All's Fair

Chapter Four- Do Snake Tongues Cause Hallucinations?

Harry was eating breakfast in the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione. They appeared to have forgotten the problems of the last few days, and were on as good terms as they could be.

Meaning that Ron and Hermione were as talkative as two people who appear to be attached at the lips can be.

Harry was occupying himself by thinking about Draco.

No, he told himself a moment later. I'm not actually thinking about Draco. No, wait. I'm not actually thinking about Malfoy. I'm thinking about how I can cause D-Malfoy a lot of pain and embarrassment.

Yep yep, that's it. Definitely.

Harry then stared blankly at Ron and Hermione, then at Snape, then at the Hufflepuff first year that had fainted (and who fainted again when she saw him watching) and then at Draco.

Draco stared back, and smiled at him in a very disturbing manner.

Harry then proceeded to try and bang his head on the table.

He missed the table, and instead shoved his head in his plate of food.

As Draco, who had been watching Harry from across the room, began to snigger, Harry stood. Wiping scrambled eggs off his forehead, he glared at Ron and Hermione (who did not notice), Snape (who laughed), the Hufflepuff first year (who fainted again) and Draco (who gave him a little wave).

He then stormed out of the Great Hall, trying to make as much of a scene as possible.

For the second time, nobody noticed.

Well, Draco noticed.

I wonder what Harry would say if I ran after him and offered to lick off the egg- no, wash off the egg.

In a strictly non-licky way.

Just the normal bath way.

Harry in the bath.

No, not Harry. Potter. Potter in the bath.

Yes, I can lick the egg off Potter's face in the bath.

No! No baths, Potter or licking!

A moment later, Draco became the second person to storm out of the Great Hall that morning after their forehead had come into contact with their breakfast.

Harry and Draco were standing in the dungeons, waiting for Snape to put in an appearance.

Instead of having detention with McGonagall, the woman had decided that she did not have time to find a task for them. Apparently, she and Dumbledore had 'business' to discuss... in Madam Puddifoot's.

So the two boys were directed to the dungeons, where they were left to await their potions master's arrival with just each other and some very unpleasant mental images.

Snape swooped into the classroom.

Draco wondered how he managed to swoop so impressively. Maybe there was a charm that he used on his robes.

"Malfoy, Potter. You will be working in the store cupboard, grinding dried snakes' tongues."

"Why the store cupboard, professor?"

"Because it is small, so you are more likely to have accidents, hurt each other, become annoyed and murder each other. There will be jusy enough room for both of you to crouch down there, I believe."

There was silence.

"Here are the pestles and mortars that you will be using. Note the very large, heavy stone pestles. Extremely good objects to hit other people.... like each other, with." Snape paused. "I expect that I have given you ideas."

Draco and Harry were very disturbed by the hopeful expression on their teacher's face.

"I will lock you in there for five hours. You should have finished grinding the tongues in two, giving ample time for you to kill each other in afterwards. Have a good detention."

Snape then Accioed their wands, shoved them into the cupboard, threw in the pestles, mortars and barrels of tongues, then locked the door.

Draco and Harry looked at each other.

"I think," said Harry slowly, "he was sniggling as he left the dungeon."

"Yes," said Draco.

The looked each other concernedly, then got to work.

Nearly two hours later, Draco was realising that Snape's prediction was going to be correct. He was going to have to spend three hours alone with Potter with nothing to do.

Draco looked into the barrels that the tongues had been in. There were about a dozen left at the bottom of the smallest barrel.

Very slowly, he reached in and selected a single tongue. He carefully placed it in the middle of the mortar, then brought the pestle down on it as precisely as possible.

He examined the remains of the tongue.

It was slightly off centre.

Draco used the end of the pestle to nudge the mush back into the centre, and brought the pestle down again.

Noticing that there was now a red mess all over the mortar, he compressed it into a cube with the end of the pestle.

Soon, there was nothing left to do to the tongue. Shaking his head, Draco scraped the mess into the jar that was being used to hold the results of his efforts.

Steeling himself, Draco turned to get another tongue from the barrel.

There were none left.

He looked at Harry to see the boy finish grinding all of the remaining tongues at once, and putting the result in his own jar.

Draco nearly howled with anger.

There was now nothing to distract him. He was going to be locked in a dark, stuffy cupboard for three hours with Harry Potter.

Draco panicked.

Harry looked at the hyperventilating boy concernedly.

"I don't think that Snape wants us to inhale the dried tongues, Malfoy," he said after a moment. "You should hyperventilate in another direction."

Draco's eyes widened. Not only was he hyperventilating, but he was inhaling possibly poisonous substances! What if they made him act strangely? What if he got spots? What if his hair fell out? What if he did something?

He closed his eyes and began to breathe faster and faster, whimpering occasionally.

Something was touching his back, running up and down it slowly. The hallucinations are starting, squeaked Draco's inner voice. If I open my eyes, there could be dancing rabbits taunting me. Dancing rabbits...

I quite like rabbits.

Draco opened his eyes. There were no rabbits. He was mildly disappointed, and closed them again.

But there was still something stroking has back, moving on to his shoulders...

He quickly raised a hand to catch whatever it was that thought that it had the right to touch him.

Draco was a little disconcerted to discover that it was a hand. He grasped it firmly with one of his own, then used the other to follow it to the body of its owner.

Draco was interested to find muscular (but not too muscular) arms. He lingered there for a moment, then carried on to run his hand over a hard torso.

"Malfoy?"

A voice! Who was it?

"What are you doing?"

Draco opened his eyes, and looked into green ones just a few centimetres away from his own. He looked down to see one of his hands resting on Harry's chest, while the other still grasped one of the boy's own.

"Ah, shit."

"Could I ask what exactly you were doing there, Malfoy?"

"Uh, snake tongues. I inhaled them, must have had a strange effect. What were you doing?"

"I thought it would help you relax. Like a massage, or something."

"It gave me a shock."

"It gave you more than just a shock."

Yes, Draco realised with an uncomfortable jolt, it definitely gave me more than just a shock. I need a distraction. Oh, or a horrible thought. Hagrid in drag, Hagrid in drag... Oh thank heavens...

There was a loaded silence.

"Your hand is still on my chest, Malfoy." Draco flushed very slightly and removed it. "And now let go of my hand, please." He complied again.

There was another silence.

"Potter," said Draco, "I think it's your turn to hex me."

"Yes, it is."

"Are you going to do anything?"

"Not now."

"Why?"

"Because," Harry said slightly condescendingly, "I have to spend the next three hours with you. And I don't have my wand."

"Oh. That should have been obvious. Why wasn't it obvious?"

Harry smiled. "Maybe it's the snake tongues talking."

"Yes, that would be it."

There was yet another uncomfortable silence.

"Aren't we going to fight or argue or anything?" asked Draco eventually.

"If you want to."

"Why are you being so agreeable at the moment?"

"I can't be bothered not to be."

"What?"

"You are certainly not yourself this evening," commented Harry. No, thought Draco, I certainly am not. I just attempted to feel you up! I would definitely not be doing that if I was being myself. Absolutely not. "I simply don't want to argue. It seems pointless."

"Arguing is never pointless. It's almost a hobby! Besides, how can we be at war with each other if we don't argue all the time?"

"We just are. That's all there it to it."

"But that would be pointless. Besides," said Draco, voicing the question that had been plaguing him when he remembered to be plagued by it, "how do we win? Are there spoils?"

"You're the Slytherin, working that out should be your job."

"But I don't know!"

"Well that isn't my fault!"

"Why are you being so annoying?"

"Because you told me to be."

"Oh."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Yes. Will you answer the questions now?"

"No."

"I've had enough of this, I'm going to catch up on my beauty sleep. Wake me when Snape gets back."

Harry watched Draco as he wiggled about for a few moments, then appeared to fall straight to sleep.

I think, thought Harry to himself, it's called beauty sleep because everyone looks beautiful when they're asleep.

Then he thought about Ron, and how he looked when he was asleep.

Okay, not everyone looks beautiful asleep. But Draco -no, Malfoy. Oh fine, I can call him Draco in my head- does.

Oh this is getting ridiculous. I'm going to sleep.