When Darkness Threatens - Moment by Moment Book #5 (Harry Potter, Drarry)

More than Moral Support

Harry knew he was just standing in the classroom for moral support, but no-one had suggested he leave, and the mother hen in him was still keeping an eye on Draco, so he stayed silent and watched the potions' connoisseurs do their job. There were ingredients and their jars littering the room, and several cauldrons bubbling away under the careful eye of the trio of over-achievers. Harry had not managed to keep up with the detail of the convoluted discussions that had been going on since his three companions had started listing the many and varied potions that partially met the complicated requirements of the Azkaban transport potion, but he had managed to follow that they were trying various options for efficacy and combinatorial properties. He was rather proud of the fact he'd managed to decipher even those facts, given that he thought his friends had begun to yabber in code (his advanced potions were extremely rusty). However, it had been a good hour since anyone had even spoken to him, so he was beginning to feel isolated and like a spare snitch at a Quidditch match.

Draco was completely absorbed by what he was doing: Harry could see that, and his concern had begun to mute. Other thoughts that maybe he could be of more use to one of the other teams had come to mind, and had focused on the diversions side of things. He remembered Ron's comments about 'being dead' and he wasn't naive enough to think that either he or Draco would be allowed to form part of the elite group that Hermione had said would be going to Azkaban to carry out the rescue, but their high-profile status could be a bonus when considering diversionary tactics. He was mulling over the fledgling idea when his companion's surprised him.

Harry jumped and sunk back onto his perch on a desk when a nasty smell was placed right under his nose. Draco was holding out an egg-cup sized beaker of greenish brown liquid, which was foaming slightly; Hermione was stood immediately behind him, both looking expectant, and Severus was behind them, his arms folded and grinning with the same look he had used when tormenting his pupil.

"Try it," Draco urged excitedly, pushing the container closer to Harry's nose.

"Why me?" Harry defended his stomach.

"Because you are precious little use to us otherwise," Severus cut back, his grin widening.

Draco clearly didn't have a problem with the potential poisoning, and Severus looked decidedly gleeful, so Harry glanced at his oldest friend for backup. However, the academics seemed to be in agreement on their choice of guinea pig and left Harry wishing he'd decided to be helpful elsewhere a good deal sooner. Faced with three expectant experimenters, reluctantly, he took the beaker and eyed the potion carefully.

"What's it supposed to do?" he stalled.

"Move you," Hermione answered.

"Where to?" he prevaricated again.

"It's a low dose," Draco responded impatiently, showing no sympathy at all, "just sideways a little way."

That made Harry feel so much better.

Harry had run out of questions, so he went for the fastest solution, he knocked back the shot of potion. It hit the back of his throat and went down: he retched and coughed and spluttered at its foul taste, his eyes watering and his stomach lurching in objection, but, as far as he could tell, nothing happened. However, Harry heard general sounds of approval from the rest of the room, and, as he opened his eyes, he realised he was not in the same position in which he had started, he was in fact a couple of feet to his left and halfway off his seat. Draco did have the decency to reach out and grab an arm when Harry's balance centres rebelled at being slid around and he nearly toppled the rest of the way off the desk, but his main attention seemed to be on the success of the potion.

"Right, that's a start," Draco told his fellow brewers, letting go of Harry as soon as an equilibrium had been reached and turning back to the other cauldrons. "I suggest dematerialisation next."