To Dance

Chapter 7: To Confuse

"Potter."

Harry gulped. Snape was looming over him like a great overgrown bat, scowling.

"Do you think," he said, his voice slipping as if it too was covered in grease along with the rest of him. "That because you are the fabulous Hogwarts Champion Who Lived Little Boy Wonder that you have the right to come to class late?"

Harry mimed a fish out of water in response. Snape sneered at him.

"In that case, ten points from Gryffindor," a few of the students gasped and Ron let out a protesting sound much like an angered bird. "And you'll need a partner for the lab. Hmmm. Let's see." The Potions Master glanced around the room, smirking. "Ah yes, Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps you might feel kind enough to help Potter with his obvious superiority complex and lack of potions skills."

Malfoy glanced up from his desk, met Harry's eyes briefly, smirked, and looked back down to his Potions Book.

"Well, as long as Mr. Malfoy is willing to cooperate, I think that you might try to take after his example, Potter," Snape muttered.

Harry would have liked to throw a wet sponge at Snape, whether in anger or curiosity to see if the slimy man would run away from hygene, he didn't know. However, he held his tongue and hung his head as he walked over to the desk currently occupied by Malfoy. Without saying a word, Harry dropped his bag to the floor and flumped down into the seat next to Malfoy, a prominent scowl on his features.

Mafloy continued to pour over his potions text and paid Harry no notice. Still glowering, Harry looked up at the board to read what potion they would be concocting. "'Self Truth Serum'," he read aloud quietly, still scanning the board. Malfoy turned a page next to him and murmured, "It reveals to the drinker who their true self is and what they truly feel. It can also identify who one is most attracted to, but that is only in rare cases and has only been recorded three times. Once by Alfred the Adulterer, once by Gradnost the Insane, and once by Tristan Carr, who committed suicide an hour later upon finding that his true love had died seven years prior in a freak ox cart accident."

Harry stared at him for a moment before leaning over slightly and whispering harshly, "First you don't attack me and act weird and now you are turning into Hermione. Honestly, who beat you with the happy stick of fun and games or is this just some monthly phase I don't know about?"

Malfoy's eye drifted to the next page and he began to play with a strand of hair with his pale fingers. "Firstly, you were sitting on me," he replied, still not looking at Harry. "Also, would you rather I attack you? I can do so if you really want." He grinned and Harry glowered. "You're the one who started all this hostility. After all, as far as I know you, you are just the boy who rejected my kind offer of friendship in first year."

"I wouldn't call that kind," snapped Harry, staring at Malfoy in disbelief. "I would say more of snide and superior."

"Everyone's stupid when they're eleven. I was no exception. Neither were you for that matter." Malfoy glanced briefly at Harry, but Harry was now glaring at the desk and picking away at the wood with his fingers and didn't notice. "That's just the reality."

"What up with you and reality anyway?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"It what we live in, obviously," Malfoy said curtly. "And to answer your third point, I have always been a good student. You were just too busy seeing me as a prat to notice I actually try in my classes." He glaced at Harry again and cracked a smirk. "But then again, I could have always been beaten with the happy stick of fun and games and not know about it." He grinned at Harry again.

Harry stared at him for a moment before realizing what he was doing and quickly recovering and sitting back in his chair and crossed his arms, looking darkly at the desk as if it had given him the scar currently on his forehead.

Malfoy leaned towards him slightly. "You know we are supposed to be working together."

Harry glared at the desk harder, trying to resist the urge to pick up the piece of furniture and beat the pale boy next to him with it. To distract himself from the urge for physical violence via table smack, he leaned over and rummage in his bag for his potions equipment.

"Potter."

"What?" snapped Harry, still rummaging in his bag, now looking for some parchment and a quill to scratch notes down on.

"Much as I love the view," drawled Malfoy. "Could you please not wave your arse in my face like that?"

Harry, who had not been expecting a comment such as this, actually fell out of his chair straight into his bag and right into his transfigurations book. He heard a snapping sound and, as he pushed himself upright, felt his glasses dangling from his ears. Already in an awkward and embarrassing situation, Harry felt his face reddening, and his mood was not improved by Pavarti Patil and Lavender giggling at him from across the room.

"Thank you," said Malfoy, not looking up but continuing to work on the potion.

"You broke my glasses!" snarled Harry, dropping down into his seat, and glaring at Malfoy who was now only a pale blur next to him moving fuzzily.

"No I didn't," said Malfoy, turning towards him slightly, though Harry couldn't tell if he was looking at him or not. "Your transfigurations book broke your glasses because you fell into it. I had nothing to do with your glasses." Harry growled at him. "I simply asked you to stop waving your rump in my face."

"I was NOT waving my arse in your face!" Harry snapped, fiddling with the two broken halves of his glasses while still glaring at the fuzzy blot of Malfoy. "I was getting my potions ingredients!"

"Shut up," said Malfoy quietly.

"How can you tell me to shut up! You little g-"

"Mr. Potter!"

It seemed that Harry had forgotten that he was in a room full of other people and that one of those people was one of his least favorite people. Snape had glided over to them during the whole thing and was now looking down his hooked nose malevolently at him.

"Er," was all Harry could manage as he started up at the black blob that was his potions master, who seemed to be radiating an aura of annoyance and anger at the moment.

"Since it seems that you are unable to work even when I ask you," Snape ground out between clenched teeth, "It seemed that I have no choice but to have you come in later to finnish the assignment, seeing as I find it foolish to ruin another students grade because of your arrogance."

Snape turned on his heel and swept back to the front of the room to continue to watch the rest of the class for the remainder of the period, which was ending quickly.

Harry gaped at the black blob of Snape and turned to Malfoy. "Am I dreaming or did he just tell me to come in later with you to finnish this thing and not fail me."

"You need two people to make the potion," said the pale figure of Malfoy as he packed up the workings of the potion he had been working on. "I am not two people in case you haven't noticed. Or perhaps without your glasses you see double on occasion. I know you hate him, but Snape isn't completely unfair."

Harry glared and the blob-Malfoy. "He's just letting off his favorite Slytherin student, like he always does."

Malfoy sighed, closed his book, and turned to face Harry. "Hold still," He drawled holding up his hand and grasping what looked suspiciously like a stick of wood, also known as a wand, pointing directly at Harry's face. Harry froze rigid in his chair and looked at Malfoy in horror. "Reparo," the blond muttered and Harry felt the two halves of his glasses which he was holding up by his face, fuse together.

Bewildered, Harry looked down at his glasses, which still appeared to be fuzzy due to his poor eyesight, but which were obviously repaired. "What the Hell did you do that for?" he sputtered, hastily putting his glasses on and staring at Malfoy incredulously.

"Can't have you running into walls, suits of armour, or running up to random people and snogging them because you think they're Diggory," Malfoy drawled, smirking slightly as he leaned back in his chair and watched Harry, whose face had just gone a lovely shade of magenta. "On second though, that would be extremely entertaining. Fall on your Transfigurations book again would you, that'd be funny," he added grinning.

Sputtering indignantly, Harry stood up and glared furiously down at Malfoy, who continued to smirk up at him. "I really hate you, you know!" Harry spat at him, before snatching up his books with a growl and walking jerkily from the dungeon.

"Oi" Malfoy called after him. "We have to do our potions lab that you interrupted today this evening! Meet here after dinner."

Harry spun around to yell at the agonizing boy to find the door of the potions room swung shut in his face by a certain sallow skinned professor who was on his list of Top Disliked Persons.

"Potter, if you don't mind," sneered Professor Snape, gesturing smoothly to the dark corridor away from where the rest of the class was heading.

Harry, feeling that his luck couldn't possibly get any worse, followed the Potions Master a few yards down the dark passage.

"I don't know if you quite understand my intentions, Potter," Snape ground out, rubbing his head with his long fingers as if to relieve a throbbing pain. Harry stared at him in confusion. "The whole point in my pairing you with Mr. Malfoy was in an attempt to get you to learn something in my class." Harry gaped at him and Snape frowned. "Mr. Malfoy happens to be most proficient in Potions and you could learn a lot from him. You paired with Weasley has done nothing but impede your ability and, as the Hogwarts Champion, and one of my students, I will not allow you to continue this downward spiral that you have seemed to have taken as of late. I am going to pair up Weasley with Mrs. Granger. It seems that that might be the only way he will learn anything."

Harry simply stared in shock as his professor as if he had never seen him before in his life. "What are you talking about? I thought you hated me."

Snape laughed hollowly. "Oh, I dislike you a fair deal, Potter. However, I can't have you fouling up my class any longer and I expect to see some good results from your assignment tonight. If not, then I will be forced to go to the Headmaster about your antics and lack of attention in my class."

Harry felt himself grow hot with indignation. Before he could say anything however, Snape brushed passed him muttering "That is all" and leaving him alone. A second later, he had vanished and the Potions door opened and Malfoy strode out. Seeing Harry, he paused and smirked. Harry straightened up and glared at him.

"Want to walk me to class, Potter-boy?" Malfoy quipped, grinning at Harry. "It's good old Care of Magical Creatures you know. I'd rather not be attacked by another Hippogriff." He mimed a terrified and helpless expression. Harry scowled.

"You provoked him," Harry snarled, marching up to Malfoy. "And since when have you ever wanted to be in my company?"

"Since I wanted to see people look in horror at two enemies together in the same corridor not killing each other," responded Malfoy, grinning wider still.

Harry raised an eyebrow and stared at him. "You're sick, you know that?"

Malfoy just smiled at him.

"Any other reason you're being so sickly nice?"

"Not really. Thought those facial expressions are pretty much worth it." Harry glared at him and he laughed. "Just consider it one less enemy at the moment, yeah? You can still hate me in public to keep up images and whatever, I don't care."

Harry eyed him warily. "You seriously need to get your head checked."

Malfoy laughed. "Without a doubt. So, what do you say. Shall we attempt a semi-civilized conversation on the walk to Care of Magical Carnivores or what?"

"Carnivores?"

"An animal that feeds on flesh, Latin based," Malfoy smirked at Harry's obvious displeasure at his explanation. "Oh come on, Hagird's love of dangerous things is quite obvious. I am surprised we haven't been introduced to any acromantula yet."

Harry shivered, remembering his second year and Aragog. "You don't even want to know," he said with another shiver. Malfoy looked at him curiously. "I think the blast- ended skrewts are good for now."

"Think we'll walk them again?"

"All depends on whether they can take us for a walk or not."

Malfoy laughed and began to walk with Harry down the hall.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, some students passing by looked at them in shock and one or two of them actually stopped and stared, little Dennis Creevey actually fell over. Malfoy, surprisingly, kept darting quick looks at Harry as he walked, Harry staring determinedly ahead. Suddenly Malfoy said, "So why did you reject my invitation on the first day?"

Harry remained silent as the walked for a moment as Malfoy stared at him, waiting for his answer. Finally Harry replied, "You just seemed like a stuck up pretty boy who wanted the famous boy on his side. And you were stuck up before then even."

Malfoy gaped at him. "I didn't see you until that day on the train. What do you mean before?"

Harry smirked. "I met you when I was in Diagon Alley. You were getting your robes fitted."

Malfoy's jaw dropped open so that it looked as if gravity was using every force to claim it. "It was you in there? I can't believe I didn't realize it. Wow, no wonder you wanted to get rid of me."

Harry stared at him. Malfoy grinned foolishly. "I thought you were some kid from another great wizarding family. I mean," he paused and gesticulated irritably, "how was I supposed to know! The only other person I met that day was flaming Millicent Bulstrode. Lets face it, she's enough to put anyone on their guard, even Hagrid."

Harry burst out laughing at this and Malfoy smiled a little. "I was trying to be impressive, I suppose." He sighed. "Didn't work though."

"Not really," sighed Harry, lacing his hands behind his head as he walked. "You seemed like the biggest prat I had ever met. Well, except Dudley."

"Dudley?"

"You don't want to know."

"Oh."

Another pause.

"So I was pretty much a prat from day one to you then?"

Harry nodded and glanced at Malfoy.

"Shame," sighed Malfoy, stuffing his hands into his pockets and slouching slightly as he walked, which gve him a relaxed and eased look. Much different from his usual proud upright stance. "So I had already mussed things up with Golden Boy before I even had a chance."

Harry frowned at him, pondering over his words. Chance for what? "Why do you always single me out?"

Malfoy looked at him sidelong, smirking slightly. "Your reactions, they're brilliantly funny. And because..." he trailed off and looked ahead of him dazedly, smirk fading.

"What?"

"Nothing. We're late."

Harry hastily removed his hands from behind his head and glanced at his watch to see they had under three minutes to make it out to Hagrid's on time. "Shit!" he swore as both he and Malfoy broke into a heavy sprint down the corridor.