Unmasked Glances

Heavy mid-October clouds poured down over the highlands of Scotland, while Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter hurriedly stumbled down the stairs of Gryffindor Tower, afraid of being late for Professor McGonagall's afternoon class of Transfiguration. None of them were in the mood of a discussion with the old lady they were destined to lose in the first place.

The lesson went as usual and was ended by the gong of a heavy bell somewhere far away. A babble of voices broke loose, while students began to stuff their belongings into bags. "Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, step forward to my desk please" the teacher summoned the boys.

Harry frowned; Ron looked just as puzzled. What had he done this time? Once he had reached her desk, Malfoy was already waiting there. The professor's pointy nose looked over them, patiently waiting for the class to leave. Harry scratched the back of his neck, a talk in privacy couldn't be good.

"Boys" she started. "- Professor Slughorn tells me you still seem to have trouble keeping up with your potions Potter and you Mr. Malfoy, so Professor Snape tells me, are still unable to cast the patronus charm."

Harry's cheeks turned into a slight pinkish tone; he knew his potions weren't exactly considered to be good. Nevertheless, there was no reason to say so in front of Malfoy. Harry looked over to him, his eyes were fixed on the ground.

"That's why the faculty decided it would be best you two help each other out. Mr. Malfoy can brew rather good potions and Mr. Potter can cast an excellent patronus charm. Not only would you profit off each other and improve your grades, but you would also improve the tensions between Slytherin and Gryffindor." Professor McGonagall explained matter of fact.

She must have sensed the students dislike of said idea and promptly added "-if we notice you two don't work together or worse, get more in trouble than before, we start lightly with detention and extra work, if that fails, you will be docked house points, and we could even ban you from Quidditch. Have you understood me?"

Harry swallowed hard. That seemed unfair. He was bad in potions and now could potentially get banned from Quidditch? Was that even allowed?

None of the boys said anything, too far gone in their minds. "I asked have you understood me?" McGonagall said strictly.

The last time she seemed this strict was to talk down Umbridge, Harry assumed. "Yes Professor" he assured.

"Yes Professor" mumbled Malfoy and immediately walked off.

The professor's face softened a bit. "Believe me Potter, it will be better for both of you. The tension between you two, over all these years, now with he who must not be named getting stronger than ever, this nonsense needs to stop."

Harry looked glum and trotted off. What a way to end the school day.

Only when he lay in his bed at night, he was able to process and think about said things. Malfoy really couldn't cast a patronus? It wasn't an easy spell, sure but Malfoy wasn't dumb. How should he even survive one meeting with Malfoy, they would certainly cuss and sooner or later hex each other until one of them wins a visit to Madam Pomfrey, if not worse. Or perhaps Malfoy doesn't show up in the first place. Could Harry get punished if Malfoy didn't show up? It took him quite some time to fall asleep that night, just to wake up to a letter with an appointment scheduled for him and Malfoy by the staff.

Harry had hoped this whole thing was a bad dream, turns out he will be meeting the Slytherin in less than ten hours in one of the study rooms of the north wing.

The Gryffindor tried his best to drag the hours till the meeting, but it was no use. Even History of Magic passed in the blink of an eye.

The meeting with Malfoy was getting closer and closer and there was nothing he could do about it. When it was just before 5 o'clock, Harry started to make his way to classroom 237. He stopped for a moment in front of the rustic door, took a deep breath and vowed not to throw a tantrum today.

Malfoy was already sitting at a table in the centre of the room, glaring angrily at him. The room was not particularly large, and the last rays of this clear autumn day shone in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Harry sat down opposite his classmate, who shrugged dismissively.

"You're late Potter, but it was to be expected," the blond boy snarled. Harry didn't say anything back and would have liked to kick himself for it once he saw Malfoy's sneer in response to his silence. They glared at each other and Harry could see the familiar hatred in Malfoys eyes. The origin of which he couldn't quite fathom.

"So, Potter, what didn't you dim half-blood understand?" Malfoys voice was cold and filled with anger. It was the same anger Harry felt when he thought about the fact that he, of all students and teachers in this school, had to squeeze happy memories out of Draco the Ice Block Malfoy.

"Everything." was his answer to Malfoy's question. Stupid question, stupid answer, Harry thought to himself. He could see Malfoy struggling not to throw a tantrum. "So, you sat in Potions class for six years and didn't understand anything?" His voice was as cold as ice. Harry rolled his eyes at so much stupidity in one sentence. "Of course not," Malfoy raised his eyebrows.

"I've realised some stuff, but I don't understand what time is all about." If Malfoy had fringes, his eyebrows would surely have disappeared underneath them. "What time?" he pressed out. "Why is it so important when something is picked, when it's added...? This time." His voice sounded as cold as Malfoys.

Harry really hadn't understood the time thing, Hermione had tried to explain it to him, but she just quoted the textbooks, which Harry had read himself and didn't get in the first place.

Malfoy looked at Harry as if he were a particularly disgusting specimen of a blast-ended skrewt. He would have loved to put a curse on the Potter heir or tell him something wrong, but Dumbledore had made it clear to him that he had already made too many missteps this year. This was his chance to make up for everything. Malfoy forced himself to answer, after all, Slughorn would check Potters development and if he didn't improve, Draco would be to blame later.

"Have you ever baked a cake?" That was so pathetic, Draco thought to himself. Potter, on the other hand, looked at him through his glasses as if he had gone mad. "Malfoy, I'm here to learn about potions, not baking." Potters voice dripped with sarcasm and Draco clenched his hand around the edge of the table to keep from hitting him.

"Well, Scarface, since you don't understand the basics, I'll have to explain it in a way that even you will understand. So have you ever baked a cake?" If Potter said anything stupid now, he would probably sprout furuncles on his face. But Harry only gave a cold "yes".

"Well, then surely you can tell me why the yeast doesn't go into the dough first, but last?" Harry thought back to when he had to bake cakes for Dudley at the Dursleys', he never got a slice himself. "Because yeast is a leavening agent that makes the dough rise later. If you added it right at the beginning, the dough wouldn't rise in the oven." Malfoy nodded. "Why don't you eat green bananas?" It couldn't be any more degrading, Draco thought.

His counterpart looked at him as if he had lost his mind. He had indeed, after all, they were both sitting here peacefully and he, Draco Lucius Malfoy, was explaining potions to Potter. If someone had told him that last night, he would have laughed at them and possibly had them beaten up. "Because they're not ready yet," Harry finally replied.

"Correct, so when preparing a potion, just like when baking, it is essential that the ingredients are in the condition required, i.e. ripe. Of course, the moon also plays a role here, as it has a special effect on particular plants. And the correct order is also important. The addition is essential. When baking, you don't put all the ingredients in a bowl at once but mix them together. Adding them after a certain amount of time depends on how far the other ingredients have combined by then, possibly releasing other substances."

Draco looked at his counterpart, who had been listening quietly during his lecture. "understood?" He nodded. Harry couldn't comprehend that Draco Malfoy had managed to do in less than fifteen minutes what neither Hermione nor Snape had achieved. He actually understood what Draco was explaining to him and, more importantly, it made sense.

"Where did you learn to bake cakes?" Harry asked him after a short pause. Malfoys answer consisted of a low growl and a look that made him realise that he should either ask the next decent question straight away or squeal and run.

A little later, the two 6th years parted ways and went to their dormitories. The boy with the dark, tousled hair was surprised that Malfoy had stayed quiet most of the time and that none of them were in the hospital wing. He had firmly expected this before the meeting. So tomorrow he would try to help Malfoy with his Patronus. And the day after tomorrow, he would ask first-years questions again, as Malfoy called them. And the day after ... Harry sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.

*

"Hey, Harry!" Someone threw themselves at him and he was abruptly roused from his sleep. Completely confused and half-blind, he could make out Seamus, the laughter must have been somewhere to his left, who was having a great time at Harrys shock. "I thought I'd be your hero of the day and wake you up!" the Irishman bellowed in his ear at a volume that deafened Harry. The next moment, a pillow hit him. "Sorry Harry, that was for Seamus!" He couldn't localise Deans voice for the life of him, but Seamus grabbed the pillow and went on attack. He was finally able to pick up his glasses and plunged back into the world of the sighted.

In the common room, he met Hermione and Ron, whom she had told off. When Mione caught sight of Harry, she paused and quickly scrutinised him from top to bottom. "Harry, what's wrong with you, something's wrong, am I right?" He realised that he had no choice about hiding the matter with Malfoy from them. Harry wasn't sure why he hadn't just told them. Probably because they were arguing all the time, much to his dismay.

The three friends made themselves comfortable in the armchairs and Harry began to talk about his conversation with McGonagall. He then told them about the events of the previous evening. The two listened intently and once Harry fell silent, they didn't quite know what to say. "You weren't arguing?" Ron asked incredulously and Harry nodded. "You understood?" Mione gasped in horror. She couldn't tell if she was happy for him or sad that Malfoy could explain it better. They were quiet for a moment. Each of them hanging in their thought before going to breakfast.

Ron was still looking at him in disbelief, but Lavender quickly distracted him. She greeted her Won Won with a wet good morning kiss. Hermione rose beside him with a shudder. "Let's go Harry!" she hissed at him and grabbed him by the upper arm. He was quickly pulled away from his breakfast, only half a piece of toast having found its way to his mouth.

"How can he possibly be so blind? But he certainly fits in well with that Brown!" Harry didn't interrupt her when Hermione went on about Lavender the rest of the way to transfiguration. Basically, he couldn't really understand how Ron could favour Lavender over Hermione. However, firstly, it was none of his business, secondly, he had enough to do and thirdly, neither of them questioned him about the meetings with Malfoy. They were far too preoccupied with themselves. But that was perfectly all right, after all, Harry was too. He stayed out of it, at best not taking a stance, preferring to drift through the following lessons, sometimes attentive, sometimes completely absent, but the thought of teaching Malfoy a Patronus today was in the back of his mind the whole time.

Harry could now understand what it must have been like for Hermione when he and Ron hadn't spoken to each other during the Triwizard Tournament. He was caught in the middle. Mione refused to talk to Ron any more than necessary, causing him to get miffed and spend even more time on his snogging relationship. Where Harry had once spent his time joking with his two friends, he was now often in the library with Hermione.

Of course, this had a positive effect on his grades, with the exception of Potions, but Harry still didn't enjoy it. And since Hermione, as so often in the afternoons, had fallen into an iron silence, the chiming of the old wall clock came just in time for him. He had arranged to meet Malfoy at eight o'clock. He said goodbye to his friend and marched quickly through the corridors of the castle.

Malfoy was already leaning against the wall on the seventh floor. A classroom wouldn't do them any good, so Harry wanted to go to the Room of Requirement. Malfoy was already familiar with it; he'd tracked them down there about a year ago and told Umbridge. Harry wrestled down the bad memories, nodded to Malfoy and then walked past the wall opposite the tapestry three times. The door that appeared was old and had a worn doorknob.

They exchanged brief glances before the black-haired boy opened the door. The large room had an oval shape. Harry stepped inside and felt an unfamiliar reminder of what had happened in fifth year. However, this shape of the room looked very different to the one he and the other members of the DA had used back then.

The dark wooden parquet floor, the walls lined with bookshelves and candlesticks gave the room a peaceful atmosphere. There were no seats and no cushions that Harry and his friends had used in the past. But they weren't here to chat either, but to fulfil the task at hand.

Harry turned back to the blond Slytherin, who was also examining the room. The Gryffindor didn't know if Malfoy had ever used the room himself. "So, Malfoy, let's see your Patronus." Harry took long strides away from the blond until he had reached the other half of the room. Malfoy had followed him a few steps and was now standing in the centre of the room. He was absently twirling his wand between his long, skinny fingers and his mind seemed to be somewhere else entirely. Harry had also had problems at first, of course, but Professor Lupin quickly dispelled his doubts and helped him to practise his Patronus.

At that moment, Malfoys voice echoed through the air and interrupted Harry's thoughts. "Expecto Patronum!" The blond had the right emphasis, his arm was outstretched throughout and his face showed determination. But still, only a thin, faint fog formed at the tip of his wand. Both boys sighed. The blond lowered his wand and looked at Harry. His face was expressionless.

Harry released the air he had been holding and returned Draco's gaze. "Do you know what a Patronus is supposed to do?" Harry asked to be on the safe side, but the blond seemed to have been waiting to take out his pent-up anger on someone. "Of course, I know what that means! What do you think of me Potter?" The last words spit straight out of his mouth. "With a happy memory, I'll either summon shapeless mist or a shaped Patronus to ward off the attackers and then it dissolves again." Harry nodded thoughtfully, racking his brain for the explanation Lupin had given him. Finally, he said slowly:

"It's more than that Malfoy. Expecto Patronum means 'I await my patron'. The Patronus is a reflection of your positive feelings, such as hope, happiness or love. As it develops from these feelings, it is incapable of feeling fear or despair and is therefore immune to Dementors." He lifted his gaze again, which he had fixed on the wooden panels as he spoke and glanced at Malfoys pale face. Suddenly it seemed to Harry as if the blond was endlessly tired and wasn't really listening to him. But when he blinked, the exhausted expression was gone, and his face was once again the familiar cool mask.

"I know, it's still not working." Draco's voice wavered between disappointment and anger. Whether he was angry with himself or Harry, the black-haired boy didn't know. "What are you thinking about when you try to summon the Patronus?" Harry attempted to ask objectively, but the murderous look in Malfoys eyes showed him that he was failing badly.

"None of your business Potter!" he snarled arrogantly as ever and Harry couldn't understand how a person could change their mood so quickly and seamlessly. "Well Malfoy, try another happy memory then, as this one doesn't seem to be strong enough. And if you can't even summon your patron here under neutral circumstances, you won't be able to do it when you're faced with a dementor."

Draco looked at him grimly, then finally thought for a moment and tried again. This time nothing happened, and Malfoy seemed close to despair. He tried twice more, but nothing changed. No mist or anything else came out of his wand. Now Harry was sure that he wasn't imagining the tiredness on Malfoys face, but that it was actually there.

Draco Malfoy, who usually strutted through the corridors of Hogwarts with his head held high, had given way to a boy Harry didn't recognise. He was pale, the usually gelled strands of hair hanging loosely in his face. His shoulders were slumped and the posture he usually displayed was gone.

He looked - Harry hated himself for not being able to put it any other way - lost. The grey eyes that usually glowed coldly with hatred and superiority were dull and flat. He didn't know where this thought had come from, but Harry's instincts told him not to speak to Malfoy. Usually, he would probably have liked to leave a snide comment, but today he felt pity.

Harry thought back to when he himself had tried to find a happy memory. In his childhood, searching had been futile and even in his school days it had been hard to find one. Now the thought of Sirius gone was torture. Harry staggered backwards until he was leaning against the cold wall and looked back up at Malfoy. The boy was still standing there, terror in his eyes that Harry knew himself when he looked in the mirror, it was the fear of failure.

Harry couldn't stand it here any longer, he pushed himself away from the wall and crossed the room with quick steps. Without saying goodbye to Malfoy, he almost ran back to the tower and burst straight into an argument between Ron and Hermione.

The two stood on opposite sides of the common room, shouting at each other. Rons ears were already red and Hermione's face looked like a tomato. Harry was fed up, however, hurried up the stone staircase and disappeared into the dormitory. There he found silence and the same mess that Harry and the others had left behind this morning. He threw himself onto his bed and drew the curtains.

Malfoy wasn't like him. He was a rotten little ferret who never missed an opportunity to badmouth others. He had betrayed them for more attention. He called Ron and Hermione names. And he himself couldn't count the curses Malfoy had already hurled at him. He was evil. And he would most likely become a Voldemort foot licker just like his father. Draco had absolutely no reason to look so...so lost, abandoned and helpless! He, Harry, had every reason! Malfoy had the sugar blown up his arse after all.

The angry thoughts and accusations would not end, but between all those terrible memories in which Malfoy had made his life hell, there were also those in which he felt unobserved. Where he stood alone and appeared to be on his own. Where fear was reflected in his eyes. But this egoistic bastard had absolutely no reason to be afraid! His parents would protect him! Voldemort would take him in, if only because Draco had the same arse-kissing skills as his father! Harry could feel the hot tears in his eyes, but he refused to shed them for an arsehole like Malfoy!