When The Smoke Clears

Heart of Stone

"Oi, George, pass the butter, will ya?"

A blue eye swiveling in its socket.

"Wotcher, Harry."

"The ones who love us never really leave us," Sirius said, smiling, "You can always find them in here."

"Harry...Potter."

"HARRY!"

Harry Potter woke with a gasp, a sheen of sweat covering his face. "Not again..." He muttered to himself, burying his face in his hands. A soft, green glow emitted from between his fingers, and he looked up blearily. The dormitory's walls were made of dark, rough stone, its cracks pulsing with emerald light. The room's ambience was a stark difference to the Gryffindor tower, and it was something that Harry felt would take a long time to get used to.

Figuring that there was no use trying to get some peaceful sleep, Harry slipped out of bed, wincing at the chilly stone floor. He put on his glasses, and after a moment's hesitation, left his wand on the bedside table and walked out into the Slytherin common room.

Moonlight, filtered between seaweed and meters of water, still managed to light up the common room along with torches burning with green fire. Plush emerald rugs, stiff leather couches, and tapestries of Slytherin alumni gave the room a comfortable yet unfamiliar aura - it seemed dreadfully alien to Harry.

Large windows looked out onto the Black Lake, presenting a view of prickly underwater plants and sleepy grindylows. In front of one of the windows sat a young man with platinum-blond hair.

"I see you're having trouble sleeping as well, Potter," Malfoy said at the sound of Harry's barefoot footsteps.

"How could you tell it was me?"

"I can see your reflection in the window, you dolt," The Slytherin replied, meeting Harry's eyes in the glass.

As the Chosen One drew closer, he noticed how Draco's shoulders sagged with exhaustion, differing from his usual haughty posture. "Mind if I sit here?" Harry said.

Draco shrugged, tiredly and elegantly. "If you want."

Harry settled down on the stone floor, crossing his legs and leaning back on his arms. A moment later, Draco shifted to imitate his position, but whether it was deliberate or not, Harry couldn't tell.

A school of silvery fish flitted by the window, chased by a larger purple one. A grindylow twisted itself between a strand of seaweed, thoughtfully gnashing its teeth. In the distance, a mermaid crossed the scene, swimming from the surface down to the depths of the lake.

"I have something for you," Draco said suddenly. He rummaged around in his pajama pocket and produced a red velvet box the size of his palm. "Here."

Apprehensively, Harry took the box and opened it. Inside lay a smooth jet stone set in silver, hung on a delicate chain. A necklace. Harry hesitated to touch it, remembering that the last necklace he had known Malfoy to give had been cursed.

"It's not cursed, I promise," Draco said, sensing Harry's unease. "I'll show you what it does. Hand it over, Potter."

Harry did so, and Draco fastened it around his own neck, dropping the charm beneath his black silk pajama shirt. "Look," Draco unbuttoned his shirt partway, and the necklace had disappeared. "I had this made a couple of years ago. It turns invisible when worn and heats up when a person with ill intent against you is close. I told my mother how helped me out, and she suggested I give it to you. You're probably going to need it more than me."