in the late 1600s, this poison is well known for one reason. It was been used by many Dark Wizards as a sign of their presence. An odd effect of this poison is that it thrives on dark thoughts, enhancing them until the dying can't remember why they want to live. They forget any happiness that is left in the world. In that way it has been compared to Dementors. Now if there are no more questions may we continue? Good, now..."

Harry paid absolutely no attention to the lecture, instead staring off into space, his mind in turmoil. Could that be true? Was he going to die thinking the way he did around Dementors? Could he stand that? Draco wasn't paying attention either. He spent the whole period feeling guilty about what he'd done to Harry.

When the class ended Harry stood up to leave and immediately sat back down, overcome with sudden vertigo. The world spun around him and Harry could vaguely see worried faces crowded around him. 'But they didn't really care, did they?' a nasty little voice in his head complained.

"Are you all right Harry?" Hermione asked shrilly, her face going pale.

"I'll be fine. Just a head rush," he said, trying to force a smile. It felt tight and false. Draco gave him a concerned look, making sure he was actually okay before leaving the room.

"Okay, what's going on," Ron said as they walked through the hall to Transfiguration. "I know you're hiding something from me." Harry gave Hermione a desperate look.

"I'll explain if you go to the nurse to get those cuts treated," she said quietly. Still feeling slightly queasy he agreed and left quickly, not wanting to be there when Ron found out what was going on.

* * * *

Harry looked down at his bandaged hands not trusting himself to look up at the other person in the room. He could feel his eyes on him and it made him feel odd, exposed. He wiggled his fingers, found the thick, white bandages constraining. Madame Pomfrey hadn't asked any questions, she never did. She had thought the infection odd and had given him something for it. But Harry had a feeling that Madam Pomfrey couldn't do anything for it and if it went away that it was doing it on its own.

He fidgeted, moving around in the chair. He bent his head over; to all appearances making a detailed inspection of the nurse's handiwork. Instead he peered up through his hair, trying to look at Draco without making it seem obvious. Their eyes met and a small smile quirked the edges of the Slytherin's mouth.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, his voice amused. Harry blushed.

"Nothing," he muttered. There was silence again. Harry fidgeted, not daring to ask the question on the edge of his tongue. He remembered Cho and that day she had kissed him. He'd been so surprised but then... that had been it. He'd felt nothing, except a little odd. It hadn't felt right. So he had to ask. But it was such an odd question. How to ask it?

Harry opened his mouth to speak but a completely different question came out. "Did she ask how you got hurt?" he said to Slytherin boy.

Draco looked up at him then down at his own bandaged hands. "No. She probably thinks we got in a fight somewhere and one of us cast some odd spell or we broke something by accident."

"Since when do we get into fights when no one knows about it? Don't we usually just try to kill each other in the hallways in front of everybody?"

"Are you implying something?" Draco asked, a smirk growing on his face.

"No," Harry said hurriedly. He looked away, uncomfortable. But the thought, that inescapable idea that had been haunting him tugged at his mind. He just had to know.

Before the rational part of his mind could kick in he asked it. "How did you find out you were gay?" he asked in a rush, peering up at the pale boy through his shield of hair. Draco's mouth made a small "o" of surprise, his expression almost comical. Then, recovering from the shock, he started laughing. Harry could feel his face reddening as Draco bent over double, almost falling of his chair he was so hysterical.

"Oh god Harry, what a question!" Draco cried as he tried to calm himself. "How in the world did you come up with something like that?"

"It's a simple question," Harry grumbled. "If you can't answer it then just say so." Draco sobered but his eyes were still dancing with amusement.

"Why, thinking you might be gay?" Harry went an even brighter shade of red.

"No!" he exclaimed, not at all convincingly. "I was just wondering." Draco suddenly became pensive, staring off thoughtfully into space.

"I don't think there was an actual moment, I just realized after a while that I wasn't attracted to women. It was odd at first and my father was terribly unhappy." He winced, touching his arm gingerly as if it pained him. "But he just ignored it after a while, probably hoping that it would just go away." Harry nodded. As he looked over at the other boy he realized that Draco was uncomfortable talking about this. He suddenly felt guilty.

"Sorry if I'm prying."

"Doesn't matter. Who cares anyway?" Draco flashed him a smile and Harry returned it. The mood lightened considerably. They chatted amiably for a few minutes about absolutely nothing, which covered school, Quidditch and (oddly enough) food. Draco had been going on for some moments about how well the house elves cooked at the manor when he placed his hand on his stomach, his face contorting. Harry laughed, thinking he was still trying to make his point.

"Ugh," Draco grunted before beginning to cough hysterically. Harry stood up in alarm.

"Draco!" he exclaimed, grabbing his arms. The coughing stopped and Draco gasped feebly for breath. With a low moan he slipped into unconsciousness. Harry caught him and lowered him slowly to the floor. "Draco," he said again, shaking his shoulders. "Wake up. Please wake up." He looked pale and lifeless and his breathing was shallow and uneven.

"What are you doing Potter?" came Madam Pomfrey's brisk voice. She stopped when she saw Draco on the floor. "Get away from him!" She ran forward, Harry backing away so he wouldn't be run over. "What did you do to him?"

"I didn't do anything, he just passed out." Understanding came over the nurse's face.

"Right," she said. "That would be whatever poison's working on you two, wouldn't it?"

Harry stared at her shocked. "How did you...?"
She shook her head, picking Draco's limp body up in her arms and carrying him over to the nearest bed. "I did a test on that infection. It was your body's reaction to the poison. What is it called? Or do you know?"

"Soul's fire."

The nurse paled. "Oh no. Wait here." She bustled over to the cabinet, taking out the now familiar sleeping potion. She measured out a liberal dose. "Into bed, there you go. You know the drill, drink this. Now when you wake up neither of you are to leave here. Remember that. I can't have you having fits in the hallways. Sweet dreams." Harry did as he was told. His last thought before blessed sleep overtook him was that now they had a chance, the teachers would take care of things.

* * * *

Harry came awake suddenly, the way he always did when using the potion. He blearily grabbed his glasses and shoved them onto his face, peering around. By the amount of light coming in through the windows Harry judged it as just before sunset. He looked over and could see Draco, still unconscious on the bed next to him. Feeling slightly dizzy he swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked over to the other boy. He sat down next to him, looking down at his sunken eyes and deathly pale face. A sudden horrid thought hit him. He wasn't dead, was he?

"Draco," Harry said softly, grabbing his hand. "Draco, wake up." The boy's eyes squinted tighter in irritation and he muttered something intelligible, moving his face towards Harry. The Gryffindor sighed with relief, his body sagging as he bowed his head down. He was still alive.

"Harry!" came Hermione's voice from the doorway. Harry looked up and saw his two best friends standing there, relief on their faces. Then an odd look passed over Ron's and he looked down at their hands intertwined on the bed.

"That's Malfoy," he said flatly. Trying not to blush Harry let go of Draco's hand and stood up.

"I thought he was dead," he explained.

"I wish."

"Don't say that." Both of his friends looked at him in surprise at his harsh tone. "He tried to save my life."

"And then got you poisoned," Hermione commented as the two walked towards him.

"That was my fault."

"What's going on?" Draco asked thickly, blinking at them sleepily.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked tenderly, sitting down next to him again.

Draco winced. "Like a centaur ran over my head and like my lungs have been shredded to tiny bits. What happened?"
"You had a coughing fit and you fainted."

"How'd you explain that to Madame Pomfrey?" Draco asked with some amusement.

Harry looked away. "She knows."

"What?" Draco sat straight up in bed in shock, anger and fear stamped on his face. "How?"

"Some sort of test." He shrugged. "At least she'll be able to try and help us now." Draco just looked at him then sighed, falling back onto the bed.

"Hopefully she'll find a cure for you." Harry looked at him sharply.

"If she finds something then she's going to heal you too."

"Oh I hope not."

"Stop talking like that!"

"Maybe we should leave," Hermione said, trying to pull the horrified Ron towards the door. Draco started, suddenly aware of their presence.

"Oh great," he groaned, covering his eyes with his hand as if pained. "Just what I need, the Weasel."

"Behave," Harry said, glaring down at him.

"Aye aye, captain. And while I'm at it I'd just like to warn you that I'm going to throw up." Harry could tell by the look in the boy's eyes and the way he was convulsing almost like a cat with a hairball that he wasn't lying. He quickly reached under the bed and pulled out the chamber pot. He handed it to Draco before backing away quickly.

I would say that all of us have thrown up at some point in our lives so it is completely useless and disgusting to go into details. I will leave it to your imagination. If you have a hard time imagining this, then leave well enough alone and just be glad that you weren't Draco.

Hermione had run off for Madam Pomfrey and Ron was still in the same spot, with the same horrified expression on his face. An actual conversation between his best friend and worst enemy in which concern was shown just went against every basic instinct he possessed. Well that's exaggerating, not all of his instincts were involved, like food and his fear of spiders, for example. But I digress...

Draco lay back on the bed, looking completely disgusted in the world as a whole. "Can you get me some water?" he asked of Harry. "That tasted absolutely disgusting." Harry quickly complied and handed the boy the water, which he downed. "Thanks."

Madam Pomfrey ran right in, startling Ron from his odd, horrified stupor. "Malfoy, are you all right?" she exclaimed as she rushed towards the boy. He shook his pale head emphatically.

"Absolutely not. But I will be if you just give me a few minutes." Ignoring the response the nurse procured some foul smelling potion and handed it to Draco, who eyed it disgustedly.

"That should stop you from throwing up again and will help with the coughing. Drink it."

"I'm pretty sure this will just make me throw up more. Do you know how disgusting this stuff smells?"

"Yes I do. And if you haven't drunk it by the time I get back I'll force twice that amount down your throat." Still looking utterly miserable at the proposition of actually drinking it he glared after her retreating back. Muttering something not at all nice under his breath he downed the whole thing in a gulp. He started gagging as soon as he'd forced it down and let out a string of foul curses.

"Bloody well trying to kill me!" he exclaimed. This seemed to strike Harry as hilarious and he started laughing hysterically. Draco glared at him half-heartedly but this soon faded into curiosity.

"What the hell is so funny?"

"You," Harry gasped out. "Her trying to kill you."

"I fail to so the funny part about this." Draco was getting slightly annoyed and Ron was staring at Harry as if he'd taken leave of his senses.

"We're dying and you're complaining about a potion that should help you." He dissolved into giggles once more. Draco just raised his eyebrows. He looked over and exchanged a bemused look with Ron. Now you must understand that they were both so concerned about Harry's mental well being, or, in Draco's case just generally alarmed, that neither one really realized what they were doing.

"He's gone daft," Draco said, almost awed. Ron nodded in agreement. Then the laughter turned into a hacking cough and Harry was gasping for breath. Before Ron had even gotten over the momentary shock Draco was up. He ran swiftly over to Harry, ignoring the dizziness that caused him to look tipsy as he swayed slightly. He landed next to Harry, pulling his wand from his pocket as he grasped the boy's shaking arms in his hands.

"Respiro," he gasped and a yellow light flew from his wand, settling into Harry's chest. The coughing stopped and his breathing steadied.

"Thanks," he whispered, moving away as Draco let go of him.

"No problem. I saw that one this morning in our Charms book and thought it might come in handy. I'm just glad it worked." Harry looked up at him curiously.

"You know what I don't understand? Why you even care. You said yourself that you hated me." His voice wasn't accusing or sarcastic, just honestly curious. Draco wrapped his arms around himself, looking away, deep in thought. When he did begin to speak it was in a very low, emotionless voice.

"It's my fault you're dying. I guess I feel responsible. I can't just let you die."

"Why not? You've already done so many horrible things to me." Draco looked back at him, grey eyes blazing angrily.

"That's different. That was about detentions and house points. This is life and death. Do you really think I'd take it that far?"

"I don't know. I would have thought so a few days ago."

"You think I'm an inhuman monster." There was no emotion what-so-ever in his voice and he got up and walked away without another word. Harry's denial died on his lips as he watched the boy lying back down on his bed, closing his eyes wearily for sleep.

"Come on, Harry. Let's go back to the common room," Ron said softly, a worried expression on his face. With a deep sigh Harry shook his head, sitting down on the edge of his own bed.

"I can't. I'm not allowed to leave. Hermione, can you do something for me?"

"Of course," Hermione said softly as she came further into the room from the doorway she'd just walked through. "Anything."

"Can you find out everything you can about Soul's Fire? Everything available in the library."

"Don't worry, I already started. Ron and I won't rest until we find a cure. We'll do all we can."

"Thanks you guys." They smiled weakly at him.

"No problem. You just get some rest, all right? You don't look to good," Ron said.

Harry gave him a wry smile. "Sure. You'd better go. I'm really tired all of a sudden." They nodded and left slowly, letting their dying friend get some sleep.

His sleep was far from untroubled. Nightmares filled with blood, death and an unnamable fear haunted him. And when he cried out in fear the other person in the room woke with a start. He looked over and saw the Gryffindor thrashing wildly, his face contorted, sweat plastering his black hair to his forehead. He slipped out of his bed and came over to the sleeping boy.

"Shush," he said calmingly, stroking his brow. "It's all right. There's nothing to be scared of." Harry whimpered, grabbing blindly for his hand. "I'm here, I'll protect you." The words sounded odd in his mouth but they seemed to comfort him.

"Don't leave me," Harry begged quietly, his voice ragged with fear. Draco's heart filled with sympathy and protectiveness for this boy. "Don't let him get me."

"I won't, it's all right." Draco sat down in the chair next to the bed, still holding his hand. Harry soon slipped into untroubled sleep and Draco sat watching his peaceful face for a long time before he too returned to slumber.