When Draco woke up again, he wasn't surprised to see Madame Pomfrey leaning over him. He was surprised, however, to realize that the weird, shimmering light was still there, around the witch.

He let out a cough, to let her know that he was awake so that she could move away for him to sit up. He saw Snape and Potter were once again in the infirmary, a good distance away and talking heatedly. He sort of felt sorry for Potter, having Snape breathing down his neck like that. Honestly, he believed that Potter didn't put anything in their potion.

It would be un-Potter like, after all, and Draco liked to think that while they still fought constantly, their animosity had lessened to a lower degree. Potter was still an irritating git though, he added as an afterthought.

"I had originally planned to release you for lunch, Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey said, cutting his train of thought. "But it seems that Professor Snape still wants a word with you."

As if right on cue, a house-elf appeared with a crack and left a tray of food on his bedside table.

Madame Pomfrey spoke with the house-elf, but Draco wasn't really paying attention because Snape and Harry had realized that he was awake and was talking towards him now. Once again, as they neared, the shimmering around them became more and more pronounced.

He sighed. Really, his godfather could be as overprotective as his mother sometimes. He did not want to think about Snape cooing at him and asking if he'd eaten breakfast yet, so he quickly squashed that thought.

"Anything new, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked him, though his eyes were still rooted beside him, glaring at Potter who glared at the floor.

Madame Pomfrey gave her wand a few flicks, before turning to the Potions professor. "He's really fine, Professor. I don't see anything wrong with him."

Snape removed his gaze from Potter to look at him. Draco shrugged. "You're all still shining," he said, mainly because he knew that the expressions he was going to get would be amusing.

Sure enough, Madame Pomfrey looked confused as hell and Snape looked more stiff and twitchy than normal. He was surprised, though, when Potter grinned at him and chuckled.

Snape rounded on Potter immediately. "And what's so funny, Mr. Potter?"

Harry immediately came on the defensive, the grin off his face. "Nothing, Professor!"

At that, something happened. Draco's eyes widened as the clear light surrounding Potter didn't seem so clear now. It was a startling black. "Woah!" he yelped in surprise, jerking backwards towards the headboard of the bed.

All heads turned to him.

The black... thing flittered around Potter's figure, not enough to seem as if it were eating him, but still... there. Later, Draco would describe it as small, black Snitches fluttering together but now all he could do was gape at Harry.

Harry gaped at him right back.

"What is it, Mr. Malfoy?" Madame Pomfrey asked, instantly beside him and sounding troubled.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Draco burst out, waving at Potter frantically with one hand.

Confused and just a little bit shaken, Harry looked down at himself. "Um," he said, when all he saw was his normal robes. He had half-expected to see a baby acromantula gripping his torso with all his legs, but there was not even a normal spider on his robes. Not that he could see, since his robes were dark, so he ran his hands down his robes, looking for what it is Malfoy was seeing.

Cautiously, he looked at Snape, who looked as baffled as he did.

He turned his head towards Madame Pomfrey, almost pleadingly.

"Um," Harry said again, looking at Draco. "What the bloody hell is what?"

The black was now slowly turning back into its original state, that clear and light fluttering.

"T-that!" Draco persisted, waving at Potter, eyes raking up and down as he took in the slowly disappearing blackness of the... whatever that flittering thing was. "Those... black..." he faltered, annoyed at how stupid he was sounding.

"My robes?" Harry let out, confused.

He was surprised when Draco glared at him.

"No, Potter," Draco said, chin raised in haughtiness. "Do you think I'm stupid?" he snapped.

"No," Harry said quickly, waving his hands for emphasis.

The black was completely gone now, and Draco stared at it, confused but not panicking anymore. He slightly relaxed against the bed, scrunching his nose up in concentration.

Harry fidgeted in his place, nervous at Draco's intense scrutiny.

An awkward silence passed in the infirmary, between the four individuals as Draco crossed his arms and stayed silent. The pretty lights were back now, with no traces of black, but Draco continued to stare anyway because Harry continued to fidget.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said calmly, cutting the tension with a knife. "Tell me everything that happened during our class yesterday, after the... explosion," he finished dryly.

He sounded so calm that Harry couldn't help but break out into a cold sweat. Even with his new found respect for the man, he still found him intimidating. Back then, it was easy to fight back because there was a reason to, but now, even Harry himself was feeling guilty, even though he knew he did nothing.

"Err, well," Harry started lamely, wiping his hands down his robe because they were starting to become sweaty. "We cleaned up the cauldron and started to work on the second potion," he said slowly, wondering how detailed Snape wanted him to be. "We filled the cauldron with Erumpent Exploding Fluid, before adding in the rat tails. Three of them," Harry added quickly. "Malfoy stirred it twenty-three times, counter-clockwise –" At Snape's impatient grunt, Harry immediately swallowed down his details about the temperature. Okay, obviously Snape didn't want him to be that detailed. "Then added the crushed wormwood."

They had followed Snape's instructions perfectly. Of course they did, with Malfoy being his obsessive-compulsive self.

"We let it boil until the end of class," Harry continued, mumbling now. Draco was still staring at him which was really getting unnerving. He discreetly rubbed at his nose, just in case there was dirt there.

Draco couldn't help it though. He was still thinking about the black from earlier, and he was now starting to think that maybe there really was something wrong with him. You just don't see shiny things floating around other people, nor do you see said shiny things suddenly turn a vicious black while the people around you have made it clear that they're not seeing the same thing as you are by looking at you as if you just grew a hippogriff head.

"It's true, Professor," he said, shrugging as he remembered the Potions class from yesterday.

Snape, after a while, nodded almost imperceptibly at him, before turning back to Potter. "And during your detention?"

Now, Harry found it in him to glare at his professor. "I didn't put anything in the potion," he muttered. "I barely finished cleaning the room with Scouring Spells, before Peeves came in and started wrecking –" He stopped, eyes wide.

Snape stared back at him, looking almost stunned for a moment before his usual cold demeanor placed itself back on his face. "You are to stay with Mr. Malfoy, Potter, until I return. He's in your care since it was you who placed him in this predicament," he said, scoffing.

Harry's jaw dropped. Hadn't they just come to the silent agreement that this was all Peeves fault? Well, at least Harry thought that the eye contact and the look of realization on Snape's face meant 'agreement'. Why couldn't Snape view things the same as normal, less seemingly constipated people?

"Peeves!" he cried out, at the same time Draco yelled, "Potter?"

As Snape walked out of the infirmary with a swoosh of his robes (Snape really liked doing that, huh?), Harry thought that his professor looked smug.

Draco glared at him. "Well, I hope you're happy with yourself, Potter."

Harry looked absolutely flummoxed. "Me?"

Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at them.

They both shut up.

"Now," she started. "Eat your lunch, dears. I do believe that Professor Snape will come back for you soon. Before the end of lunch, seeing as you two still have your classes, and –" She gave them a hard stare. "No killing each other in my infirmary."

More flicks of her wand and a transfigured chair made itself known by nudging Harry's hip.

Satisfied, she left them to their own devices.

Grumbling, Harry sat down on the chair heavily, going back to his glaring competition with Malfoy.

"Great, now I'm stuck with The Golden Boy," Draco muttered dryly, resting his head against the headboard with a sigh.

Harry cringed at that. He hated that title, much like he hated 'The Boy Who Lived'. He thought that he should have gotten used to them a long time ago. He sighed. The war's over now. He just wanted to move on.

"Yeah, you're stuck with me," he let out, leaning back against the chair. He was tired and it wasn't even half the day yet. Harry felt justified though, because really, having Malfoy collapse on you and Snape interrogate you and pretty much breathe down your neck were rather taxing. He wasn't in the mood for arguing, especially with Malfoy.

"Marvelous," Draco grumbled, but with no real bite this time. He scooted over so that he was facing the side-table where the tray of food lay, crossing his legs under him before proceeding to pour syrup on the pancakes. "So I suppose you really don't have any idea what happened to our potion?"

"Oh, for the love of –," Harry said exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. "For the last time, no, I don't know what happened to our potion. If I did, I'm pretty sure you would too, seeing as you're my very meticulous partner."

Draco smirked at that.

"But –" Harry started, as if he just realized something. He suddenly looked crestfallen. "Well, err, if I did do something – which I don't think I did, at least, not consciously, I guess – then, well –"

There was a time when misfortune befalling Malfoy would have made Harry grin as if it was Christmas. Like that instance with Buckbeak in third year. Or Hermione breaking his nose. Yeah, those were good days. But, Harry thought sullenly, things have changed now.

Malfoy had changed, and so did he.

"Apology accepted, Potter," Draco scoffed, waving it off. "So the rumors of your ineloquence are true."

Harry flushed, looking away and grumbling under his breath about prats. He took a piece of toast from Malfoy's tray and promptly devoured it.

Draco scrunched up his nose in disgust. "As well as the rumors of your table manners," he quipped.

Harry shrugged, swallowing. "I'm hungry."

"Obviously."

Harry poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. "So," he started. "What was that about earlier?" he asked, mentally noting how weird this was, to make conversation with Malfoy. Civil conversation. Outside Potions. (And even in Potions, most of their time was spent bickering.)

Draco sighed loudly. "You must think I'm mental," he mumbled, almost whining.

"Not really," Harry said sympathetically. "Trust me, I wouldn't."

And while Draco knew that Harry was talking about his past experiences where in no one believed him when he talked about voices and dreams and Voldemort, he still felt warm hearing that. That was precisely the reason why he decided to once again describe what he saw earlier to Potter. After all, if anyone understood seeing bizarre things that no one else did, it was Potter.

Draco peered closer at the light around Harry's body. To Harry, it just seemed like Draco was staring at the front of his robes.

"You're surrounded by light. Well, even Professor Snape and Madame Pomfrey earlier, and not light exactly, but..." Draco started, huffing as he found it hard to explain. He racked his brain for words to help him.

Harry waited patiently for him to continue.

Finally, Malfoy gave up and just went with his earlier description. "It's like small Golden Snitches fluttering around you!" he burst out, almost exasperatedly. He turned to his pancakes. "Well, right now they are. Earlier when I yelled at you – terribly sorry about that, Potter –" He didn't sound sorry at all. "— they suddenly turned black so it shocked me, that's all."

Harry blinked, looking down at himself, expecting to see lots of Snitches flying around him. He meant what he said earlier: he didn't think Malfoy was mental. He actually believed him. "And you said Snape and Madame Pomfrey have them too?"

Draco nodded, chewing thoughtfully.

"And... mine's the only one that turned black? Since I'm the only one you kept on staring at."

Draco would have nodded again, but then he caught sight of Harry's expression. He rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't look so worried, Potter. I'm positive it's nothing serious."

"Yeah, but," Harry shrugged. "Black." He thought about having held a piece of Voldemort's soul and couldn't help the small shudder that ran through him.

Draco gave him a hard look. "Don't worry about it," he said firmly.

Harry wondered since when did Malfoy not want him to worry about anything? But he nodded anyway and did not.

"So," he said again.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You are horrible at this conversation thing, aren't you?"

Harry flushed guiltily but tried to look indignant about it.

He helped himself to Malfoy's breakfast. "So I actually have to stay here with you, huh?" he grumbled, taking Malfoy's fork (It was the only fork.) and poking at the eggs.

"Yes, because if I am to suffer, then I'm dragging you with me," Draco said matter-of-factly, then his expression turned into one of horror as Harry raised the forkful of eggs to his mouth. "Potter, you are not contaminating my fork with your –"

Harry shoved the eggs in his mouth before Draco had the chance to finish his sentence. He smirked. "Oh, don't be such a girl, Malfoy."

Draco glared at him.

When Snape checked his list again, it didn't make any more sense than it did to him the first time he read it. After Peeves had left the Potions classroom in such a dreadful state yesterday, the first thing that Snape did was gather the ingredients and potions that the poltergeist had thrown from their cabinets to the other side of the room. He was absolutely seething and itching to grab a hold of some ghost necks, but that didn't stop him from inventorying and checking what was missing first.

(As soon as he was done with that, he fled the room to find the Bloody Baron.)

He looked at his list again, noting the checks that told him that everything was accounted for. Except for three.

He made his way towards the infirmary.

"Amortentia, Veritaserum, and Blood-Replenishing Potion," Snape told Madame Pomfrey, promptly ignoring the two boys beside them, one on the bed and one sitting on the chair.

Draco scowled at this because he had the right to know, too, since it was him they were talking about. Of course, it wasn't like Snape was trying to keep it a secret since, after all, they were talking just beside him but he still didn't take very well to being ignored like that. Harry, on the other hand, experienced Snape's attention more than any other student in Hogwarts and was immensely grateful.

Madame Pomfrey frowned. "That doesn't make much sense, Professor. How would –"

"Yesterday, Peeves –" Snape scowled darkly at this before continuing. "— made quite a show in my classroom during Potter's detention. Every ingredient and potion is accounted for, except for these three. I am guessing that one of these may have mixed with Mr. Malfoy's potion."

Harry frowned. Why did no one ever mention that it was his potion too? Though, regarding the situation, it was probably for the best that his name wasn't attached to said potion.

"During Mr. Potter's detention, you say?" Madame Pomfrey said thoughtfully, looking at Harry. "Did you witness this, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded.

"And you also think it is possible that something may have mixed with the potion that Mr. Malfoy took?"

Harry paused at that. He didn't remember much of what happened since he was so focused on Peeves flying around and trying not to get hit by the bottles that the poltergeist kept on throwing at him. He did remember the very loud explosion though, the one he thought might have caused a hole in the wall and –

He blinked, realization seeping in. "A blub."

Three pair of eyes looked at him incredulously.

Snape looked less than impressed.

Draco groaned and buried his face in his hands, resigned to the fact that he was doomed to whatever this potion was going to do to him. (Not that it's done anything other than let him see little Golden Snitches flying around other people that turn into an angry black quite abruptly, but that wasn't normal and therefore was a cause of distress.)

"A blub, you say," Madame Pomfrey murmured, looking thoughtful.

Harry nodded, pointedly ignoring the two men and talking to her instead. "Yes, like a stone being dropped into the Great Lake," he said, glaring at Malfoy who snorted at his analogy.

Bless Madame Pomfrey, she actually smiled. "Well, there you have it, Professor!" she quipped, her hands on her hips. "It looks like something did mix with Mr. Malfoy's potion after all."

"Mr. Malfoy, do you have a sudden and unexplainable infatuation with poltergeists?" Snape drawled calmly.

Draco stared at him, eyes wide and horrified that his head of house was talking to him in such strange language.

"Or, perhaps, you have a sudden desire to run away towards the sunset with Peeves and quite possibly elope with him?"

Harry would have laughed, if he wasn't busy wearing the same expression that Malfoy was because oh, God, this was all coming from Snape's mouth.

Snape looked at Malfoy's stricken expression and nodded to himself, satisfied. "Obviously, it is not Amortentia. Blood-replenishing Potion?"

Madame Pomfrey frowned. "Oh, I hope not. That would prove disastrous, considering he hasn't lost any blood at all," she commented, before turning back to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, do you feel anything like... perhaps nausea? Or the urge to vomit?"

Draco forcibly pushed the memory of Snape asking him about riding towards sunsets at the very back of his head. He glanced at the half-eaten breakfast on the bedside table. "No," he said. "I'm still quite hungry."

The Mediwitch nodded. "And what you told us earlier, about us shining, is it still true?"

Harry wondered how she could sound so casual about it, but he figured when you're in her line of work, you'd have to have seen everything.

Draco nodded.

"Potter," Snape snapped quite abruptly. He sneered. "Lie."

You couldn't really blame Harry for looking bewildered. "What?"

Snape looked menacing now, so Harry quickly opened his mouth before Snape did. "Uhm, I – I'm not Harry Potter," he let out, feeling ridiculous. As soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, Malfoy let out a yelp of surprise.

Draco quickly covered his mouth afterwards, flushing that such an undignified sound came from him. He stared at Potter. "You're, uh, black again," he explained, knowing that the other boy would understand him.

Harry blinked, looking down at himself again, but this time, he wasn't as terrified as the first time and he definitely wasn't thinking of acromantulas anymore. "Oh," he replied articulately.

Snape looked satisfied, and if one peered really hard, maybe even a little bit intrigued. "A mixture of the Restoration Potion and Veritaserum it is, then," he murmured, almost to himself. Then, recovering, he turned to Draco. "Congratulations, Mr. Malfoy, you seem to have... ingested... the skill to determine perjurers – quite literally, in fact."

Both Draco and Harry looked at him blankly. Draco, because what Snape said was outrageous, and Harry, because he had no idea what 'perjurer' meant.

Madame Pomfrey, bless her once again, explained. "Mr. Malfoy, considering that you can see us shining, and this shine which as you said turned black when Mr. Potter spoke a lie... Well, it seems that you can tell if someone is being untruthful."

"Like a Sneakoscope?" Harry supplied helpfully.

Snape was about to give out a sharp retort when he realized that yes, quite like a Sneakoscope.

Once more, Draco groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Oh, God, I have been degraded to an object," he muttered mournfully. His father must be having a fit in Azkaban right about now, going about the regality of Malfoys.

"I think it's kind of cool," Harry said, grinning at Malfoy's mortification.

"Not helping, Potter," Draco mumbled against his hand. He raised his head to glare, but blinked instead when he realized that the light around Potter had gone clear again. He was going to have to figure this truth-lie thing if he wanted anything to make sen –

He gasped, suddenly feeling his chest tighten and he doubled over, forcing himself to breathe and his chest to not hurt so fucking much. There was blood rushing in his ears and he could barely make out the panicked voices beside him, and oh, God, his throat was burning and – with a heave – Draco coughed furiously, blood staining the clean white sheets of his bed.

He fell back against his pillow, eyes wide and chest heaving, taking in lungfuls of air as soon as he realized that yes, he could breathe again.

Something cold touched his forehead and he realized belatedly that someone was wiping at his forehead with a wet towel. It felt nice, and he shuddered, closing his eyes and concentrating on breathing.

Soon, the voices became clearer now and Madame Pomfrey was softly cooing in his ear. "Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?"

No, he was not all right. "Peachy," he rasped out, his throat still feeling like it was scratched.

Suddenly, Snape cursed. "The Erumpent Exploding Fluid must have reacted with the Dragon Blood of the Veritaserum, I should have known..." He was muttering to himself, looking quite shaken as well.

Draco closed his eyes now, not wanting to look at Potter's face. He felt mortified that Potter had to see him in this embarrassing state but then – he wasn't going to make it look like he was afraid, so he forced his eyes open and looked pointedly at the other boy –

– who was no longer sitting but was standing upright, looking pale and stricken and also... worried?

Draco wanted to laugh. Saint Potter, indeed.

He couldn't resist. "Don't look like that, Potter," he let out, raspy. "You look like Moaning Myrtle." He laughed lowly at his own joke, remembering sixth year.

"Are you..." Harry started, shakily, unsurely. He looked at Malfoy for a moment, before nervously drifting his gaze to the side.

"Professor," Madame Pomfrey said suddenly, dropping the towel back in the basin of water that Draco did not remember being beside him on the bed. She turned to the Potions Master who halted his muttering to look at her. "How long before the Potion wears off?"

At this, Snape frowned and almost looked unsure. "The Restoration Potion is a type of potion that works immediately upon consumption, though the Veritaserum..." He paled considerably. When he spoke again, it was almost soft. "I seem to remember that I had a whole vial of Veritaserum in my supply closet."

If Draco wasn't already pale from the fit earlier, then he certainly would have blanched now. "A whole bloody vial? That's enough for someone to spit out their secrets for a month!"

When Harry was done feeling panicky over Malfoy, then he was going to work on being jealous because why couldn't he talk back to Snape like that and not have fifty points taken in a heartbeat?

Despite Draco's outburst, Snape regarded him calmly. "What's your name?"

Draco stared at him, confounded and absolutely flummoxed. "What?"

"Seeing as you failed to tell me your name when I asked it of you, I'm fairly certain that you won't be spewing any secrets, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said. "You were correct when you said that a whole vial of Veritaserum stays in the system for a month, though since the Erumpent Exploding Fluid reacted unfavorably with the Dragon Blood, it's uncertain how long this Potion will take effect. Fortunately, it'll have to go away on its own sooner or later."

Draco grumbled. "Sooner or later, huh," he muttered.

"Well, there you have it then," Madame Pomfrey quipped, quite cheerfully. "So long as you're not in grave peril, Mr. Malfoy. I believe you'll be just fine until the Potion wears off."

And Draco, now that there was sufficient oxygen in his brain again and his chest wasn't hurting anymore, realized that yeah, maybe he will just be fine. Besides, he was a Slytherin. Knowing when someone was being untruthful to you definitely had its perks. Oh, he was so going straight to Blaise after this and ask him if he has the hots for Longbottom.

"Drink this, dear," Madame Pomfrey said, giving him a small bottle. "It's for your throat."

Quite abruptly, Draco was reminded of his earlier coughing fit and realized that okay, so maybe he wasn't going to be just fine.

Apparently, Snape was reminded of that as well because he turned to Potter, sneering. "I expect you to be with Mr. Malfoy until the Potion wears off, Potter. We can't have any accidents when Mr. Malfoy is... unsupervised."

Draco and Harry both wore similar looks of disbelief.

When Madame Pomfrey said "I also believe it's for the best, boys.", the looks of disbelief quickly changed into that of horror.

"Malfoy," Harry let out, strangled. He looked at the boy on the bed, almost pleading. "Please tell me they're joking."

Draco realized, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that the shining light surrounded Snape and Madame Pomfrey were, in fact, very clear and translucent. No hints of black in them at all.

"This is your fault, Potter," he muttered and couldn't even bring himself to enjoy the cry of dismay that came from Potter's lips.