Detention
“Mr Malfoy.” Snape nodded curtly to the blonde boy standing in Snape’s small dingy dim office.
“Mr Potter, late as per usual.” He fixed Harry with a disgusted gaze as the brunette rushed into place beside Draco.
Harry coughed awkwardly. “Sorry sir, I was caught up with -” Harry racked his brain for a good excuse but all possible ideas fell flat with Snape staring at him in such an intimidating way.
Snape smirked deviously, “Ah, I see. Too caught up in making bad choices I assume Potter.”
Draco snickered and Harry side eyed him hard, trying to mentally inflict the blonde with as much pain as possible. Snape paid the two boys and their little mind games no attention, going back to his lecture.
“At least you both delinquents didn’t decide to skip.” He punctuated the p on the end in a slow drag, black eyes boring into both boys, giving them a subtle threat of what would happen if they ever did decide to skip one of Snape’s detentions.
Harry wondered briefly if a teacher was even allowed to call his students delinquents, but the teacher in question being Snape, Harry decided there was no point wondering because Snape could get away with anything if he truly tried.
“So sir, what will we be doing in this detention?” Draco spoke up, startling Harry. Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen Draco confront the grotesque Professor once in his life, and now here he was, asking questions with a slight annoyance in his tone with no hesitation.
Snape narrowed his beady eyes, “I never thought you’d ask.”
Harry shuddered. Blimey that Professor could make shivers run down Harry’s spine with just a sentence. He had to have been a murderer in his past life.
“You two will pay for your rude interruption to my class and failure to show exemplary teamwork by cleaning the Second Year Potions Classroom.”
Both boys groaned in unison.
“But sir those are disgusting-”
“I swear no one has ever cleaned them before-”
“They haven’t been touched in decades-”
“That’s totally unfair-”
Snape held up his hand sternly, silencing the complaints from the 6th year boys in an instant. “I wasn’t finished.” He glowered. “You will be cleaning the second year potions classroom - which is not up for debate by the way, failure to clean the classroom will result in house points docked and detention for the rest of the semester.”
Harry suppressed the urge to cross his arms and roll his eyes at the greasy rat-man.
“-With Filch.”
“What?” Draco exclaimed, voicing Harry’s inner thoughts. “Why Filch?”
Snape frowned at Draco’s outburst. “Because he was available to supervise tonight and because I have assigned that. Why do you ask Malfoy?” He slyly inquired, pinning Draco in place with his piercing stare.
Malfoy met his hard gaze and forced a strained smile which (in Harry’s opinion) resembled more of a smirk than an actual smile. “I just thought you would supervise us, Professor.”
“Hmm.” Harry could tell that Snape wasn’t convinced by Draco’s excuse and Harry mildly feared what the Professor would do. “Well I am busy tonight, but I could arrange another time if two would like to clean another classroom with my supervision.”
Godammit! Fuck Draco Malfoy to the moon and beyond. That bitch better watch his back because Harry for sure was not letting this slide. Honestly. He was signing Harry up for more detentions now? What the hell?
“Uh. Thankyou sir but I think we are alright.” Harry cut in, glaring daggers at the blonde.
“Yeah.” Malfoy agreed quietly.
Snape opened his mouth to reply in a (most likely) snarky way when the creaky enchanted office door was pushed open harshly.
A disgustedly familiar face with a wicked grin and an unmistakable cat stepped through the doorway in an uncoordinated fashion.
“Ah Filch, glad you could join us.” Snape snarled, obviously not happy about the interruption.
“Happy to be here Professor.” He grinned through rotted teeth and stroked Mrs Norris while fixing Harry and Draco with evil glares. “These the boys that are cleaning?”
Snape nodded and gestured for the boys to stand and follow Filch out of the suffocatingly small office. “Make sure they get every last inch.” He spat, smirking.
Down staircases Harry and Draco went, curving through arched doorways and spider web infested storage rooms until they finally made it to the potions classroom sector of the Slytherin house.
The Squib led them down a barely visible path, faded with years of unuse and covered by blooming greenery, sprouting up from the sides and covering the entire floor. This journey felt all too familiar to the one that Harry did in second year himself, when he was mindlessly walking in circles following a hissing voice in the walls and unknowingly trying to seek out the Chamber of Secrets.
Harry shivered. This was nothing like the chamber of Secrets, this was just an abandoned classroom he had to clean for an insignificant detention. He was just paranoid, he told himself.
Filch pulled a key from his belt and carefully twisted it in the keyhole of an old and rusty door. The door swung open to reveal a nauseatingly trashed classroom. The infamous ‘Second Year Potions Room’ it was titled. Although the classroom technically hadn’t been used in over a decade since the incident that provoked Dumbledore into closing it off from the school, its glory remained strong.
The room was an old classroom, one that had been standing since the first creation of Hogwarts when the four famous wizards and pillars of Hogwarts had formed the foundation for a school for magic to be taught. The room had aspects that Salazar Slytherin himself had designed it with and to the two boys whose classrooms were moderately up to date with the fastly growing magical technology, the layout of it was slightly peculiar.
Desks were round and situated oddly around the room, only leaving a slight gap to walk through (it was quite awkward when Harry and Draco had both tried to walk through the gap and accidentally bumped hips). There were no chairs at all and Harry wasn’t sure if that was a decor choice or if the chairs had been repurposed and put into other classrooms when this one was shut down, but either way it made the room look wildly bare.
On each desk sat a cauldron and a stand for you to place your instructional recipe on. The room had a small storage cabinet at the back and shelves upon shelves of dangerous potions that had most likely been confiscated from trouble-making students. There was dark magic circulating this room with all of the brews sitting idly on shelves and it was all very old-timely, with dust coating every surface and slates positioned like textbooks in a pile up the front of the classroom.
This room was very intriguing and Harry felt like he could physically smell the essence of the ones who came before him, as if part of their souls never really left the room, always there, haunting.
Harry guessed that his hypothesis probably wasn’t too far off from the real thing, after all this classroom was famous for the disappearance of three second year wizards, who was to say their ghosts weren’t here right now, hiding?
A sour taste rose in the back of Harry’s throat and by the look of his partner's appearance, Draco seemed to be thinking something similar or just as frightening as Harry was.
Filch kicked the back of Harry’s shin, pushing him roughly stumbling into the room.
“Don’t stand there and stare.” He spat, shoving Draco in through the doorway with equal force.
Harry struggled to find his footing and while disoriented just managed to avoid falling flat on his face.
Filch gently guided down Mrs Norris and ushered her into the room. The speckled cat meowed in protest but reluctantly trotted through the door to fix the two boys with a menacing glare.
“Alright boys. Spick and span.” Filch grinned again through the repulsive gaps in his teeth and swiftly (or as swiftly as a 50yr old man with a bad leg and no sense of coordination) turned on his heel. “And don’t even think about using magic.”
The door shut with a massive thud and uneven footsteps could be heard retreating from the room until they faded off into the distance.
“What the fuck?” Harry said in his absence. “He just dropped us like that?”
Draco, who had been just as disoriented seconds ago now turned to smirk at the brunette. “Fuck’d you expect Potter? For him to stick around and babysit you?”
Harry rolled his eyes with dismay. “I expected some sort of instructions or something at least.”
Draco tilted his head in mock confusion. “Why’d you need instructions, it's pretty clear what we have to do, Potter. Are you that bloody stupid?”
Harry internally sighed. Malfoy was such a prick today.
“Well I figured what we had to do.” Harry chuckled sourly. “But how the hell do we do it?”
Draco scowled harshly and pulled out his wand from a side pocket in his viridian robes.
“How do you think?”
Harry was almost at his limit when it came to fucks he gave about this bloody detention. Was Draco that dimwitted that he thought they would be able to just pull out their wands and walk away from the classroom in one piece. Filch, and Snape for that matter, would have their heads.
“No magic dickhead.”
“The idiot’s not in the room so how would he know what we do?” Malfoy asked rhetorically, daring Harry to dignify him with an answer.
Harry raised his eyebrows suggestively and smirked. “That could have many different meanings, Malfoy.”
Draco looked at the brunette, confusion and annoyance written on his face until it suddenly dawned on him. “Gross Potter, get your head out of the gutter.” He stammered, put off by Harry’s statement.
Harry laughed, amused by Draco’s embarrassment. The sound was bright and warm, filling the classroom and vanishing some of the awkward or tense air hanging between the two.
“Hey, you’re the one that said it, not me.”
“Yes, but it was a perfectly sensible question until you implied another meaning.” Draco quipped. “So technically, you are the one that insinuated it.”
Harry laughed once more. “Oh sure, sure Malfoy.”
Malfoy looked at him with twisted emotions of annoyance and slight disgust. “You repulse me Potter. I was talking about the detention that we have been assigned to do together, I don’t know what is wrong with your perverted mind.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh please, you sure you weren’t talking about my-”
Draco coughed loudly before Harry could finish his sentence. “God you are so full of yourself, go and find the cleaning supplies idiot.”
Harry smiled genuinely, trotting off to the nearby storage closet blissfully as he recalled Malfoy’s stupid expression when the implication of Harry’s words set in. Harry was unbelievably happy he had found something that made Draco squirm, seeing the uptight boy uncomfortable would always be something that brought a smile to Harry’s lips, maybe he ought to make little comments like that more often. Just to push Draco’s buttons of course, no other reason.
Harry pulled out a long broom and a dusty spray bottle from the cleaning supplies corner of the storage closet.
“Uh, Malfoy.” He called. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get much cleaning done with these.”
Draco voiced his protests about Harry’s cleaning abilities loudly before venturing over to look at the supplies (or lack of supplies) in the cupboard.
“Goddammit.” The blonde reached up and tugged at his hair in frustration, messing up the gelled top. “What does he expect us to do with these?”
The storage cupboard was depressingly empty, a few old and damaged supplies in the corner and one rusty mop and broom was all the utilities they had. It was not surprising that the closet would be bare, seems how it was at a school full of witches and wizards that used magic freely and this classroom hadn’t been restocked for almost 15 years since the ‘incident’.
“I still vote we use magic.” Draco shrugged, waving his wand for emphasis and turning away from the cupboard.
“No magic.” Harry said sternly. “Did you hear the bastard? Filch doesn’t make empty threats Malfoy, I thought you knew this.”
“Fuck Filch. It’s absolutely impossible for us to get this done with those.” He gestured vaguely at the cupboard. “This room is messier than Weasley’s locker.”
Harry stifled a giggle. Although the comment was insulting, Harry could agree that Draco wasn’t wrong in his observation, Ron’s locker was a bloody mess but this by far topped it.
When Harry had first walked in the room he had noticed the thick layer of dust and dirt covering every surface and the cobwebs hanging from every available surface. What he had failed to see was just how disgusting this room really was. The tables were covered in layers upon layers of dust but underneath that lay years upon years of ruined ingredients, smudged and seeping into the porcelain countertop.
There were mysterious stains on the walls, floor, tables, chalkboards, and any other visible surface, making the room look very unwelcoming.
The shelves of potions were so covered in grit that it would be a miracle if anyone could read the actual title of the potions.
The room was one of the messiest rooms in Hogwarts, with it being abandoned for over a decade and not a single soul daring to try and clean the residue of what was recalled as a crime scene.
There was obviously nothing gruesome around the room, the deaths of the children were a mystery to even the most intelligent Professors. No, it wasn’t really a crime scene clean up if Harry was honest, it just had a weird and creepy vibe about it.
Harry drew his attention away from the room and turned back to the task at hand. Cleaning.
“Let’s start with the desks.” He decided, pulling out a cloth and tossing a broom from the cabinet to Draco. “I’ll wipe, you sweep.”
Draco stared at Harry with uncertainty.
“You have swept before, right?” Harry asked, amused.
“Not with a muggle broom.” Draco retorted frustratedly. “How the hell would I have access to a muggle broom, let alone have the time to actually use it?”
Harry chuckled lightly. “Oh Malfoy, have we finally found something you can’t do?”
All those years Harry had spent slaving away at vigorous chores just to earn his dinner with the Dursleys had at least come in handy for something. Harry knew his way around cleaning the muggle way just fine, and he’d be damned if he didn’t hold it over Malfoy’s head.
“C’mon Malfoy, get to it, this place won’t tidy itself.” He smirked, watching the blonde struggle to even hold the handle correctly.
“Piss off Potter.” Draco scowled. “Quit acting all high and mighty and just show me how to do it.”
Harry raised his eyebrows. “No, I think I’m fine right here. You carry on.”
Draco threw the broom towards Harry with a dramatic fling of his arms. “Fucking hell Harry, I presume you want to get out of here sometime before midnight, so for Merlin’s sake help me.”
Harry snatched the broom from the air with a grin and started demonstrating the different sweeping techniques. “You need to hold the handle so the brush part of it can glide across the floor. Got that Malfoy?”
Draco glared at him, muttering “And you say I’m condescending,” under his breath.
Harry rolled his eyes at the dramatic wizard's antics as he chucked the broom back into Draco’s outstretched arms.
A peaceful rhythm fell in place as Draco figured out how to get the broom to move in sync with himself and Harry wiped down the desks as best he could. Scrubbing grime and grit off of desks that had not even been dusted in years was a tedious task and by the time Harry had managed to get not even half of the dirt off he was sweating profusely.
He looked over to see how his unskilled partner was going and barely managed to swallow a sigh.
“Malfoy, are you sweeping the dirt into a pile?”
Draco knitted his brows together and gave Harry a look as if to ask if he was stupid. “Why would I make a pile of dirt?” He questioned. “I thought we were getting rid of the dirt, Potter. What’s a pile going to do?”
This time Harry really did sigh. “Merlin Draco, I really overestimated you this time didn’t I?”
“Not all of us were brought up in muggle households, you prick.” Draco retaliated, with a bit more bite than he intended.
“Well that’s pretty bloody obvious.” Harry snapped back, “From your unnecessary hate for the species as well as your pretentious family line and obtrusive behaviour it wasn’t exactly a secret.”
Draco’s brows furrowed further and his jaw clenched tightly.
“Stop calling me fucking pretentious.” He yelled, his gaze not even quivering in the slightest. “You are such a hypocrite Potter.”
Harry was about to roll his eyes with a huff and move on when he caught the blonde boy mutter under his breath with an acidic laugh.
“Merlin, and you say that I am unobservant because of my ego.”
Harry set the cloth down on the bench with a bit more force than necessary and crossed his arms defiantly.
“Shut up Malfoy, don’t try to insult me just because you can’t admit to yourself that there is a slight possibility you don’t excel in something.” He huffed, prodding the blonde boy with his words.
Malfoy took a step back from Harry as if the impact of his words had physically attacked him.
Guess I hit the nail on the head. Harry thought, trying to produce some sort of remorse for his actions but coming up empty. Draco had it coming honestly.
“Whatever.” He muttered sourly, avoiding the brunette's gaze. “I’ll figure it out on my own.”
“Whatever.” Harry replied, shaking his head internally at Draco’s bullshit.
An awkward silence fell over the pair as Draco, fuelled by pure spite, started arranging his dirt angrily into a circular pile.
After many more excruciating minutes of Harry watching the train wreck that was Draco Malfoy attempting to sweep with a muggle broom, he decided to step in. He had the sneaking feeling that the blonde was too wound up and any longer of this would end up in a disastrous explosion with collateral damage.
“Give it here.” He sighed, reaching for the tool resignedly.
Draco yanked the broom out of the Gryffindor’s reach and Harry had to take a moment to calm himself before he let his temper run away from him and ended up slapping the boy.
“Draco.” He called softly. “Here, I’ll show you.”
The Slytherin ignored the calls of Harry and continued to dust the hallways vigorously.
Harry quickly manoeuvred himself so that he was right in front of the blonde boy and outstretched his tan hands to grasp the edge of the wooden handle that Draco was clasping.
Draco nudged his hand away and scooted off to the edge of the room to create some space between them, but Harry wasn’t going to give up that easily.
He quickly glided across the floor towards the grumpy Slytherin and positioned himself so that Draco was completely cornered with no escape. Harry once more reached out to grab the broom and started gently easing Draco’s hand to follow his own movements that got the broom to flow in a melodic way.
“Like that.” He whispered softly, guiding the wooden tool with such grace.
Draco frowned and snatched the tool back swiftly, ducking underneath the brunette’s arm to make his escape.
“Fuck off you twat, I had it handled.” He huffed.
“Yeah right Malfoy, okay.” Harry said sarcastically, an amused twinkle shining in his emerald eyes.
“I did.” Malfoy protested. “You didn’t have to step in like that.”
“Okay.” Harry replied in a sing-song voice, still not believing the blonde in the slightest.
Malfoy “Well you didn’t have to. Just because you are such a fucking muggle lover doesn’t mean you know more than me.”
Harry frowned. “Who said I am a muggle lover?” Harry accused, thinking back to his traumatic childhood with the Dursleys. The amounts of starving, abuse, body shaming, mocking and cruel teasing from his very own cousin muggles was not something that Harry was sure amounted to being a ‘muggle lover’. Harry in fact had a deep hatred for all of his muggle family and he was quite angry that Draco was throwing out assumptions about himself so casually.
“You don’t know shit, Malfoy.”
“I mean look at who you hang out with…” Draco sneered, alluding to Harry’s best and dearest friend Hermione.
Harry clenched his jaw. “That was a low blow Malfoy.” He hissed.
Draco turned away in (what Harry hoped was) shame but could’ve easily been to stifle a laugh or hide a smirk.
“Sorry.” Draco muttered quietly after several minutes of silence.
The apology surprised Harry, he didn’t think that Draco was mature enough to recognise and admit when he had gone too far but Harry guessed he really had changed in his morals throughout the years.
“Yeah whatever.” Harry mumbled. “I don’t care if you hate me or my friends but whatever the fuck your twisted family told you is not true. Hermione is no less than you or any other pure bloods because of where she came from.” He said with slightly more conviction.
Draco just nodded and focussed his gaze solely on the broom in front of him, making wide swooshing movements against the grimy floor.
The room was quiet apart from the soft noise of old bristles gliding across smooth concrete as the two boys did their respective tasks without banter.
“What’s up with you anyway?” Harry asked when he couldn’t take the silence any longer. “You’re not usually so…”
“So what?” The blonde demanded. “Finish that sentence Potter.”
“I don’t know.” Harry spluttered, feeling awfully like he had said the wrong thing but being too committed to finding out what Malfoy’s deal was to backtrack now. “You just seem weird today.”
A tense air hung between them and Harry couldn’t help but wonder if it was the end of the study session yesterday that prompted Draco’s odd behaviour. It had been an awkward end to a stressful session with the sunset and Draco’s surprising lack of emotionless behaviour. He hoped Draco would have forgotten about that though.
“Fuck’s it to you?” The Slytherin asked, dragging his broom in satisfying circles across the filthy concrete.
“I couldn’t care less to be honest.” Harry admitted, flicking a particularly large speck of dirt onto the floor, creating more work for Draco. “But I would assume we have hours of this shit left and I don’t want to die of boredom as well as muscle exhaustion.”
Draco pondered Harry’s reasoning for a second, letting his brush fall still. Eventually he shrugged and absentmindedly went back to his chore.
“Whatever Potter. I’ll entertain you with my little story so I also don’t end up in an unheroic death but,” He poised. “One word of this to anyone and rest assured I will cut out your tongue.”
Harry gulped animatedly. Merlin that boy was scary when he wanted to be.
“Yeah okay, got the message loud and clear.”
There was a break in the conversation as Draco mustered up enough courage to admit something that had really been bothering him to his arch nemesis. Eventually the blonde boy just sighed and blurted it out, hoping dearly Harry was mature enough to see that this was something that was very personal and not some petty drama.
“I have to attend this fucking tutor session to appease my father next week.” He announced in a rush.
Harry was in fact not mature enough. He could barely contain his laughter.
“Seriously?” He wheezed, “You are being the most prickest of all the pricks because your daddy is making you do something that could actually be good for you?”
“It’s not like that.” Draco protested, crossing his arms over his chest protectively. “God forget it.”
“No, no, now I want to know.” Harry continued, trying to reign in his laughter. “Enlighten me, how is it ‘not like that’?”
Draco looked at him with guarded scepticism but opened his mouth and gave him an answer anyway.
“Well for starters, I do these things all the time so I think I would have a pretty clear concept of what is and isn’t good for me and trust me Potter this is not something my father arranged from the bottom of his heart.”
Harry, now recovered from his laughing fit, leaned forward, and the small gesture subconsciously urged Draco to go on.
“And secondly, it is not a good event in general. It’s a bunch of spoiled kids trying to up their status by demonstrating how devoted to ‘helping others’ they are. It’s all bullshit and the only reason I’m stuck doing it is because my father heard about my mishap in class which was entirely your fault Potter.” He finished, glaring at the boy.
“So don’t go.” Harry stated simply, expression so open and lacking even the smallest twinge of sarcasm or mocking.
Draco stared at the brunette boy with disbelief and broke into laughter. A cold and humourless thing his laugh was.
“Please Potter, you try saying no to my father and then tell me that again.”
“Okay.” Harry shrugged. “So I’ll go.”
Draco's eyes widened even more and his laughs progressed into full body shakes.
“Are you delusional Harry? What drugs did that Lovegood girl inject in you this time?”
Harry tried to brush off the Luna comment and keep his cool, even though it boiled his blood to his core. Luna would never ‘inject drugs’ into Harry, Harry was a consenting person with freewill. Luna Lovegood was an angel from heaven and she would never in a million years force anyone under any circumstances to take anything she might be taking. And anyways it wasn’t as if the white haired girl was doing hard crack, she took garden herbs at most.
Harry glared at Draco but the Gryffindor was at least mature enough to realise that an argument about this would be pointless, it was a meaningless jab from his snake eyed partner attempting to get under Harry’s skin.
“I’ll go in your place.” Harry deadpanned. “I assume it pays if it is a tutoring thing, so I would obviously keep the profits but other than that you haven’t lost anything.”
“And why would you want to go to this Potter?” The blonde scoffed. “How does it benefit you?”
“Money and a fun experience.” He stated simply. “Oh and also the knowledge that you would forever be in debt of one favour for me.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “No way in a million years, and even if I agreed it would be impossible anyways. There would be no way you could act like me for two hours straight.”
Harry now titled his head and scoffed at that.
“Please Malfoy. Anyone can act entitled and have a bad attitude for two hours, that is nothing.”
“Oh fuck off.”
Harry bit back a laugh at Malfoy’s sour and slightly flushed expression, instead choosing to attempt a civil conversation. “No, no but seriously Malfoy, it is a pretty solid plan. You don’t want to go to the tutoring session, I need to make some cash, and with a Polyjuice potion it is honestly such a simple solution.”
Draco squawked in bewilderment. “Potter, I think you’ve actually cracked it this time.” He tangled his fingers in white blonde hair and pulled at his scalp in disbelief. “You are officially insane.”
Harry crossed his arms in annoyance. “I’m trying to help you dickhead, will you just hear me out?”
“Sure you are Harry.” Draco chuckled. “Don’t think that I don’t know your real motivations.” He prodded, dancing lightly around the room, finding small spots on the floor to polish with his broom.
“What ‘real motivations’?” Harry questioned frustratedly. “It’s a favour for a favour, dickhead. I do this for you and it counts as my apology for blowing up the cauldron which is the reason you have to go to the tutoring session anyways-” Draco rolled his eyes but didn’t interrupt or laugh at Harry any further. “-And by default you owe me a favour.”
“You’re crazy Potter, I swear to god.”
Harry just smiled briefly at this. “Well the option is there Malfoy, but if you would rather go to the tutoring session yourself…” He trailed off.
Draco was stuck, he realised. Neither option was good but it was hard to tell which one was truly worse.
“Mm. You do realise if you fuck this up I will make your life hell Harry Potter. My father counts on me being there and having impeccable manners. If you were -and it is a very small possibility- to go in my place I would lay down very strict rules about the whole ordeal.”
Draco informed sternly.
“Of course.” Harry nodded with a bemused smile. “You are Draco Malfoy after all, I am not daft.”
Draco ignored him. “And how would we even make a Polyjuice potion? They take like a month to make and we only have a week.” He inquired, ever the voice of logic.
Harry frowned at this, cogs turning in his mind as he ran through many different possibilities on how to get a quick and accurate Polyjuice potion that would run for two hours.
“All the ingredients are probably here.” Harry declared. “This classroom has some pretty dangerous shit in it.”
Draco drew his gaze to the long lines of potions shelved on every available surface around the room. Most had chains or signs around them with CONFISCATED written in bold letters sitting above them. Jars and other assorted little glass containers of Merlin knows what were spaced evenly across the windowsill and cupboard tops, with scrawny handwritten labels that were damaged and peeling off. Deep reds and bittersweet yellows hid beneath coats of spider webs and dust, the vibrant colours barely noticeable amongst the dull shelves. It would be a hard task trying to find and identify the correct ingredients for a Polyjuice potion, but the ingredients needed would for sure be found somewhere in this room.
Harry stood up from the desk he had been working on and briskly made his way over to the back corner of the room where the storage cabinet sat.
He pushed open the rickety door that had been left slightly ajar from the last time Harry had visited it to get the cleaning supplies, and picked up and a small and quite unnoticeable vial to inspect. Harry curled the cool glass in the palm of his hand, brushing away some of the residue dust still left on it. Draco peered in closer as the brunette held up the vial to catch some of the dim light circulating the room and caught a glimpse of golden flecks swimming in a thick royal blue mixture.
“It’s gorgeous.” He breathed. “But what exactly is it?”
Harry popped open the lid with a satisfying hiss. “Not sure, there are labels on these things are hardly readable.”
“Hmm.” Draco hummed. “We need to do research before we just start grabbing random mixtures and opening them. You have no idea what the hell could be in them.”
Harry scrunched up his face in annoyance, lowering the bottle slightly so he could smell the contents. “We’ll be fine Malfoy, calm down.”
Draco just shook his head. “Whatever Potter, just don’t die from dangerous potions that have been locked up in an abandoned classroom for 15 years.”
Harry turned to the blonde and placed his hands on his chest, right above where the placement for the heart on a human typically is. “Aww, Draco you don’t want me to die, how caring.”
“It's not caring asshole, I’m saving you from a humiliating and awfully inconvenient death.”
“Inconvenient?” Harry questioned. “How would my death be inconvenient here? I feel like this is the perfect place to die, in a haunted classroom with my long winded rival by my side.”
“It would be inconvenient for me.” He insisted. “Having to clean up your blood and guts would totally dampen the rest of my day.”
Harry rolled his eyes with a small smile resting at the corner of his lips. “Oh right. I’m so sorry my hypothetical death is inconvenient for you, Malfoy.”
The blonde looked like was fighting a smile himself and a part of Harry warmed at the thought that he could make Malfoy smile. It was a wondrous thing - Harry had learned just recently that there was so much more emotion and depth to Draco then he had ever truly realised.
Harry always felt weird whenever he discovered another hidden layer to the prickly blonde boy, it was an uneasy feeling that Harry could never quite place. Like a feeling of impending doom, like the more Harry got to know the Slytherin, the more that things were going to get fucked up. But Harry didn’t really have a reason to feel like that. He didn’t especially hate Draco anymore and he could realise that the Slytherin wasn’t the same stuck up privileged pure blood as he was in first year and didn’t hold the same values as his family now. So why did Draco make him so uneasy?
It was unfair of Harry to be paranoid or to toss blame around just because he had a bad feeling, and after years of enduring twisted abuse from the people that were supposed to be his family, it was easy to see why Harry was naturally cautious of people.
It just felt weird with Draco, and Harry couldn’t quite name the feeling. But now he had agreed to pretend to be Draco for two hours, he hoped he could get some insider information as to what the sneaky blonde was really like. He briefly thought that he might be taking Luna’s advice a bit too far but it had worked, hadn’t it? Draco had more or less agreed and Harry was looking forward to one hell of an experience.