Spells and potions gone wrong. (Yaoi-Harry Potter)

This is a story that came to my head and begged me to write it out. So its going pretty steady so far unless I run into a snag. Of course I do not own anyone from Harry Potter, and this story takes place outside any of the books though I might reference to earlier things if they fit the plot. This is a yaoi fan fic between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Do not read if you do not like.

You have been warned.

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INTRO

The heat of a fire, burning strong; the soft clink of various vials being selected and replaced; and even the somewhat strong scent of the potion in the works of boiling away in the cauldron suspended over the fire itself. A low chuckle, slender fingers curling around the stirring rod as the thin liquid was mixed, a smile curling a smooth mouth. He was going to pay and pay dearly for making a fool out of someone that had always been and would always be above him. Everything down to those ratty glasses screamed of someone who didn’t belong in his ranks, yet from what he understood, the other boy had nearly equal, if not more money than his own family. Well, probably did have more, had the Ministry not been so strict with all these payments that his parents needed to make.

The blond smiled, looking down at the slip of paper that was spread out just beside his free hand, far enough from the fire where it wouldn’t burn. It was time he taught Potter a lesson, and best of all, he should be able to get away with this, with no one wiser of what had happened. Though it should have concerned him how he had come across this spell, much less a particular, important ingredient; it didn’t. Someone had been looking out for him obviously, maybe his own father, but Draco didn’t let the thought linger for long. Because the spell worked perfectly for what he may want to do, though it had been just a little confusing to find that only part of the spell was even there. Just enough of the ingredients and the steps to prepare the potion, as well as the directions of how to use it; but nothing else, not even a name for the potion. And though he had hunted through various potion books before he got to work, he couldn’t find anything that matched this certain mix, but he merely tightened his jaw, reminded himself of why he was doing this, and got down to work.

He knew Potter had been lurking around, wondering about what Draco could possibly be up to in the Room of Requirement. And the Gryffindor should be worried. Crabbe and Goyle had informed the Malfoy heir of how Potter repeatedly visited the hall, but they managed to turn him away every time. Let Potter squirm until the time came, and then Potter would know exactly what Draco was up to once and for all. Slender fingers lifted up the last vial, holding it up to the light to inspect the contents, as he had many times before. And he still saw the same contents, unchanged though he had checked with multiple spells to make sure this was real. Several pure black strands of hair that the note had said came from the one and only Harry Potter. And it had certainly triggered as Potter’s hair, no traces of odd spells on it. Still grinning, he tugged the stopper out, tipping the hairs into the cauldron and watching the thin blue liquid shimmer to a deep gold. Perfect, just as the directions said it should.

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A week or so later, Draco finally found his chance. The potion was complete and ready for the punishment that he planned to dole out on Potter. Being a Perfect had its advantages, such as being out in the halls at night on patrol. And the fact that he had been tracking Potter’s route for the last few days, a fact that he should have told a teacher about, but chose to keep to himself, if only to corner Potter. The first few times, he hadn’t been sure of what he had noticed until he paid better attention, but he knew about the magical cloak that Potter had, and the idiot had blundered a few times, either that or mumbling to himself as he walked down the hall, not even seeming to notice the blonde when Draco ducked into an alcove. He had noticed not long after school had started two months back, Potter had been spending more and more time on his own. It seemed the other part of the Golden Trio had ended up dating, leaving the Boy Who Lived as the third wheel. The Slytherin Prince snorted inwardly, he was not feeling sorry for Potter at all. It was actually a little amusing, though even Draco had spent less time around Crabbe and Goyle, not wanting to deal with their idiocy other than using them for guards while he worked in the Room of Requirement. But that didn’t mean he was anything like the Boy Who Lived, not at all.

He pressed a hand over his mouth to muffle the more physical snort, backing up rapidly when he detected a foot shuffling on the stone floors. He didn’t have long to wait, barely holding back the urge to laugh when the idiot was stupid enough to reveal his arm, probably thinking he saw something but from what Draco knew, seeing through the cloak could be a little dizzying and play with the senses. At least that was the trouble he had when he had tried wearing one when he was much younger, the soft material had seemed a bit blurry, trying to look through it. To most that weren’t paying attention, the brief reveal of the arm might have gone unnoticed but Draco certainly saw, and slipped away from the dark alcove as soon as Potter disappeared again and the footsteps continued up the hall. Depending on the silence of the halls to help, he trailed the footsteps, slowing if they did, as not to catch up to the hidden boy.

Ah, there. Like clockwork, the other boy had turned into an empty classroom, far enough from the usual patrol route that he wouldn’t be found. The teacher, who ran this class, had a room along with the rest of the teachers on a different floor so they would be undisturbed unless a ghost happened to turn up. He paused a few feet down the hall from the door, counting silently to give Potter time to get settled, relax and be completely unaware of what might happen. As soon as he reached ten, he stalked forward, eased the door open to peek in, and slipped through quickly as soon as he saw the other wasn’t paying attention. Instead Potter was staring out a window at the night sky, completely absorbed in his thoughts,”Potter!”

And had the glee to watch the black haired boy nearly tumble off the window seat that he had settled on. A hand was fumbling for his wand, Draco taking the moment to shut the door and stalk further into the room, fingers wrapping around the vial in his pocket. In one fluid move, he pulled the vial out, tugged the stopper out and threw it at Potter. Which the Boy Who Lived had regained his calm in those moments, that Draco was aware of the spells being cast, faster then he remembered Potter managing before. A binding spell, followed closely by a reflection charm that didn’t seem properly cast.

And that was when things took a turn for the strange. Draco was aware of the binding spell meeting is mark, his wand having still been in its holder while he threw the potion. And the fact that some of the potion had been thrown back at him by the reflection spell. There was a brief golden glow, even as he felt his arms lock, the glow bright enough that he almost missed the same glow on Potter. But that was ignored for the strange sense of feeling shock and confusion that clearly wasn’t his emotions. Or at least not totally his alone, but he couldn’t have begun to explain it at all.

And then he was tipping backwards, unable to keep his balance, aware of a shooting pain in the back of his head even before he hit the floor. And the dizzying shock threw his consciousness away, plunging the blond into darkness that he knew no more.