The conversation died out pretty quickly, which Draco was thankful for. They had followed Neville to the dungeons, although as a Slytherin he knew his way around them, to try out the potion. The new potions professor was there, which gave a startling reminder that his godfather was no longer around. He consciously knew that Snape had died, yet never returning to the classroom seemed to let him never really face the horrible truth. It was exactly the same, the professor hadn't even rearranged the shelves or desks, which was oddly comforting. The profesor was beautiful woman, who had long brown hair and a hat that sat crooked on her head. She was all smiles, which made Draco fidget uncomfortably. Sincere smiles in abundance always made him uneasy.

After they explained what they were doing in the dungeons she warned, "Be careful and don't hit any of the other cauldrons. The students Amortentia is still in their cauldrons." She said with a knowing smile, which made him have to hold back a sneer. It was the first time he'd seen a potions professor that was anything other than Slytherin, and she wore her Hufflepuff ways with pride.

"Smells like Luna." Neville said, which was a name that Draco hadn't remembered in the longest time. He remembered bullying her—Loony Luna.

"Smells like Angelina." George said with a pathetically "in love" expression on his face. He turned and Draco know what was coming, "Does yours smell like Harry?"

"No," Draco said with a sigh, "I don't smell anything." Draco wished that was true. The smell was identical to the one he'd smelled in Harry's cupboard, and the one he'd smelled when he was healing Harry. The whole room smelled intoxicatingly of Harry, and he almost couldn't think straight.

Their first attempt was pretty much lethal, which was only proven by when even they poured it on a bug, which immediately keeled over and died. "Poor bug." Neville said, which made Draco act out barfing behind his back. Only Neville could mourn a bloody fly.

The second attempt went about as well, as did the third, and the fourth. "Maybe it's because we're using a bug?" George offered, which made Draco say, "Would you rather try it?" The answer was a solid "no", which lead to the continuation of their trials. Some they changed the balance of ingredients, the direction or amount of stirring, and even the heat. But, soon, the flies they stolen from the DADA classroom were all dead.

"We committed fly genocide for nothing." George said, and all of the guys had become sweaty from the steam that flowed off of the boiling potions.

"How's it going boys?" The new potions professor walked in, and Draco now realized her dress under her robes had a slit so far up that he could see her thigh, and her high heels clicked. It was obvious that she knew her own sex appeal because he pushed out her hip and her bosom. If he didn't swing the other way, he'd definitely be enjoying the view. She seemed to be able to tell from their faces. "What're you trying to brew? Maybe I can help."

"Something that won't kill anybody, preferably." Draco said, and his doubt had turned into snark.

"Did you inflict any of the flies before you tried it on them?" She asked and all of their faces drained of all color. "Maybe it is only non-lethal when the person is sick."

"You know, we didn't think of that. I'm also pretty sure we have absolutely no idea what spell or potion we'd use." Neville said and the blond hated how he could admit their faults so easily.

"Hear me out. We give it to Harry and if it works that's great, and if it doesn't then Draco gives him a cure for general poison." George offered, which sounded like a pretty good plan to most of the members.

"No way." Draco interjected, "Nope. Harry isn't a guinea pig, you git. And, what if the cure for poison doesn't help? I'm not killing my...patient." The mere idea made him feel nauseous, like he'd eaten a puking pasty.

"Use the least potent one first." The professor suggested, with a smile, and Draco had never wanted to hex someone as much as he did right then.

***

The gaggle of boys did seem to raise brows through out the hallways of St. Mungo's. A Death Eater, the Chosen One, and a Weasley. Draco had his arms crossed in protest and had his face contorted into a purposefully nasty look, but the other two didn't seem to have any regard for his feelings. When they walked into Harry's room, Draco once again regretted this decision. Not only was George's parents there, they were accompanied by Ron, Hermione, and Oliver. Neville greeted the Weasley parents with hugs and they all were obviously happy to see him, but nearly everyone scowled at Draco. The only person who didn't seem overly upset to see him was Harry, who just seemed confused. "Draco over here," Neville started, and Draco wondered when he got the right to use his first name, "spent all night scouring through his books, spent tons on the ingredients, and then gathered us up to attempt to find a cure for Harry."

"No. All wrong, Longbottom. I happened upon it on accident. Then, I spent a few galleons on ingredients. Finally, I found George. You were George's bright idea." Draco defended, which earned him more scowls from the Weasleys, which made sense considering he just denied purposefully trying to help Harry in any way. "It's my job." Draco added and then peered down at Harry, who looked almost grateful. His heart skipped a beat, and he mentally reprimanded it.

Neville shook his head at Draco, "Take some credit." Neville said, which earned a dirty look. "How do you feel, Harry?"

"Better. As you can see, I'm laying on my back but I still can't move around too much." Harry stated. His hair was a greasy black, and his face was pale enough to blend in with the white room. He'd lost some color since Draco had last seen him, but the black on white still made a beautiful contrast. The juxtaposition was always something that Draco has lacked. He avoided staring, but in quick glances would notice how Oliver caressed Harry's hand, and how Harry peered up expectantly at Draco. His eyes didn't seem as vibrant, they looked tired and the emerald had deepened to a swampier hue. "So, whats the cure, Draco?" Harry asked, which surprised Draco because he thought Neville would be the one to talk. Also, he was ninety-nine percent sure that Harry would still be mad at him.

"You shouldn't take anything from him, Harry. He's—" Mrs Weasley started, but the words seemed to be too daunting to say in front of Draco.

"If you don't, I will kill Draco. He made me spend the whole day in the Hogwart's dungeons." George joked, nudging Draco. The friendly affection seemed to shock and bother Mrs. Weasley. The familial feud still ran strong, even if George was too dense to have the natural instinct to be revolted by Draco.

"That was Longbottom!" Draco hardly reminded and pointed accusingly at the idiot in dirty rags. "Plus, I still think this is moronic. If I kill him, Mrs. Weasley will kill me. I heard about what she did to my aunt." Draco said, with shivers, and Molly looked proud that she had defeated such a troubling witch. "The potions are essentially poison. I could lose my job over this, and I happen to enjoy this job."

"I trust that you won't kill me. And, if you do, I'll haunt you so we'll be even." Harry joked, but the statement was still out there. Since when had he trusted Draco? That last he remembered, they were bickering.

"Fine. Longbottom get out the stupid first potion. I'll go get some antidotes and bezoars." Draco ceded, letting the others know of his frustration by how he turned agitatedly, with his cloak spinning, and made sure to apply extra force on the ground with each step.

Harry couldn't help his eyes trailing Draco when he left. Then, he turned to Oliver, who gave a reassuring smile. "Go to practice. I'll be fine." Harry pushed, and Oliver agreed. Harry knew Oliver was bursting to go but felt guilty. Oliver left, waving to the Weasley family before he went. When Draco returned he had a cart full of bottles and stones, and looked oddly at Harry. "Are you sure you don't want your boyfriend for this? I don't know how you'll react." Draco questioned, but Harry shook his head.

"I want everyone out. If I react negatively, then people will just get in the way anyways." Harry looked towards his guests, who were hesitant to leave but, after some convincing, they left. When they left, Draco had remained extremely quiet, which was uncomfortable. "If it was a dream...I'm sorry. It's just hard. You were the first friend I'd known, then you disappear, and then you return but only because you're forced to."

"I'm not forced. And, I got booted by the Ministry and Weasley's. Hypothetically speaking, I'm not really supposed to be around you right now."

"Oh. I didn't know." Was all Harry answered with, before taking the vial out of Draco's shaking hands and downing it in one go.

"Talk about something for the next few minutes. It'll take a few minutes, and I have to know that it's not affecting your brain, not that you have many brain cells left anyways." Draco jested, earning a small laugh from Harry.

"Um. Wanna hear about how I met Oliver?" Harry asked, and Draco nodded, but his chest felt tight when the player's name was even mentioned.

He went into a spiel about how he'd met Oliver, which made Draco want to leave the room. Then, talked about their dates, which made Draco want to grab the nearest waste basket. Finally, he began about quidditch, which wasn't as unbearable. When he was searching for another story to tell he went quiet, "You have to talk," Draco reminded, and Harry did not respond. Harry grabbed at his stomach, curling himself into a ball, but strong hand pushed him down. His legs moved furiously from the pain, and it felt like the potion was burning holes into his stomach like a cigarette bud on a jacket. A hand held his head down by his forehead, then stuffed a stone into his mouth.

He almost choked on the pebble sized thing, but then it moved down his throat and within a couple of moments the pain began to lessen. It was still there, but each second it lessened. After a few minutes, his eyes finally opened and he saw a petrified Draco. "I don't think that was the right one," Harry jokes, but it didn't seem to cal Draco's nerves, "I'm ready for the next one."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but knew it wasn't really worth it. The next one was more of a violet, which looked less threatening than the previous black potion. He shoved it into Harry's hand, who downed it equally as quickly and barely made a face at the aftertaste. "Do you want to talk more about Oliver?"

"No, I'll talk about how I'm gonna be the best man at Ron's wedding." Harry said, which was surprisingly also less revolting. " I gotta plan a bachelor party for the git, which I'm probably not going to be very good at. I still haven't really seen much of the Wizarding World. I've been cooped up."

"The Ministry is as dumb as when Fudge was in charge." Draco said under his breath, knowing Harry's wouldn't understand what he meant.

"I want to go to—" Harry went silent again, and clutches at his stomach, who made Draco prepare himself for another round. But Harry pointed towards a bun, which Draco swiftly grabbed and placed on Harry's lap, which he then threw up into. Draco gave him another bezoar when he was done, which Harry gladly accepted. Once he regained his ability to talk, he prompted that Draco use the next one. The potions were getting increasingly filled with more of the poisonous ingredients, which made Draco more hesitant. He handed Harry the next vial, and the process repeated. This time he talked about a muggle movie he'd snuck out to see when he lived with the Dursley's. Then, he started what looked like a seizure, and Draco fed him another bezoar. The next time, Harry spoke about how much he didn't like Mrs. Weasley's chickens. Then, he threw up, and Draco could see that the potions were becoming more taxing on his poor body. His lips were a pale pink now, and his movements were slower. Draco then skipped a few vials and gave a greenish one to Harry.