I Beg Your Pardon, Potter?

Chapter 5

"Now what?" Harry asked, staring at the wards.

"Now we get to work," Draco said. He pushed past Harry and into the room. Harry shrugged and followed him.

The room was larger than he had expected, with two tables - one to hold their cauldron and one to prepare ingredients - in the center. On the left wall, there was a large sink. There were chairs at the tables and, for some inexplicable reason, a small two person couch against the back wall. Draco had placed his cauldron on one of the tables, so Harry put his ingredient bowl down on the other. They spent the next few minutes ferrying their items from the classroom to their special room while Sir Cadogan happily called them, and anyone else who walked by, scurvy curs.

"We're going to have to change that password," Harry said. He put down the last of his potions equipment down on the table.

"Why? Because everyone knows what it is? Potter, no one can get in aside from us."

"No, it's starting to drive me mad. If he calls me that one more time..." He took a step menacingly towards the inside of the portrait, raising a fist. Draco put out a hand to stop him.

"Yes," he said. "We get it. The knight is an annoying prick. Now can we get on with our work? I don't want to have to stay here through lunch." Harry nodded and let his arm drop to his side. He turned back to their prep table and began shredding some dried bat wings, which were the next ingredient to be added.

While he worked, he watched Draco go about setting up their cauldron. The blond seemed to shut out everything around him as he measured out six liters of water. Harry watched as Draco unconsciously bit his lip while fiddled with the magical flame under the cauldron, watched as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear before re-measuring the onions, and watched as his brow furrowed in concentration while he weighed the rose petals.

"Those bat wings look good, Potter," Draco said. Harry gave a start and put his knife down. He had finished shredding the wings without really noticing. "It seems you can follow instructions."

Harry rolled his eyes but did not rise to the bait. Instead he put the wings into a bowl and began to prepare the rosemary, pulling off the little leaves one by one.

"Give me that," Draco said, reaching over and pulling the rosemary out of Harry's hands. He deftly stripped the stems and dropped the leaves onto the table. He quickly minced them.

"Show off," Harry muttered.

"Just well practiced," Draco retorted. "Ready to add things to the cauldron? We have to do it together-"

"-Whilst holding hands and thinking good thoughts, I know."

"Precisely. And then afterwards we can sit around and braid each other's hair and make daisy chains!" Draco cupped his face with his hands and fluttered his eyelashes sarcastically at the ceiling. Harry snorted with laughter. Draco on his own, away from other people, was actually rather fun to be around. He wondered if this was how Draco acted around his Slytherin friends and not for the first time he tried to imagine how things might have gone if he had accepted the blond's friendship back at the start of their First Year.

"Right," Harry said. "Give me your hand." He swallowed nervously and held out his arm. Draco grasped his hand firmly and they both picked up bowls of onion with their free hands.

"Think happy thoughts, Potter," Draco said. Harry thought back to the previous evening and imagined Draco nibbling his lip again. "Three, two, one." They tipped the onions into the now bubbling cauldron. Gold sparks shot up from the surface of the potion and Draco blinked in surprise. "Merlin, Harry. What were you thinking about?"