It was the night of the Christmas dance, and all day long, the students walked the halls with excitement in their eyes. McGonagall had shortened class times for the day, as the students would require time to get ready for the dance, and then finish up any final packing before their departure. As usual, however, there were only two people who didn't let their smiles reach their eyes: Harry Potter, and Draco Malfoy.

Well, Harry was a bit more excited for the dance than Draco was, as the last time he'd properly danced was in fourth year at the Yule Ball.

"I don't understand why everyone is so excited. All you're doing is moving your feet while music plays in the background." Draco claimed, rolling his eyes as he finished up the last of his paperwork before the break. Harry, who had been writing a letter to Hermione paused and glanced up at the blond.

"It's not just moving your feet, Malfoy. You get to spend time with your friends, socialize with the girls while they're all dolled up, and just generally loosen up. It's a break before the break!" Harry explained, a glimmer in his eyes. Sure, at the Yule Ball he and Ron had made arses out of themselves and Hermione, but the entire feeling and atmosphere of the night had been uplifting.

"Okay, but that's from a student's perspective. We're not students anymore. We have to chaperone." The blond sighed, rolling his eyes.

"At least it's something to do on a Friday night."

"I could think of a number of things I'd rather do."

"You're such a buzzkill. We should get ready; the dance should be starting soon, and we have to be there before the students start to arrive." And then, Harry abandoned his parchment and headed for the trunk beside his bed in pursuit of finding something formal to wear. Not soon after, Draco walked into the room as well.

After searching for a good ten minutes, Harry's pursuit turns out to be useless. Draco had already changed and was applying more gel to his hair delicately. The blond glanced at the messy haired wizard through his mirror, and made a tsk-ing sound.

"Merlin, Potter. By the time you're ready, the dance'll be over." He sneered, turning to face the shorter lad with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I haven't got something to wear." Harry admitted bashfully, bowing his head so as to not meet the blond's eyes.

"Isn't that a shocker - not. I'm surprised to see you have as many outfits as you do, as is. Can't go around expecting that you'd find time to buy fancy robes or anything, no, that's ridiculous. You're too busy strutting to think of the important things."

"I don't strut, Malfoy. Now, do you have something I could wear, or no?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows in aggravation, and Draco's eyes widened in surprise. Harry Potter in his clothes? What a concept!

"I might, if you promise not to stretch them out and treat them kindly, seeing as you walk around like some Bulgarian Beast." Draco had recovered, finding his comment to be witty, and knelt down to search through his trunk for something that had maybe gotten too small for him and would fit Potter's awkward body.

Twenty minutes later, the professors made their way into the Great Hall: Malfoy ignoring Potter as best he could, though still finding himself staring at the wizard way more than he should've. The dressing robes were a perfect fit, and made Harry Potter look almost like a respected member of society.

Various upperclassmen girls fawned over Harry's outfit, and attempted to flirt with them, but the green eyed lad kindly turned them down and spooned a bit of iced pumpkin juice into his cup. Malfoy stood along a wall, watching as the students danced foolishly in their dresses and nice suits. He crossed his arms over his chest, thinking of how desperately he wanted to leave, but he couldn't. Not only would McGonagall be angry at him, but now Draco had to make sure Potter didn't muck up his clothing. And so, he found his eyes following the messy haired wizard for most of the night.

  ~△⃒⃘~

"Oi, look at Malfoy over there. He can't keep his eyes off Potter!" Anthony Pembroke, a Ravenclaw fifth year stood with his friends along the outskirts of the dance-floor, beside the bowl of iced pumpkin juice with mischievous looks on their faces.

"It's just like when they were students!" Charles Byerley commented, snickering at the blond who stood unaware.

"Hey, aren't those the robes Malfoy wore to the Yule Ball back in his fourth year?" Bradley Grant asked, pointing across the room to where Harry Potter was twirling Professor Sprout around playfully,

"How do you remember those, Bradley?" Anthony asked, putting his hands on his hips as he peered at Potter.

"Oh, I dunno. Malfoy only flaunted the outfit for two days prior to the Ball, talking about how they were crafted from the most expensive, foreign of silks and such. If Potter's wearing them, there's gotta be a connection, right?" Bradley explained, and his friends nodded.

"Fellas, I think we need to push our new pawns in this exotic, magnificently turned erotic game into a forward motion. Byerley, have you got the potion?" Anthony asked, a devilish smirk on his face.

"I do! Quick, cover me so I don't get caught. A lot of interesting things are about to happen." Anthony and Bradley stood on either side of Charles. While they watched for anyone who might be looking at them, Charles slipped a small vial of Veritaserum into the pumpkin juice, and then stuffed the empty vial into his pocket before hurrying away.

"Oi, Malfoy's coming over. Game, set, match. Disperse!" Bradley announced, and the three of them each headed off in separate directions, Bradley walking past the professor. "Evening, Malfoy!"

"That's Professor Malfoy to you." Draco spat, and swung his robes dramatically before heading over towards the punch bowl. Each of the three boys watched eagerly as the blond poured himself a drink, and downed it quickly, before striding off to stand at another wall. Once he was out of earshot, they all laughed.

"Let the night commence." Anthony muttered, and then grabbed the nearest girl and spun her around, joining the waltz that had started.

~△⃒⃘~

Harry Potter watched Draco from across the room as subtly as he could. Whenever he turned whilst dancing the waltz, he could feel the blond's icy eyes on him, and he didn't really understand why. Professor Trelawney attempted to speak to the Potions professor, but he seemed fixated on only seeing Harry, and this made the green eyed wizard blush.

Did he have something on his borrowed robes? Why ever was Malfoy looking at him so intently? He watched as the blond brought his cup of iced pumpkin juice to his lips, eyes still focused on Potter, and he found himself excusing the rest of the dance to walk towards the blond slowly.

"Malfoy?" He queried, but the blond didn't respond. His eyes were slightly glassy, and Harry wondered if he'd been crying, or drinking. Draco gripped the plastic cup in his hands harshly, almost crinkling it as his eyes darted quickly away from Potter and towards a group of girls who were swaying and doing a cabaret-style line, giggling lightheartedly. "Malfoy!"

Draco's eyes darted back to Harry. He took another drink, attempting to distract himself. Harry took the drink, eyeing the blond with caution, and pointed his wand at it, willing it to reveal any potion or charm it'd been laced with.

At the same time that Harry noticed the potion swirling against the orange, sweet substance, Draco blurted out something that left the green-eyed wizard confused:

"I slept with a night-light until I was thirteen."

Veritaserum.

"Malfoy, who slipped this into your drink? How many have you had? This isn't good. I've got to take you to Madam Pomfrey's."

"I dunno, Pottah. I don't need a nurse. I'm a big boy, and I can handle my elf. Haha, I don't have an elf. You set him free, remember?" The blond fell into a spout of laughter, and Harry sighed, wrapping his arm around the damaged wizard's shoulder and leading him from the Great Hall.

"Come on, Malfoy. Stop talking, you'll only ruin your reputation." Harry rolled his eyes. On other circumstances, he would've found this hilarious and would've tried to pry as much information out of the unknowing Slytherin as possible, but it was obvious he's taken far too high a dosage of potion.

"Haha, reputation sounds like potato nation, doesn't it? You look really nice in my robes, Harry. You should wear my clothes more often: green really suits you. It matches your eyes. You have nice eyes, did you know that? I'm very attracted to your outfit tonight." Draco babbled, and Harry's steps faltered.

Drunken words hold truths, but Draco wasn't drunk. He was overdosing on potion. He was delirious. He didn't mean anything he said, did he? But then again, this was a truth potion.

"If you were a girl, I'd force you out of that outfit right now. Even if you weren't a girl. Hm, maybe I'm just attracted to your outfit, not you. I dunno." Malfoy giggled, placing his hand flirtatiously on Harry's bicep.

"Malfoy, sod off before you do something you regret." Harry complained, finally reaching the Hospital Wing and calling for the nurse.

Madam Pomfrey appeared and Harry helped her secure Draco into a bed. He told her that Draco had consumed Veritaserum, and neither knew how much, and she sighed before heading off to concoct a reversible potion. If that wouldn't work, they'd just have to wait for the effects to wear off.

"Moonlight compliments you, Pottah. You look elfish. I like elves. Dobby was a good elf. I liked Dobby." Draco babbled, and Harry took a seat on the stool beside his bed, frowning down at him.

"Malfoy, you don't even realize what you're saying." He sighed, crossing his arms.

"Look, there's a missile in tow!" Draco pointed above him, and Harry furrowed an eyebrow before glancing up to spot the 'missile in tow' that the blond had been speaking of.

"Mistletoe?" He asked, rolling his eyes boredly.

"Yeah, that! You know what you're supposed to do under mistletoes don't you?" Draco asked.

"Yes, but that's not us. We're not- we're not like that. I'm not gonna kiss you when you're converting into an innocent toddler. It's just not something we do."

"But now I'm a sad, pouty toddler." Draco crossed his arms over his chest, pouting.

"Remind me to never get drunk with you, Malfoy." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Never get drunk with me." The blond smirked. "You owe me a mistletoe."

The blond fell asleep soon after, leaving Harry in a dilemma. Veritaserum made you speak the truth, but in a high dosage like that, who knew what it could do. He didn't want to take any chances. Draco Malfoy -the supposed completely straight Potions professor- had been undeniably hitting on him, and it left Harry more confused than ever. Were these honest to Merlin feelings, or was Malfoy just ridiculously loopy?

In two days, the blond was due to head out to his mother's, and in those two days -assuming he made a fast recovery- Harry was determined to figure out Malfoy's true intentions. He would not play this game any longer.